Page 22 of All Your Firsts Without Me

I’m not going anywhere. I’ll always be here waiting for you. No hurry. No rush. Just breathe.

Promise me, April. Promise me you will remember to breathe.

Love forever and a day,

David

I’m crying. Always crying. But I take a breath, then another, and another.

He’s right. I have to go on.

My eyes eventually find the television as my cup runs dry. Maybe I’ll have just one more and then try to get some sleep.

As I’m settling down with my second cup, the news comes on. I watch, thinking about life outside these walls. It’s going on, not missing a beat. It’s not fair. The world should have stopped when he did. I’m about to shut it off when a segment comes on and there in the lap of a woman is a little brown and white dog. He’s shaking. Scared.

I frown as I turn the volume up. The news anchor smiles, leaning over to pet him but he shies away.

The camera zooms in on his collar. A little silver butterfly dangles under his chin. I tip my head. No, it’s not a boy, it’s a girl. Her name is engraved on the shiny piece of metal. Lucky.

“A state trooper found Lucky on the side of Highway 10. He thought she was dead.” The lady scratches Lucky’s ear. “She’s quite the fighter. She’s been with us a year now, but we haven’t given up hope on finding her a forever home. She’s missing a leg but that doesn’t slow her down.” The lady lifts the little dog and sure enough she’s missing a back leg.

I swallow hard. My eyes going back to her little butterfly collar.

When the segment ends and a commercial comes on, I shut the television off. As I get ready for bed, the little dog stays on my mind. She looked so scared. Someone left her for dead and now she’s trapped in a kennel at the humane society. With no leg. And a butterfly collar.

My eyes drop closed as I curl up under my yellow starburst quilt. Maybe this is a sign. I fall fast asleep… without a sleeping pill.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Westin

I’m trying not to get discouraged. Giles stopped by the other day and told me she wasn’t doing well. I know it’s only been a month. I guess I just wish I could help her. But I promised David that I would wait six months and then her and I would meet at the White Glass. That was the deal. If she even shows. That sounds so far away, yet too soon.

Truth is, I miss David myself. I miss our long talks each week. He had become like a father to me, and his absence makes me long for a connection. So here I am. Taking matters into my own hands. That, and I just couldn’t resist her cute little face.

“I’m sorry but I think Lucky has been spoken for,” the lady at the Humane Society tells me.

“Oh. That’s great,” I say, trying to hide my disappointment.

She leans across the counter, whispering, “I’m not certain though. The young woman seems hesitant. She’s been in Lucky’s kennel with her for a couple of hours.” She sticks her pen behind her ear. “Why don’t we go make sure she’s going to adopt her before you leave?”

“Yeah, that would be great. Thank you.”

She waves for me to follow her. Barking echoes against the cement walls as she walks me past several kennels. I stop to look at each dog as I wait for her to speak with the woman who is with Lucky now.

“Excuse me, dear, I have a young man interested in Lucky. Have you made up your mind? I hate to send him on his way if you’ve decided against taking her home with you.”

I take the last few steps to Lucky’s kennel and there on the floor is my muse and the pup I had my heart set on. It takes me a minute to realize she’s here. Right in front of me. Lucky is in her lap, staring up at her with sad puppy dog eyes, begging April to take her home.

“April?” I ask, still not trusting my own eyes.

“Oh, you two know each other. I’ll let you sort it out then. I’ll be up front if you need me. Take as long as you like. Lucky doesn’t get many visitors. I’m sure she will love all of the attention.”

She walks away, my gaze following her. When my eyes slide back to April, she is staring at me, her brows pulled together, her head tipped slightly to one side.

“You don’t remember me, do you?” I chuckle lightly.

“No, I’m sorry.” She runs her hand over Lucky, dropping her shoulders.

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