Page 48 of Call it Reckless

“Fine.” She shook out the blanket, stretching it across the back seat. She whistled and crooned, but the dog continued to lie on the sidewalk. I wasn’t sure if he was as stubborn as his mistress or just too weak to climb up.

“Come here, boy. I’ll help you.” I crossed back over to him.

“Watch—”

Whatever she was going to say got lost as I hefted the dog who felt lighter than he should in my arms and placed him on the blanket. When he shivered, I pulled the ends of the blanket around him.

“I’ll be damned.”

I looked up to see Bristol’s mouth dropped open. She quickly shut it when she saw me staring.

Realizing her companion took up most of the back seat, Bristol sat next to me on the ride home. “Thank you.”

This time, I was certain it was sincere. “You’re welcome.”

Minutes later, we turned into her driveway. She seemed surprised when I got out of the car with her. I grabbed the bike and propped it against the side of the little building next to the big house while she coaxed the dog down. I grabbed her grocery bags—all things for the dog.

“Did you just get him today?”

“More like he got me today.” She chuckled. “Can’t say I mind a little company here. It’s a big house for just one person. Do you want to come in? I think you know the way by now, only this time, you don’t have to enter uninvited.”

I tried not to show my surprise at the invitation and glanced at my watch. I still had a little time before I picked Lexi up from school. I told myself I only wanted to make sure she didn’t have trouble getting the dog up her front steps. “Sure, thanks.”

Once again, we ended up in the kitchen, where she told me the story of how she’d been adopted by the dog while she set out food and water for Buddy, as she’d named him. He gobbled up the food, then looked at her with adoring brown eyes. I didn’t blame him. He deserved someone to pamper him.

I scratched his ears. “Poor guy. It seems today was his lucky day.”

She surprised me when she gestured toward a chair. “Want a cup of coffee? I’m making it anyway. My friend, Paige, says there’s more caffeine running in my veins than blood. I need to cut back, I know, but today’s not that day.”

I chuckled and sat. “Same with me.”

She was quiet as she measured out the brew. While it perked, she leaned against the counter. “Thanks again for picking us up. When I started out this morning, I didn’t know I was going to have such a detour. I’m used to being active, but it’s been so long since I could actually do anything physical just for fun. The temptation proved too great.”

I thought about what it would be like if I was laid up and couldn’t get out. Being outdoors was how I recharged. I wondered if it was the same for her.

She leaned against the kitchen counter and rubbed her leg again.

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. And no, I’m not just saying that.”

She pulled two mugs from her cabinet, talking as she poured. “It’s odd. Some days when I wake up, I lay there psyching myself up to push through the pain and move my legs to stand up. And then I’m surprised by how easy it is. I guess because for so long, it wasn’t. And then there are other days where I forget everything that happened, and I jump out of bed, and I’ll feel a twinge that makes me remember. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever feel normal again, if I’ll ever be able to just get up and not think about it. Weird, huh?”

She set some cream and sugar on the table, then filled the mugs and brought them over.

I let the coffee warm my hands as they wrapped around the mug. “No. It’s not strange, at least not to me.”

I hesitated, not sure if I should share my thoughts. Our circumstances were different, but I understood about the balance of forgetting and moving on. I decided it couldn’t hurt.

“It took me a couple of years before I could go without thinking of Abby first thing when I woke up. Some days, I would lay there and listen for the shower to turn on. She was an early bird, always liked to be up and one step ahead of the rest of us. Other days, I’d lay there knowing I wouldn’t walk into the kitchen with a warm breakfast already waiting. The stories are different, but I think I know what you’re saying. I know it sounds trite, and you’re probably sick of hearing it, but one day at a time, Bri. It’s not a race. You’ll get there.”

Bri?Where did I get that name from? Maybe I’d heard Emalee use it. If Bristol noticed my slip, she didn’t say anything.

Her smile was small, but it was there. “Thanks, Reid.” She glanced at her phone. “Oh, boy. Speaking of getting somewhere, I guess I better get to the garage. I have some interviews soon.” She glanced down at Buddy. “I wonder if he’ll be okay here while I’m gone.”

A snore was the answer. I suspected the poor dog needed a good sleep in a warm and safe place.

We grabbed our jackets and keys. On impulse, I pulled Bristol in for a hug. At first, she seemed stiff, but when she relaxed in my arms, it felt so natural. Her face snuggled against my chest, and I pressed my cheek against her soft hair, feeling oddly protective of her. I’d planned to release her, but when her eyes caught mine, they held. Neither of us moved as the grandfather clock in the hallway ticked away.

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