The Wrong Man (27 page)

“Liz honey….” My voice was kind, but this was one of those occasions where my very last nerve was close to shot. She was making this harder.

“Oh God, Bran!” She hiccupped and swiped at her cheeks before trying again. “I’ll call Jake again for you, and he left a couple of other emergency numbers for me when I watched M-Mack. Nate and De—”

“Yes. That’s good. Call whoever he said to. I have to go.”

“Bye, Bran. Bye, M-mm—” She broke off with a sob and covered her face with both hands.

I closed my eyes for a brief second before pulling into traffic. I kept my hand on Mack’s head, gently petting and speaking as calmly as possible. My voice faltered a couple times, but I managed not to break down entirely. When he perked his ears attentively, I almost lost it but held myself together. I calmly navigated the late afternoon midweek rush hour traffic to get to the vet’s office on Santa Monica Boulevard. Once I’d parked, I called to let them know I was there and needed assistance.

After that, everything was a blur. People asking questions, phones ringing, dogs barking. My heart beat too fast, my mouth felt like cotton, and I couldn’t get my hands to stop shaking. I was a fucking mess. The vet let me stay with Mack while he examined him and took vitals. He was a nice man. Tall, thin, white-haired, middle-aged. The name on his white coat said Dr. Mitchell. I sensed he knew Mack and wondered who the hell I was, but he didn’t press me for details. He spoke in a reassuring tone, giving his patient his full attention.

“Mr.….”

“Good. Brandon Good. Is he okay? Is it the diabetes or—”

“I’m going to run a panel of blood work, which will give us a better idea about Mack. You’ll probably be more comfortable in the waiting room. I promise you, he’s in safe hands.”

He spoke kindly, and though I wanted to insist on being with Mack every step of the way, I decided my high anxiety was palpable enough to be more upsetting than comforting to anyone. I could use the time to try to track down Jake again and maybe check in with Lizzy and Lorenzo. I nodded and bent to kiss Mack’s snout before heading toward the waiting room.

An impeccably dressed older woman with red hair and sad eyes was the only other person in the small area. I gave her an absent smile as I perched on the corner of a hard plastic chair and took in the framed diplomas on the plain white wall above my chair. She glanced briefly in my direction before turning to stare into space. She held a small pet carrier on her knee with infinite care. Her grief was tangible. I didn’t know what was wrong with the animal she guarded, but I couldn’t begin to take on her sorrow as well as my own. I swallowed hard and pushed open the glass door. I needed fresh air.

It was funny unraveling like this in public while no one was the wiser. I stared at the cars passing by on the busy street. Couldn’t they see me coming apart at the seams? It was a wonder I wasn’t on my knees. I paced the narrow sidewalk, knowing I couldn’t let my mind take over. Maybe I should listen to music in my car or—My phone rang, and I picked it up without looking at the caller ID. I was too grateful for the diversion to care.

“Hello.” The voice was a strong, masculine one, but it wasn’t the one I’d hoped to hear. “Is this Brandon?”

“Uh… yes. Who’s this?” I massaged my temple in an attempt to ward off the headache I could feel coming.

“This is Derek. A woman named Liz called to tell me Mack went to the vet. She said it was an emergency, and she was worried he wasn’t going to make it. I’m… I’m in LA on business, and I want to see him. I tried to call Jake, but he’s not picking up.”

Silence.

Answer, Brandon.
Talk to him.

“Hello? Are you there?” he asked.

“Yeah… sorry. Mack’s at the animal hospital on Santa Monica at San Vicente.”

“Thank you. I’ll be there shortly.”

I stared at my cell with growing panic. Now what? I had no idea what the fuck to do. Mack didn’t belong to Derek. He belonged to Jake. And me.

Except he didn’t. I had no claim to Mack. I was a glorified dog sitter. Another call jolted me from my reverie. It was Lizzy, informing me she’d called the numbers on Jake’s list and was everything okay?

“I… I don’t know. He’s getting tests done, but he’s alive. I… um… I’ll talk to you later, Liz.”

