“Right? And he’s retired and home all day, so he’s a perfect puppy owner.”
“Was the shelter depressing, though? All those dogs who need homes?”
“A little, I can’t lie.”
“I always feel so bad for the older dogs that nobody wants. Everyone wants a puppy or at least a young dog, but the older ones can stay in shelters for years. The dog versions of me,” I say with a small laugh.
Esben grazes his fingers across my bare shoulder. “People don’t know what they’re missing.”
“One day, I’m going to adopt a really ugly older dog. Like, so ugly that only I will think he’s cute. The most seemingly unadoptable dog possible.”
“I like that idea. A lot.”
Esben must be rubbing off on me, because my wheels start turning. I Google ugly dogs and older dogs and unwanted dogs. Esben is quiet while I scour the Internet. Then I look down at the phoenix bracelet that cuffs my wrist. “I . . . I have an idea,” I tell him.
His grin is infectious when he exuberantly pulls me on top of him and tickles my waist. “I was waiting for this. I’m all in.”
I laugh. “You don’t even know what my idea is!”
“Yes, I do!”
I roll my eyes. “Of course you do. You practically invented all this stuff. So, you’ll help me?”
“Absolutely. Let’s go.”
“Now?”
“Now.”
He grabs a handful of our clothes, and I giggle when he covers us in a mess of the jeans and shirts that we’d ripped off.
My spirits are already lifted in a way they haven’t been since before the phone call, and I’m almost self-conscious over how I cannot stop smiling. “I’m excited.”
“There’s my girl.” Esben sits and tangles his hands in my hair. “I’m proud of you.”
“You think we can do this? They won’t mind?”
“They’ll be ecstatic.”
My phone rings, and I jump. There’s always the hope that Steffi might call.
“Hey, Simon.” I make bug eyes at Esben and try to cover myself with the shirt that he’s tossed on the bed. I can’t talk to Simon while I’m naked and straddling my boyfriend!
“Okay, don’t get mad,” he starts. “But I’ve been worried about you. Really worried. So, I’m driving up to see you.”
“I’m not mad at all, but you didn’t have to do that.” I slip off the bed and scrunch in funny positions as I try to get dressed with one hand. Esben starts to laugh, and I glare at him to be quiet. “When will you be here?”
He clears his throat. “In about six minutes.”
“Six minutes!”
Esben leaps out of bed and yanks on his underwear and jeans.
“Wow. Okay.” My hair probably looks like sex hair, and I start pulling a brush through it while Esben hooks my bra for me. “Do you mind coming out with Esben and me? We’ve got a little something planned.”
“Anything. I just want to see you. I’ll pull up where I parked when I took you to school this fall.”
God, that seems like ages ago. “Okay, see you in a minute.”
We scramble to pull ourselves together, then rush outside. I scan the street for Simon’s car, but he doesn’t seem to be here yet. We stand on the steps, getting colder by the second, and Esben sneaks a steamy kiss while we wait. Just as his tongue is really starting to heat me up, a fierce horn blow makes me jump. I look to the street again, but Simon still isn’t here. I’m about to go back in for another kiss when the horn blows more violently. I pull back and look again.
“Wait a second. Is that Simon?” I go down a few steps and peer at the sleek silver car. “Oh my God, it is.” I rush to the passenger window to find a smiling Simon waving at me.
He rolls down the window. “Hello, kids!”
“Slick ride!” Esben exclaims.
“When the hell did you buy a Porsche?” I demand. “This is insane!”
“That other car had almost two hundred thousand miles on it,” he says with a shrug. “I figured, why not? Get in. You must be freezing. Want to drive?”
“No way.” I shake my head. “I’d be too scared I’d wreck it.”
Simon sticks out his tongue. “Esben? You up for it?”
“Seriously? Totally! Are you sure?”
In answer, Simon gets out and heads for the passenger seat.
“Woo-hoo!” Esben bounds to take the wheel.
Before Simon gets in, he gives me a huge hug, and I feel my chest well with emotion.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” I manage. “Thank you.”
“I will always be here. You’re going to get through this. You are.”
Twenty minutes later, we’re at the dog shelter and walking down a long hall lined with metal cages full of dogs. We’ve let Simon in on our plan, and now he’s even happier that he came up. The barking sounds jubilant to my ears, and I can hardly hear Faith, the woman who stops periodically to tell us about some of the dogs. She’s the one who helped Esben earlier today with the puppy, and she was immediately receptive to my idea. We’re going to take pictures of the dogs and post them with information about how special each one is, in hopes of encouraging adoption. My goal is to get people to think outside the box and look past what may not initially be the cutest pet possibility. While Faith is gushing over how fabulous Esben is, I give him a wink and move down the hall to look in the pens.
I stop in front of a giant dog with shaggy gray fur. His legs are too long, his coat is a weird color, and his snout is awfully long and out of proportion to his face. This is not an attractive dog, and I love him immediately. The beast sits in the corner of his pen, and behind wisps of fur, I see dark, sad eyes. I see dejection. When I bend down and call for him, he doesn’t even come over to me. Worse, he looks away. I read the printout that hangs from the fencing.
“Esben.” I stand and call more loudly over the barking. “This one. Let’s start with this guy.”
He nods, and Faith comes over with a leash. “You guys can take them outside if you like. Better lighting probably. So, this is Bruce Wayne,” she says with a wistful look. “We give the dogs fun names in hopes of attracting adopters. It sounds silly, but it helps. He’s very shy. Been with us for two years and, before that, at another shelter for four. He’s nine now, and . . .” Faith stops for a second. “No one has ever asked to take him out. It breaks my heart. I love this guy, and I’d take him if I could, but I already have five dogs at home. He needs a break.”
“Can I take him out?” I ask.
“Sure. He’s very nervous, so give him a few minutes, but he’s really gentle.”
I look at Simon for encouragement, and he nods. “You know how to do this. I know you do.”
He’s right. I understand this dog too much. It’s almost heartbreakingly pathetic how much.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Esben raise his phone to capture whatever will happen.
The door to Bruce’s area swings open, and I lower my body slowly and then inch in, keeping close to the entrance. “Hey, Bruce,” I say softly. “Hi, buddy.” He doesn’t respond, so I sit down and lean against the concrete wall. “That’s okay. I’ll just wait for you.”