Rebounding (9 page)

I look at my watch, knowing I’m already running late. If I told her that, she’d probably tell me just to go ahead without her. She seems like that kind of person. I should definitely tell her I’m running late.

“Yeah, I have some time.”

“I’ll be quick,” she promises.

“Make sure you brush your teeth,” I say, crinkling my nose. “And use plenty of mouthwash.”

She throws a pillow at me, but misses.

“I’ll wait downstairs,” I say, shaking my head at her failed attempt.

Just as I’m about to leave the room, something catches my attention.

I stop to turn around, pointing to the desk on the far side of the room. “What is that?”

She places both of her hands over her face. A muffled
nothing
comes out from beneath them.

I walk over to the desk, picking up the empty carton of ice cream. “
You ate my Häagen-Dazs?
”

THIRTEEN

Char

“So where are we going?” I ask Max as we get inside his pickup truck. Batman jumps inside first, taking his place in the middle seat. The old truck surprises me. It’s kept nice, but I assumed Max would own something a little more shiny and new. I like that he doesn’t care that much about material things, especially since I know he could afford a newer car if he wanted one.

“Hospital,” he grunts, shutting the door behind me. I can’t blame him. Today I’ve broken just about every one of his rules, even though I swore I’d replace the ice cream. I get the feeling he’s not happy about me breaking down the barrier he tried to put up between us.

Once he gets in on the driver’s side, I say, “I really don’t need to see a doctor. I’m fine.”

“We’re not going for you.” Max nods to Batman. “He has to work.”

I blink a few times. “Excuse me, did you say the
dog
has to work?”

“Yep.”

I strap myself into my seatbelt. Batman is panting happily and sitting calmly in his seat. All kinds of questions pop into my head about the
job
we’re on our way to, but I keep them to myself, deciding to find out firsthand.

Before Max starts the engine, he hands me a brown paper bag. “What’s this?” I ask, opening it. Inside there’s a toasted egg sandwich wrapped in a napkin, a banana, and a juice box.

“I made it while you were getting ready. You need to get something in your stomach.”

He’s right. As soon as he puts the car in drive I feel dizzy, but I keep my discomfort to myself. Tagging along probably wasn’t the greatest idea, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being left alone in that house for one more minute. I’m okay with feeling like crap if it means I can be near Max. It’s not just having someone to hang out with either. It’s him—Max. Just being near him calms me in a way I’m not sure I fully understand. Everything about his presence is reassuring. The way he looks at me, the way he speaks, the way he smells—God I love the way he smells. It reminds me of the beach combined with his body wash.

I eat the food he packed for me, stealing glances at him when he’s too focused on driving to notice.

Oh God, I’m latching onto him, aren’t I?

The thought scares me. Probably because it’s true. He’s the only guy around. Except Trevor, but he doesn’t count. It makes so much sense. It’s like some pathetic kind of Stockholm syndrome.

No, that can’t be true. I was attracted to him from the moment I saw him. There has to be a better reason why I feel this way.

Batman licks my cheek. I scratch him under his chin, silently thanking him for getting me out of my own head. After everything I’ve been through over the last few days, I need to get out of my head for a while.

“Hey, is that the place you bought the elixir?” Max asks me.

I look ahead, seeing the familiar strip mall. “Yep, why?”

He puts on his blinker, then quickly swings into the turning lane.

I grip my seatbelt, tightening my hands around the thick band of cloth. “What are you doing?”

“Just want a quick word with the owner.”

“Max, you don’t have to do this.”

He doesn’t say anything in response to that, just keeps driving until he finds a parking spot near the storefront. “Stay here,” he says, and I’m not sure if he’s talking to the dog or me. His face is unreadable; I can’t figure out what he’s thinking. I stay where I am either way, preferring to watch what happens from a distance.

He walks inside, and I see him approach the clerk through the store window. The two of them exchange words. He’s probably just letting them know they made a bad batch of the—

Nope, that’s not what’s going on.