She was still talking when I absently disconnected the call. Something about… hmm. I didn’t know. I licked my lips and glanced inside. The woman with the pet carrier was standing now, holding a cat and sobbing while a young woman wearing dog bone and paw-dotted scrubs wrapped her arm around the grieving lady. I couldn’t hear any words, but I got the message loud and clear. The cat was dying or was about to be put down, and suddenly I couldn’t fucking breathe. I had to get out.

I
DIDN
’
T
get far. It was rush hour, and the traffic on Santa Monica Boulevard was insane. I got three blocks before pulling into a coffee shop parking lot with Lady Gaga blaring on my car stereo. It was obnoxious, but it served its purpose and kept my errant thoughts from bubbling to the surface. But I had to go back and deal. Deal with Derek and a sick Mack and hope to fuck Jake got one of the twenty messages left for him so I didn’t have to do anymore of this alone. I sucked at it. I was a basket case. I tried to think of something comforting. A song lyric or one of Luke’s poetry quotes. Nothing came to mind.

Figured.

I was back at the vet’s office a few minutes later. Thirty minutes or less had passed since Dr. Mitchell told me to take a seat in the waiting room. I gave myself a pep talk as I made my way to the receptionist’s desk. The woman behind the counter, Mandy her name tag said, was the same young woman who’d been comforting the cat lady a few minutes ago. She smiled as she brushed a strand of blond hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ears. The gesture combined with the dog-themed scrubs made her look a lot younger than she probably was.

“How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Mack. Um…. Mack Westley. He’s a Lab. I just brought him—”

Her face fell enough to make my already frazzled nerves buzz ominously. I leaned against the counter and swallowed hard, realizing a moment later the receptionist’s lips were moving. I couldn’t hear a thing. It was like I was underwater, struggling to swim to the surface.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you. Can you just tell the doctor I’m back? Please, Mandy.”

“Of course. Follow me.”

Mandy led me down a short hallway and stopped at a plain white door with a placard affixed to it, announcing this was the head honcho’s office. I heard barking in the distance intermixed with the sounds of any normal office area. The hum of a copier juxtaposed to the plaintive cry of a cat.

“The doctor stepped out for a moment. Mack is with his owner and his boyfriend.”

Her smile was oddly bright considering the circumstances. In fact, nothing seemed to make much sense. A very old dog was sick. How was this an occasion for mirth? And what did she mean by “boyfriend”? Was Jake here? I must have misunderstood. She was probably referring to me.
I
was his boyfriend. We hadn’t said that word aloud, but we both knew who we were.

You know the feeling when real life resembles a photo? The
mind’s eye captures a moment in time with enough detail to make you believe it lasted longer than it actually did. And like a snapshot, when the memory pops up every once in a while when least expected with such strength and clarity, it feels like you’re reliving it.

It had happened most memorably when I was eighteen. I’d been happily living with Luke and Mara. I had a handsome “secret” lover and an unrelenting sense of optimism. Things were finally going my way. I was sure of it. I’d been on my way to meet Jake in the library to “study.” We’d been talking about prom. We were going to do something crazy. Something the whole fucking school would talk about for years. They’d send over cameras from CNN, ESPN, and maybe even Entertainment Tonight (I’d been rooting for that one). We didn’t care who knew we were in love. Or gay. This was happening. We would make history.

I remembered walking down the hall, waving carelessly at someone calling my name in the crowded hallway when I spotted them. I’d stopped. Everything had stopped. My breath caught so wildly I had to place my hand on the wall to steady myself at the sight of Jake,
my
Jake, with his arms around Kara Warren. His mouth had moved over hers as she swayed into his bigger body, like a willow branch wrapping itself around the much larger, sturdier tree trunk. He’d held her with purpose. And there had been no doubt I was meant to see this.

I’d been set up. Betrayed. There was no mistaking the intent or the message. The big, bold, gay move we’d orchestrated had been sacrificed for the ordinary, the expected. For fear.

Fast forward twelve plus years. Two men stood at the far end of the room entangled in an intimate embrace. The taller of the two looked to be soothing the other. His hands gently caressed the other man’s back. He whispered something into his ear and kissed his temple and cheek. His hands brushed through his hair. No one else was invited to witness this moment. It was private.

But once again, that was
my
Jake. Mine.

