Page 16 of Taming Bull

“It’s important, Mon. We’re talking life or death serious, here.”

“Gotcha.”

Her casual tone said she didn’t fully grasp the severity, but I plowed ahead anyway. “It’s this restaurant I frequent, and they have the most delicious sausage, egg, and cheese bagel—crispy on the outside and chewy inside, with the perfect combo of greasy cheese and seasoned sausage to make my broken heart feel better. But. They. Stopped. Serving. It. I desperately need this sandwich so I can eat my feelings. If I don’t get it, I’ll have to do something crazy, like deal with Bull’s rejection like some grown ass adult, and I’m not ready for that kind of responsibility in my life. Not at all. I passed my tests and now I’m getting a real apprenticeship which will lead to a serious job. I have maxed out my threshold for adulting.”

“All adulted out, huh?” she asked.

“Exactly. I need that chewy, greasy, delicious distraction to keep me young and depression free.”

“I see.”

Was that laughter in her voice? “No, I don’t think you do. I think you’re mocking my pain.” An unexpected tear leaked from my eye and rolled down my cheek. I swiped it away and scoffed at the moisture on my fingertips. Okay, Iwaspossibly overreacting. Crying over a breakfast sandwich felt like taking things too far. Especially when I didn’t want that bagel nearly as much as I wanted Bull. Knowing why he kept rejecting me only made me want him more.

Amber had broken his heart.

Her suicide had crushed him so completely, he hadn’t even slept with any of the club girls. Lacy said he’d taken her up to his room once. They started making out, but when she went for his zipper, he shut down and asked her to leave. Drunk as all get out, he’d still been faithful to his dead girlfriend. Now, I couldn’t stop imagining Bull, all alone and lonely in his room, waiting for me to come and rescue him from the ghost of relationships past. It was tragically endearing the way he clung to his ex, but that bullshit needed to stop. He needed me, and no thickness of icy walls or bone chilling cold shoulders was going to stop me from saving him from himself.

“If you swing by the store and pick up bagels and sausage on your way home, I’ll make you one of those breakfast sandwiches,” Monica offered.

“What about eggs and cheese?” My question came out like a pout, but I didn’t care.

“We have those.”

I considered throwing a toddler-sized fit and telling her it wouldn’t be the same, but Monica didn’t deserve my tantrum. And I really did want a bagel. “Okay,” I replied. “Thank you.”

“I gotchu, boo,” she replied before hanging up.

Feeling marginally better, I hurried to the closest grocery store and picked up the necessary ingredients, adding ice cream and a bottle of wine to my basket just in case the breakfast sandwiches didn’t do the trick. While leaving the store, I almost tripped over a leash that connected a brown-haired little boy to a mid-sized dog.

“Oh! Are you okay?” A woman asked, hustling to my side.

“Yeah.” Righting myself, I adjusted my bag of groceries. Nothing had fallen, and I’d somehow managed to avoid faceplanting on the sidewalk. Good thing, because with the way this day was going, I’d probably just curl up in a ball and die right there. “I’m good.”

“Johnny, I told you to be careful. You can’t let BB stray like that. If you can’t hold him, I’ll have to take his leash.”

Johnny had to be about six or seven. His big, round eyes were red like he’d been crying, and if my grandma had seen how far his lower lip was sticking out, she’d tell him to pop it back into place before a bird came along and shit on it. Gross, I know, but the woman who’d raised me had given up the pretense of being a lady long before I arrived on the scene. Scowling at the woman I assumed was his mom, Johnny tugged on the dog’s leash and pulled BB closer, revealing a handwritten sign that read, “Free to a good home.”

Suddenly, Johnny’s swollen eyes and bad attitude made sense. I squatted down to pet the dog they were looking to rehome. He was a beautiful grayish-cream color with dark markings around his snout and eyes. His square jaw and boxy, muscular build screamed pit bull, but he had the sad eyes of a hound. “You’re getting rid of this handsome guy?” I asked, nodding to the note.

“No!” Johnny snapped.

“Yes,” the woman replied, giving him a stern look. “We have no choice. I’m Shelly, by the way.” She offered me her hand, and I stood and shook it.

“Lily. Why do you have to get rid of him?” I asked. He didn’t look like a biter and was far too calm to be aggressive.

She stepped away from Johnny and the dog, and I followed. Lowering her voice, she replied, “My ex-husband’s divorce attorney is better than mine. We have to sell the house and our new apartment doesn’t allow dogs.” Her eyes hardened and steel coated her words as she looked at her son’s heartbroken expression and added, “I could kill John for making me do this to our boy. He gets off scot-free and I get to be the bad guy once again.”

The dog was watching me, his sad, round eyes pleading for help. I wondered if he knew they were offloading him. “You said the dog’s name is BB?” I asked.

“Yes. He’s a beabull… a beagle pit bull mix. BB just kind of stuck.” Hope brightened her tone. “Are you interested? You can change his name if you don’t like it.”

The generosity of Ladies First was the only thing keeping me from being homeless. I’d passed all my knowledge classes and was scheduled to start my paid electrical apprenticeship on Monday, but my starting wage wasn’t even enough to rent a cardboard box in Seattle. Especially not if I had to put down a dog deposit. Monica and Stocks had made it clear I was welcome at the shelter until I got on my feet. We’d even tossed around the idea of me staying longer and renting my room to help them out, but I didn’t think it was the type of arrangement that would allow me to bring home a pet. Still, Stocks had mentioned wanting a boy dog…

“Are you having a hard time getting rid of him?” I asked.

“Yes.” She sighed. “He’s a four-and-a-half-year-old pit mix. Everyone wants a puppy—and not a pit—but, puppies destroy everything and need training. BB’s a good boy. He’s well-trained, excellent with kids, and very mellow. He needs a good home where he’ll be loved and appreciated.” Her eyes were heavy with tears, and she blinked and looked away. “I’m sorry. This is harder than I thought it would be.”

I couldn’t even begin to imagine what she and Johnny were going through. The dog was tugging at every single one of my heartstrings, and I wanted nothing more than to help him and this struggling family out. Promising to return, I excused myself and stepped away to make a phone call.

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