Page 31 of Falling for my First Crush

JOE

Iclip the leash on Tibby, and we head out the front door. Despite the fact that she has a great yard to run around in, I like to take her for walks. It’s a good time for the two of us to be out. I get exercise, as does Tibby, and she also gets a variety of new things to sniff.

Being on leave from work, I notice that I’m having trouble filling all of my free time. It isn’t like my days off, when I have plenty of time to do all the things that I don’t get to do when I’m working. Now, every day is wide open, and I have nothing to fill the time. Except walking Tibby. Turns out that my minor burn was not the only injury I sustained during the wild fire. I also fractured my wrist. Thankfully it’s my left wrist, so not my dominant hand, but I can’t go to work as a firefighter with a broken wrist. Sucks, but what can I do?

The Fallen Soldier Benefit is in a few days, and I’m grateful to have it to focus on. I suppose I should call Jackie today to talk over any last minute stuff that we need to do. I’m still thinking about the benefit when I get to the dog park. We haven’t been here before. I haven’t needed that at this point, with my backyard and all. But since we’re here, and since I have plenty of time to kill, I might as well let her run around.

There aren’t any other dogs here, so I don’t feel any apprehension about letting Tibby run around off her leash. I haven’t had her interact with other dogs yet, and although I’m sure that she’ll be great with them- she’s a very loving dog– I don’t want to take any chances. I’m getting quite attached to Tibby, and I’ve been thinking about making it a permanent situation.

I lean back against the fence and cross my arms over my chest. The cast on my wrist serves as a painful reminder of what happened out there in the woods. I haven’t told anyone the whole story, because it’s pretty embarrassing. Thinking about that day also brings to mind Jackie’s reaction when I got to the hospital. I wasn’t expecting to see her there, but I was thrilled to have her taking care of me. A friendly face is always such a welcome balm when things are going badly.

What I really hadn’t been expecting were the tears that fell when she saw me. Her freak-out made me freak out internally. But that wasn’t the thing that really stuck in my mind. It was the way our eyes met and the electricity that surged through me, when I reached out to wipe away her tears. It was way more intimate than it should have been, but I found that I wasn’t upset by that at all. I actually found myself hoping for more of it.

Tibby runs up to me and drops a stick at my feet. I think that she wants to play fetch. We’ve never done this before. I pick up the stick, and throw it as far as I can. Tibby looks at me for a second, then swivels to where I threw the stick, and back at me before she takes off after it. I’m amazed that I didn’t know that she could do this. It makes me wonder what other things I haven’t been paying attention to.

“Joe!”

I hear my name, and turn toward the fence on the opposite side of the dog park. Jackie is waving to me, and I feel myself lighten up. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s like my whole body relaxes.

I know that Jackie is good for me. I just wish I could figure out why she always seems to be mad at me. Maybe she isn’t mad. Maybe there’s something else going on, and I just don’t know. She certainly hasn’t filled me in on what it might be. Then again… maybe I should just ask her.

As soon as the thought occurs to me, I wonder why I’m such a doofus. Not everything in the world is about me. Crap. This is such a basic fact of life that I’ve known for years. Sometimes we all get blinded to ourselves. Have I been reading her emotions wrong this whole time?

With this new insight, I approach Jackie at the fence. She smiles at me. “Is that your new dog?” she asks.

“Tibby, yep,” I say. As if hearing her name from across the dog park, Tibby comes charging over to us. She has the stick in her mouth again.

“Wow, aren’t you a pretty girl,” Jackie coos, standing on her tiptoes to lean over the fence to pet Tibby. My dog, for her part, jumps up on the fence and sucks up all the love that Jackie is offering.

“She clearly says thank you,” I say.

Jackie laughs, and I am reminded of how much I like her laugh. “She’s great,” she says. “So she came from the shelter fire, huh?”

“She did,” I say. I’ve mentioned Tibby before, but I can’t remember how much we’ve discussed her, since I was under the impression that Jackie was mad at me. I still can’t believe how much time I’ve wasted getting into my own head.

“Well, she’s a great dog,” Jackie says. “I think you should keep her.”

“I…I was actually thinking about that,” I admit. I pause. “I’m not sure I love the name Tibby, though.”

“Is that the name she came with?” Jackie asks.

I nod. “That’s the name that the shelter gave her.”

“Hmmm,” Jackie says. She ponders this for a moment. Then she says, “What about Gidget?”

“Gidget?” I repeat.

“Well, yeah,” Jackie says. “There was this book in the fifties called Gidget. This guy, Frederick Kohner, wrote it about his daughter. Girl plus midget equals Gidget. And look at her. She’s the perfect dog for that.”

I look at my dog. She’s a medium-sized hound, but her legs are definitely shorter than a normal hound. Her goofy expression makes me chuckle. And in that moment, I know that she is indeed a Gidget.

“Ya know, Jackie… I think you’re right. I’m going to use that name, and I’m going to keep her,” I say. “I’m actually really happy to have her.”

“Well, good,” she says, smiling. “How’s the wrist?”

“I’m managing. Even if I am getting a little stir crazy. I guess Gidget is a really good distraction, if I have to be an invalid for awhile.”

Jackie laughs. That light, carefree laugh so unique to Jackie.

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