Rescue (Emily and Mason) (3 page)

“She probably has another four to five days yet,” I tell
Gail, gently patting Daisy’s head as I speak. She quivers under my touch but
welcomes it with a few wet kisses and nose nudges to my palm.

“I agree. I’ll have to take her home with me tonight to make
sure. I’m sure Tina’s tired of staying all night with her. She needs a break.”
I want to offer to take the dog home with me, but I know that my father would
not appreciate it. So I keep my mouth shut and settle for the fact that Gail
will be taking her home, and she won’t be alone when her labor starts. Maybe my
father won’t be opposed to a puppy, or two.

We walk the dog back to the kennel, and I glance around for
Emily instinctually, it’s as if I’m honed in on her. When I finally catch sight
of her at the back of the kennel with an arm slung around Baby’s neck, my mouth
drops. The dog is happily panting beside her with her ears perked. It’s only
been twenty minutes!

I make my way to the cage and stand outside of it, the door
still open. Gail is busy settling Daisy back down for the day until she’s ready
to leave. Emily looks up from the hole she’s fiddling with in her jeans and
flattens her palms over it when she sees me. I see the thin line of blood
trickling down inside her jeans.

“She bit you,” I point out, crossing my arms over my chest.

“It was my fault. I flinched, and she took that as fear. So
she nicked me, it’s not a big deal.” I raise an eyebrow and look at the dog
she’s clinging to now.

“It should be reported,” I glance in the direction that Gail
went to make sure she’s not around. “But I can keep it quiet if you promise to
tell me if she does it again.” Emily narrows her eyes at me, much like the dog.
I have a feeling she’s trying to determine whether or not she can trust me.
Then she nods once as Gail comes up to my side and slides her leg down so that
the blood trail isn’t visible.

“You’ll have to teach me how to do that someday,” I tell her
before I walk off with Gail to finish up the day.

Emily

I’m not sure what he means by having to teach me how to do
that, to lie or to train a dog? I thought he was a vet technician; he should be
able to train dogs. I pull my arm away from Baby and look down at the bite on
my hand too. That’s what I was trying to hide in the first place. A dribble of
blood drops off my thumb, and I sigh as I wrap the wound in my t-shirt to
stifle the bleeding. Baby licks my cheek apologetically, and I let her.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, standing up slowly to give her time
to understand what I’m doing. She can sense my melancholy mood and shies away
from me before I leave. This incident hasn’t put us back any in training. I
made sure to assert myself after the bite, standing over her without looking at
her in a confident manner.

Dogs are tricky.
They need to learn to trust a person
and see that the person is actually trustworthy; it’s not at all about how you
speak to the dog but how you use body language. For Baby, she needs to realize
that I am in control of the situation and that I am a person that she can trust
during a situation she feels uncomfortable in. It’s going to take many more
weeks before I’m confident enough to say that she can go to a kid free home.

I close the door to her cage and turn around to find Jesse
standing in the doorway to the kennel room. She smiles at me knowingly and
looks down at my leg, her eyes narrowing. I come up with my best answer on the
fly.

“My leg snagged on a loose wire, cut myself,” I tell her
quickly, making my way to the sink. She leans her back against the counter and looks
down at my hand, biting her bottom lip.

“I suppose that was from when you tried to get your leg
loose from that pesky wire?” She asks in a chiding voice, looking at the cage
that I just came out of. “If she’s too dangerous to adopt out you’re wasting
your time, Emily.” I glare at her as I wash my hand, grabbing a bandage from
one of the cabinets and putting some antibiotic ointment on it before I slap it
on the bite wound on my hand.

“I’m not wasting my time; she’s a perfectly fine dog! She’s
just afraid; wouldn’t you be if you were a six year old German shepherd dropped
off by your owner who just couldn’t handle taking you for a walk every day? She
doesn’t understand, hell, I don’t understand how people can do this!” I’m about
to cry, so I turn away from Jesse to wipe the angry tears building up away, and
take in a steadying breath. She doesn’t touch me, for which I’m thankful.

“I know, I’m sorry. You’ll get her straightened out, and
some nice man will come in and adopt her, preferably a tall, dark and handsome
one with strikingly blue eyes.” She makes a purring noise, and it shoots out of
my mouth before I can even comprehend what I’m about to say.

“Green,” I correct her, thinking she’s talking about Mason.
There’s a dead silence behind me, and when I turn around, Jesse is beaming from
ear to ear. She tricked me!

“So you did notice the hunky vet tech walking around today.
I mean, who wouldn’t, he’s pretty edible.” I blink a few times, wondering if
she’s thinking about going after him herself. It’s not like I have a chance
with a guy like that. It’s not like I’ve ever thought about having a chance
with a guy since my mom passed, I’m damaged goods.