Max grips the clerk’s collar. Then he points toward me, forcing the man to look my way. I sink back into my seat, wishing I could vanish into thin air. Batman is staring at the unfolding scene too, his ears on high alert. A low rumbling growl builds within the dog’s chest.

More yelling ensues, and Max drags the poor clerk out of eyesight, away from any witnesses, I can’t help but notice. The two of them disappear into the back of the store.

My heart races. Wouldn’t that mean—oh God! This can’t be happening. Maybe my serial killer theory was right after all. I figured it was a long shot, just another contrived drama created by my overactive imagination, but now this is happening.

Every second that passes is growing longer. I want to know what’s going on, but at the same time, I don’t. The anticipation is killing me.

Max suddenly reappears, the store clerk lagging behind him. I place my hand over my beating heart, letting out a winded breath. Thank God. No one’s dead.

When Max reenters the truck, he does a double take of my horrified expression. “You okay?”

“Tell me what happened in there, and I’ll let you know.”

“What do you
think
happened?”

“I don’t know,” I sputter out. “The two of you went into the back. I couldn’t see you. I thought maybe you tried to hurt him or something.”

Max laughs at that. “Believe me, I’d have liked giving the guy a decent beating, but we’re already late to Batman’s appointment. As enjoyable as it might’ve been, I don’t have time to go to jail today.”

“So what did you do?”

“I made him get rid of the rest of the elixir he sold you. We went into the back so I could make sure he threw out every last vial. I wasn’t taking any chances of him selling more to the next impressionable fool who walks inside his store.”

I chew on the inside of my cheek, trying to ignore the indirect insult. “That’s all you did?”

“Of course that’s all.”

With that said, he starts the truck back up. I look out the passenger window while I let out a long breath of relief. “I’m glad you got him to throw it all out,” I say, feeling much better about the situation.

“I wasn’t taking no for an answer.”

When we get to the hospital Batman seems to know exactly where we’re going. We enter the building through a secluded side entrance. Max tells me it’s to avoid all the people who approach him, wanting to pet Batman.

“What’s wrong with that?” I ask curiously.

“He’s like a celebrity here.” When I still don’t understand, he says, “It gets aggravating.”

“To you or him?”

“Both of us.” I can tell by the way he says it that he doesn’t expect me to believe him.

Once inside the hospital, we go through a narrow hallway, stopping at the first door on the right.

“First up, bath time,” Max says, holding the door open for us.

There’s an elderly man at the front desk wearing a nametag that reads
Gus
. When he sees Max and Batman come in, he greets them by name. “And who might this lovely young woman be?”

“This is Charlotte,” Max replies, busy filling out the sign-in sheet. He looks over his shoulder at me for a brief moment, winking. “She’s a friend.”

My belly does a little flip-flop.
Friend.
Hearing that word spoken out loud makes me feel warm and tingly all over. I don’t care if it makes me pathetic. It’s the best thing anyone’s said to me in a long time.

“How wonderful,” Gus replies, grinning. “You’ve never brought a friend before. I was beginning to think you didn’t have any.”

Max snorts, and I can’t help but smile. I like Gus already.

Once we’re signed in, he leads us into a room with an area set up for bathing dogs. Max removes the leash and collar, and Batman goes straight to the tub like he’s getting down to business. The dog knows exactly what’s going on. His demeanor is changing too; he’s calmer than usual. It’s kind of amazing.

“So what happens next?” I ask Max curiously.

“Therapy,” he replies without explanation.

“Batman needs therapy?” I ask, confused.

Max shakes his head, softly chuckling. “No. He
is
the therapist.” Before I can ask him to explain that, he speaks first. “How are you feeling?”

I take stock of myself. The nausea is gone. “Actually, I feel pretty good. Thanks for breakfast by the way.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And for bringing me along. I’m having fun.”

“But we just got here.”

“I know, but it’s going to be a good day.” Today has to be a good day. I’ve had too many bad ones lately. This one is going to be better. I can feel it.

“You seem very sure about that.”

“That’s because I am.”

