DALE
I came home from work exhausted, the moving company I worked at too busy for the few people they had, and the first thing I saw was Delaney’s puppy in Jacky’s roses, digging hole after hole with not a care in the world.
Looking around, I saw that my whole yard looked as if someone had tried to find a treasure. I considered taking a shower first—I was sticky, sweaty, and felt disgusting—but feared if I let the pup roam free any longer, the garden would be unsalvageable. I grabbed the puppy and picked her up, instantly feeling a tongue on my face. Damn, she was adorable, yet I kept stoking my anger because I couldn’t allow Delaney’s dog to just make a mess of my yard.
I didn’t knock, knowing she hadn’t started locking her door, and stood in her living room, not caring that I dragged dirt—dirt her dog had created in my garden in the first place—into her pristine space.
“Where the hell are you, and why the fuck is your dog digging in my garden?”
Lacrosse struggled in my grip, although I’d been mindful to not squeeze her too tightly. Feeling her little heart beating like crazy under my fingertips, I put her down, listening to the silence of the house.
“Clare?” My tone was less angry now as worry crept in. I had no idea what it was about her that had me coming back again and again, or why she let me in the first place, but when I was with her, my mind cleared for a few precious hours.
Lacrosse raced out of the room as I called for Clare again, finally deciding to climb the stairs after the pup. Clearly, she knew where she was going.
Damn, how many times had I told Clare she shouldn’t leave her door unlocked? What if someone came in? What if something happened to her?
My heart thundered in my chest, my hand reaching for my phone, ready to call an ambulance.
There was a door open at the end of the hall, Lacrosse whimpering inside the room. My hand shook as I pushed the door, opening it farther. I had no idea what I expected, but a relieved breath left my lips when I didn’t immediately see blood.
I did, however, see Clare sitting on the floor and leaning against the bed, looking out the window.
“Clare?”
“Just get out, Dale,” she replied, her voice weak.
“Get out? If you’d lock your door the way I’d told you a million times, I wouldn’t have been able to stand here to begin with. Your fucking dog dug up my garden and I brought her back. Can you keep her in check?” There was no heat behind the words, no matter how much I wanted there to be.
“I’m sorry,” she stated. That was all. No discussion, no yelling, no nothing.
“Clare, what’s going on?” I took another step toward her, forcing myself to keep my eyes on her and not look around the room.
“Nothing. Just leave. I’ll take care of your garden tomorrow.”
She didn’t turn, didn’t reach for Lacrosse whimpering at her feet. I glanced around, seeing an open bathroom door with a light on, making me think she’d made her way out when she’d heard me calling. There was a towel on the floor, almost like she’d tried to clean something.
Walking around the bed, I crouched next to her. She trembled, her lips white, her face pale, sweat beading up on her forehead.
She looked like shit, and I recognized the signs.
She’d been throwing up. Sally looked like that when she did.
“Why can’t you just do what people tell you for once?” she groaned.
I stood, deciding to not comment. I didn’t think about the fact that I wanted to take care of her, either. I shoved it into the darkest corner of my mind because, hell, I had no time to analyze all those stupid feelings.
Instead, I walked into the bathroom and finished wiping the floor clean, then gathered all the towels and brought them downstairs where I found the washing machine, putting a load in. I then ventured into the kitchen and searched her cupboards until I found a glass and some saltine crackers.
I didn’t find any ginger ale in her fridge, so water would have to do.
As I made my way back up the stairs, I heard her soft sobs even before I entered the bedroom. She’d probably thought I left. I walked in and slid down next to her, making sure she felt my shoulder brush up against hers.
“Here. Take the crackers and the water,” I ordered softly. She looked up, her tear-stained face still beautiful.
“I can’t, Dale. Not today. Just leave me alone, okay? I cannot handle you today.”
When I failed to move, she sighed, grabbing the crackers and water. I waited until she ate three crackers and drank at least half the glass, then I put them on the floor on my other side.
“There’s a stomach bug going around. Half Sally’s class was gone last week because of it. Luckily, she’s as healthy as a horse,” I said.
She gave me a soft smile. “I heard about that. I’ve felt off for a few days, but thought I’d missed it. Seems I didn’t.” Her head lifted and she stared up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly.
I knew that gesture, too. She was trying not to cry.
“Are you in pain?”
Sometimes, Sally could barely walk and screamed her heart out when she had stomach troubles, so I wouldn’t be surprised if Clare felt the same.
“I’m okay now,” she whispered. I could tell she was lying.
Getting to my feet, I swept her up into my arms, almost grinning at her surprised shriek and the way Lacrosse suddenly growled at me. It was adorable, the little furball trying to protect Clare.
I placed her on the bed, covering her with the blanket. “Try for sleep, okay? Warmth and rest will help.” I watched her for a moment, her green eyes filled with confusion and doubt as they seemed to study me.
“What the hell is wrong with you, Dale? Did they secretly exchange you for a nicer version?”
Her dig didn’t anger me like it usually would have. I sighed. “You’re miserable and alone, Clare. Yes, I’m an asshole, but I’m not heartless.”
She cuddled under the blankets and muttered something that sounded pretty close to “could’ve fooled me”, but I didn’t comment on it.
She closed her eyes, licking her dry lips. I watched her a moment longer before Lacrosse tried to jump up onto the bed, struggling until I helped her. She sat down in front of Clare’s face and stared at me, as if telling me to get the fuck out, so I did.
Downstairs, I swept up the mess I’d made when I first walked in, then went home, my mind preoccupied.
When I walked into my house, Sally ran up like a whirlwind, barreling into me. I picked her up to kiss her and she wrinkled her nose.
“You stink, Daddy,” she announced, struggling to get back down. My daughter vanished up the stairs as Mom walked in and leaned against the doorframe, her eyes watchful and knowing.
“What?” I asked, passing by to kick off my boots and peel off the dirty lumberjack shirt I wore over my t-shirt.
“Where were you? Aren’t you kind of late?” The way her eyes sparkled, she knew exactly where I’d been.
I rolled my eyes. “That annoying puppy from next door dug through our whole garden. Jacky’s roses are a mess.” I knew I should check on them to see if they needed immediate attention, but frankly, I couldn’t find it in myself to go out again. “I took the bratty beast back to its owner and gave her a piece of my mind. If she cannot keep that pup in check, I’ll make sure it no longer lives next door.”
At her outraged gasp, I realized what she probably thought I meant and I lifted my hands. “Mom, I’d just make sure she returns it to the shelter she got it from. Jesus, I wouldn’t kill a puppy. What kind of monster do you think I am?”
She shook her head as I shed my t-shirt, realizing my daughter was right. I smelled horrible.
“I wasn’t sure. It must’ve been a long talk because I could swear your truck has been in the drive for almost an hour.”
I knew she was fishing for information, but I wasn’t ready to give her more.
“I’m gonna go shower. Did you start dinner?”
Every time my mom visited, I didn’t know how I usually managed my daughter and work because she did dinner, cleaned, and made sure we always had fresh clothes.
“Almost done. If you want, we can eat after your shower.”
Hell yes, I want. I sometimes forgot to eat during work, so I was famished.
Making my way upstairs, I listened to Sally talk with her dolls through the open door of her room, then I vanished into the bathroom, not looking into the mirror. I didn’t know what I’d see looking back at me.