“Who, that guy who was in here with Gail?” I ask her
innocently, throwing away the bandage wrapper in a basin under the sink. Jesse slings
an arm around my shoulders as she walks me out of the kennel room, making me
stiffen. She doesn’t withdraw her arm, just keeps walking until we’re at the
front of the building.

“You know exactly who I’m talking about, Emily. Now go home
and take care of the other bite wound on your leg and don’t wear too much
perfume when you come in tomorrow.” I feel my cheeks flush, does she mean I’m
wearing too much now? Wait, I didn’t put any on.

“What? I’m not wearing any.” I tell her, and she just rolls
her eyes.

“For Mason, I meant. Don’t wear too much perfume for Mason.”
I slide out from under her arm and grab my bag by the door from the cubicle.
Before Jesse can make my cheeks flame any brighter, I wave to the receptionist
and slip out the door.

The first thing that catches my eye is Chevrolet Camaro
painted a nice red, but there’s a weird alien chick on the hood. It’s parked
right next to my red Dodge Neon with a few chips on the bumper. Whoever drives
that thing must have a weird personality, or they’re very humorous. I slide in
behind the wheel of the Neon and shove the key in place, starting it.

My drive back into town is pretty eventless. I pull up into
the driveway of my foster parent’s townhome and see that Jim is already home
from work. I glance at the clock on the dash. No wonder Jesse was kicking me
out. It’s six thirty in the evening, and I forgot to eat lunch this afternoon.

I’m covered in hair, and there’s blood still on my jeans, so
I head directly up the stairs when I come inside. Jim meets me at the top of
them and gives me a hesitant smile when he sees the blood. “Got bit again?” He
asks his tone light.

“Yeah, Baby’s not happy about her new home.” Jim nods in
understanding and follows me down the hall, heading into his own room.

He’s not much of a talker, which I like. It’s not that I
hate chatty people; I just like it when two people are comfortable enough to be
silent when they’re around each other. Sometimes words are just not necessary.
I grab a quick shower to wash out the bite on my leg and manage to get it
sufficiently bandaged. This time I won’t need stitches.

After I’ve dressed in my room, I make my way downstairs to
the kitchen and root through the refrigerator for something to make for dinner.
Laura will be home in about forty five minutes, and I don’t want her to have to
cook for all us after a long shift at the hospital. She’s an amazing woman with
a husband who gets so caught up in work he forgets that the two of them have to
eat.

I rummage around until I find a package of chicken in the
freezer and chop up some onions for the homemade barbecue sauce. I roast the
chicken in the oven for forty minutes with a hint of salt and pepper, and make
the sauce as I roast the chicken. There’re some frozen vegetable steamers in
the freezer that I pop into the microwave and get started.

By the time I’m plating, Laura comes through the door with
frazzled hair and her make up a little smeared. Jim meets her at the bottom of
the stairs, and when he pulls her into a hug I realize that her makeup is
smeared because she’s been crying. I want to go over and ask her what happened,
but I have a feeling right now she wants to speak her husband and not me.

Jim leads her up the stairs. I wrap both their dinners up on
the plates and shove them into the fridge. The last time Laura came home like
this they had lost a baby at the ER. I eat my steaming hot dinner quickly and
make my way upstairs after I clean up my dishes. I tiptoe past my foster parent’s
bedroom and slide into my own room.

There, my computer waits for me. I turn it on and lean back
in my chair as I prepare to start coding for one of the most complex websites
I’ve ever designed. It’ll take me probably a week or more to get this up and
running, but it’ll be worth it in the end. I don’t turn on my music tonight,
not wanting to upset Laura any further if she happens to hear it. I design in
the silence of my room, lost in my own world.

Mason

It’s nine thirty at night, and I can’t sleep. I roll over on
my mattress and listen to my brother still playing Assassin’s Creed. I bought
the brat headphones last Christmas. That was months ago. He has yet to use them
while he’s playing his video games. I think it’s a passive aggressive move. Ever
since he hit puberty, he’s become a nightmare.

With a growl,  I shove my pillow over my head and try to
block out the sounds of him killing the enemy. Just as I’m about to get up and
show him what it feels like to be beaten with a crowbar, I hear my Dad knock on
his door and tell him to turn it down. The noise quiets down after a momentary
verbal argument where my brother loses.

I’m finally able to get to sleep. The next thing I know the
alarm clock is blaring at me, and I have to whack it to turn it off. The sun’s
shining in through my window and I feel confused for a few seconds. Then I
remember the previous evening and roll my eyes as I roll off the mattress and
onto the floor. This morning it’s thirty one pushups instead of thirty. When
I’m finished, I shower and check my brother’s bedroom to make sure that he got
to school on time today.