The buzzing in my ears sounded like a swarm of bees surrounding my head. It grew increasingly louder, making it impossible to think or see straight. It had to be my imagination. This couldn’t be real. I blinked in an effort to clear my vision. But nothing changed. Jake was still in Derek’s arms.

Mandy was talking again. I barely made out the words, but I heard her this time.

“Let’s give them a minute,” she said softly.

I tried to swallow, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. My mouth was too dry. My hands shook. I nodded at Mandy and turned away. Out the door, out of the office, out to my car, and who the fuck knew where I’d go or what I’d do after that. I tried to ignore my trembling limbs as I sucked in a deep breath and started my car. Everything in LA was too far. Luke, Mara, even my store seemed miles away. I had to get home.

I stayed the course on Santa Monica Boulevard, knowing it was important to keep my hands steady. My mind, however, I couldn’t control. I’d had some pretty shitty things happen to me in my thirty years on the planet. Many of them were directly related to things I couldn’t change if I tried. The color of my skin, my voice, my parentage, being gay. I’d learned how to be strong in unconventional ways and had become more resilient than most. But I didn’t know how to do this. Mack was gone, and that alone was like a knife to the heart. Jake was another matter.

I’d managed to steer clear of heartache for twelve fucking years. I’d been crushed and felt a debilitating sense of loss and pain I never wanted to experience again the first time we’d meant something to each other. But it was nothing compared to now. How perfectly fitting it should find me all these years later with the same man. I’d been an idiot for not following my own rules. The past was the past for a reason. You fuck with it, and you get fucked.
Remain in the present. Be present. Only now matters.

M
Y
HOUSE
was dark when I pushed the door open. There was a huge bouquet of red roses on the porch, but I barely spared them a glance. I braced myself for the lack of sound. No barking, no jingle from the tags on a collar, and no one softly speaking in the next room. I’d always considered my home a haven but at that moment, it just felt empty.

I flopped wearily on the sofa and closed my eyes. I didn’t bother with music or television. An acute sense of sadness settled over me, but I didn’t fight it. Not this time. I let my tears fall freely as I wrapped my arms around myself defensively.

The sound of my front door opening a while later startled me. My traitorous heart was immediately comforted by his presence. I had no idea what time it was, but it was dark in the living room. I leaned over to turn on the lamp on the end table next to me before finally glancing up at Jake. He’d brought the flowers from the porch inside and set them on the coffee table before sitting next to me. I closed my eyes when he ran his hand over my head, reveling in the sweetness of the gesture.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

He gently guided my chin so I’d look at him. “Mack’s going to be fine, baby. He—”

My breath hitched. I covered my face with my hands in an effort to pull my emotions together. I felt Jake’s arm over my shoulder and instinctively leaned into his side before turning into his embrace. We held each other for a long minute. I pulled away when a recent painful memory of Jake being held and comforted by his gorgeous ex inserted itself.

“What happened to him? How did he get sick so fast? I swear nothing was different this morning and then…. Fuck, it was scary.”

“I know. I’m sorry you had to deal with it on your own. I really am. Basically he had the dog version of a hypoglycemic episode. He’ll be okay, but they want to keep him for another day or so for observation.” He sighed heavily and bit his bottom lip.

I nodded. “I kind of panicked and—”

“No, you didn’t. You were incredible. I heard all about you from Lizzy and the doctor. Derek said he tal—”

“Whatever. I made a couple phone calls. Anyone can do that. I’m so relieved he’s still….” I choked on the words and a tear escaped, running unchecked down my cheek.

Jake leaned forward and captured it with his thumb. “I don’t think he’d go anywhere without saying good-bye to you.”

My shoulders shook as a sob wracked me. Jake reached for me again, but I pulled away and jumped to my feet. I folded my arms around myself, feeling horribly chilled as I stared unseeing out my front window.

Jake followed and set a comforting hand on my shoulder. I took a deep breath before turning to face him.

“Thanks for coming to tell me. I appreciate it.” My tone was cool. Distant.

Jake caught on quickly. His eyes narrowed as he tilted his head to the side. “Hey. What is it?”

“I—Jake… this isn’t working for me. I love Mack, but I obviously suck at dog sitting and everything else”—I waved my hand between the two of us—“is too complicated. I can’t do this anymore.”