After Gus finishes bathing Batman, he dries him off with a towel, and then performs a quick physical, checking out his ears, throat, and heartbeat. Then he puts his collar back on, followed by an ID vest that reads
Pet Pals
.

“Ready to go to work, old boy?” Max asks him.

I like how he doesn’t change his voice the way some dog owners do. When he speaks to his dog, it’s the same as how he would speak to me or anyone else.

Max attaches the leash, leading the way. After saying goodbye to Gus, I follow them back into the hospital corridor. I can’t help but find it ironic that I’m college educated and unemployed, and meanwhile, Max’s dog seems to have a better job than I do.

“So he’s really a therapist, huh?” I ask as we exit the elevator.

“Yep.”

We travel through a few more hallways, stopping at the Physical Therapy department. As soon as we go inside, a little girl squeals excitedly. She calls out Batman’s name, and he immediately goes to her, stepping up on her wheelchair to lick her face.

A middle-aged Hispanic woman greets Max in Spanish. To my surprise, he answers back, and the two of them have a conversation. His Spanish is natural and fluid. It makes me wonder how he got the last name Archer. Listening to him, you’d think Spanish was his native language.

At first I feel a little uncomfortable, but Max doesn’t forget about me. He leans back, lightly touching the back of my arm to draw me forward. “Gabriella, this is my friend Charlotte. I hope you don’t mind, but she wanted to join us today.”

“Not at all,” Gabriella replies with a smile. “Piper loves the company.”

“Piper is Gabriella’s daughter,” Max explains to me, gesturing toward the little girl in the wheelchair. “She has cerebral palsy, and because of that, it’s hard for her to foster mobility. Batman is here to help motivate her.”

I look over at the little girl, who looks about six or seven years old. Black ringlets surround her sweet cherub face, and she has the biggest doe eyes I’ve ever seen. It doesn’t seem like an easy thing for her to reach out to pet Batman. Every movement is strained.

“That dog has been a huge help,” Gabriella says. “Before he came along, she wouldn’t work with her therapists. I’d almost given up on the idea of rehabilitation.”

I don’t blame little Piper for wanting to give up. If I were her age, working out would be the last thing on my mind. I’m sure Batman makes it a lot more fun.

Feeling a burst of energy, I clap my hands together. “So what happens first?”

Gabriella chuckles. “They usually start off with fetching the ball.”

Max gives me a funny look. “You seem eager.”

I shrug. “I’m unemployed.”

“Well I hate to disappoint you, but Piper and Batman do most of the work. The rest of us just sit back and cheer them on.”

“She can play too,” Piper says, overhearing us.

Max kneels down next to her wheelchair. “You sure you wanna let her play, Pipes? She looks like a ball dropper.”

I huff out a breath, acting offended. “I’m
not
a ball dropper.”

“Didn’t say you were,” Max says, grinning. “Just that you look like one.”

It doesn’t help that when Piper throws the ball to me for the first time, it slips out of my hands. “That doesn’t count!”

Piper giggles. “It’s okay. Sometimes I drop it too.”

Her laughter is an adorable melodic sound. The four of us play fetch together while Gabriella leaves to catch up on a few errands. Piper starts off throwing the ball to Max, then to me, then to Batman, who brings it right back to Piper. Sometimes Batman will leave the ball on the ground in front of Piper’s wheelchair. At first I think it’s a mistake, but now I realize he’s doing it on purpose. He’s urging her to work a little harder, to push a little more. It amazes me that a dog can be so intuitive.

“Hey, Pipes. Let’s take Batman for a walk. What do you say?”

She looks hesitant at first, almost as if she’s scared. “I don’t know.”

Batman paces in front of her, wagging his tail. His ears perked up at the word
walk
, and now he’s brimming with excitement.

“You’ll be fine,” Max assures her. “Charlotte and I are both here to help you.”

She’s hesitant, but trusting of Max. “Okay.”

Max attaches a double leash to Batman’s collar. He hands one long rope to me. “Just in case he pulls or walks too fast. He never has before, but it’s a precaution.”