I grab the coffee pot and mumble under my breath as I dump
out the grounds and make myself a cup of coffee. If my father could make
himself some, it would have been nice if he had left me a cup. I was never really
a morning person. The scent of the coffee grains has me smiling as I put enough
in for two cups. I’ll need that many to get myself moving.

The cellphone in my pocket buzzes and I pull it out of my
pocket. There’s one word on the screen from Gail, puppies. I sip on my coffee
as I text her back congrats and wait for a response. She texts me saying that
she will be in with them this afternoon to have them checked out, but it looks
like they’re all accounted for and healthy. I’m on my second cup of coffee by
the time eleven rolls around, having busied myself with making lunch.

After I’m finished eating like a pig, I clean up the kitchen
and get a load of laundry done. I’ll need to invest in some lint rollers if I’m
going to keep working at the animal shelter. My clothes from the previous day
are covered in hair.

As I’m getting into my car, I check my hair twice to make
sure that it’s presentable and try for a smile. Emily’s going to be there again
today, and for some reason my brain won’t let me forget that. My ride to work
is filled with thoughts of how I can engage her in talking again; maybe even
ask her out on a lunch date before work. Lunch dates are less intrusive than
dinner dates; at least, I’m hoping they are.

It’s not that I haven’t noticed all the other good looking
women who work at the shelter. There are quite a few of them, but Emily’s really
dominated my thoughts for the past eighteen hours. I meant what I said the day
before. She’s going to have to teach me how she can step into a cage with a
biting dog like that and have it calm and collected in under half an hour. Baby
isn’t ready for adoption, but if she keeps making progress like yesterday, I’m
pretty sure she’ll be ready sooner than everyone thinks.

I turn down Alien Ant Farm as I pull into the parking lot
and roll my windows back up. I park in the same spot and wonder which one of
the vehicles in this lot is Emily’s. If I keep thinking like this, I’m going to
start sounding like a stalker to my own ears.

The lot is quiet as I step out of my car into the dappled
shade of the trees. I like where this building is located, off a main road but
far enough back that the sound of traffic is severely limited. That’s why I can
hear the crunch of tires on the driveway leading up to the parking lot.
Curious, I glance to my right and notice a small, red car with a pretty rustic blonde
behind the wheel.

Recognizing Emily right away, I stop by the front door and
wait for her to get out of her car. She’s struggling with something in her
trunk when I begin to walk over to help her out. There’s a huge bag of organic
dog biscuits, probably weighing almost as much as her that she’s wrestling
with.

“Here, I’ll get that,” I wait for her to move aside before I
reach into her pristine trunk and drag out the bag. I hoist it over my shoulder
and hold it with one hand.

“Thanks,” she tells me quietly as she closes her trunk. I’m
wondering why someone as pretty as her is so shy, usually girls like her are
like that man
-
eating alien that I dated months ago. But Emily feels
different. She reminds me of some of the animals cowering in their cages at
this shelter.

“The perfume you’re wearing, it’s nice,” I tell her
nonchalantly as I open the door for her with my free hand. I see her face blush
crimson as she mutters another thanks, and then I hear the mumbled ‘Jesse was
right’ under her breath as she tries to walk ahead of me.

“Good morning, Mrs. Binkley.” We both say at the same time.
The gray haired receptionist looks up from her desk and smiles at both of us,
her kind eyes all knowing. I can’t help the grin on my face as I follow Emily
down the hall to the dog kennel.

“You can put that over there, I’ll put them into the jars
later.” I set the bag down by the cabinets and watch her say good morning to
Baby first before she turns around to find me still standing in the doorway of
the kennel room.

“You’re late,” I realize that sounds a little stalker like
and try for a sheepish smile. “Gail said you usually get here a little earlier
than when they allow volunteers in.” I try to push it off on Gail being
observant, but Emily seems to see right through that.

“I usually am, I had school.” Emily rubs one of her arms
absentmindedly, and I figure I’d better get to the clock-in area before I’m too
late. I check my cellphone and realize that I have one minute to get to the
little machine before I’m considered late.

“I’ll see you around,” I tell her before I leave. Her cheeks
are still rosy as I leave. I meant what I said about the perfume, and I know
she wasn’t wearing it yesterday. My chest tightens when I realize that maybe
she’s not wearing it because I’m around. Maybe she had a date with a boyfriend
tonight. I should ask Gail before I start pursuing Emily any further.

I might still pursue her even if she did have a boyfriend.

I meet up with Jesse at the time clock and punch in, using
the ancient machine. She gives me a breezy hello before she wanders off to take
care of a cat that came in last night with a broken leg. I notice that she has
bags under her eyes and wonder if she’s been here all night or if she just had
a late night for another reason last night.