Page 4 of After Hours
Soft panting and the warm, wet press of a nose against my cheek woke me from a dream of rappelling from a rainbow-colored blimp. I pushed Sugar off my face gently and snuggled her into the circle of my arms. “Just five more minutes.”
Once she knew I was awake, however, she wouldn’t let up until I got out of bed. The girl was relentless when she needed food. “Okay, okay…” I rolled out of the tangle of blankets, pulled my favorite oversize hoodie over my head, shoved my feet into chunk blue and purple knit socks, and padded into the kitchen to dish out. “Chicken and rice stew or salmon and sweet potato, hm?” I glanced down at the fluffy white pup as if she really cared what flavor of gourmet canned food she got.
I opened the can of chicken mix and spooned it into her clean bowl. “You eat better than I do, you know that, Sugar?” She didn’t spare me one glance as she dove into her dish.
After the long morning of work and the flat tire debacle, I only got home after two o’clock, and it took me another hour to fall asleep for my usual nap. The clock on my phone revealed I had only managed to sleep for about thirty minutes. My ass would be dragging the rest of the day. I looked down at the dog. “Life was easier before you came.”
She had no clue what I was saying, of course, and I never spoke harshly to her at all. If she could understand, she’d know I was teasing anyway. After my great aunt passed, her darling Lady Sugarplum von Snugglefluff came to stay with me, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Who could ask for anything more out of life? A sweet dog, a decent job, an apartment of my own, enough free time and disposable income to go climbing most weekends, and some friends to do it with. I flipped on the coffee maker and stretched. A boyfriend wouldn’t hurt.
The thought sent my mind flying back to the dark encounter on the lakeshore with the cute, wet guy I rescued from drowning.I barked out a laugh, and Sugar shot me a look before turning back to her food. No, he wasn’t in any grave danger, but I was happy to have the opportunity to take his hand and feel his slight body against mine for even a brief moment.
“There’s something wrong with me, Sugar,” I said as I grabbed my coffee cup and headed for the back door that opened into the tiny back yard ringed with an ugly vinyl fence. I cracked it open so she could head out for her evening constitutional and potty break. “I must be desperate if that was the big excitement of my life.”
My phone vibrated on the kitchen counter, so I turned back to tap the screen to see a text from my friend and climbing partner, Danica.
Dani:Leo + I hitting the ledge over Rocky Cove on Sat. U in?
I’d met Dani and her husband at a bouldering event half a state away the year before. Once we found out we lived ten minutes apart, we teamed up for day trips to local spots for hikes and climbing. They were my closest friends, but we usually had a few others join us when they had free time. The ledge near Rocky Cove was one of my favorites to climb: not too difficult, clean approach, and an amazing view of the lake.
Zane:PM? I work Sat AM.
My overnight work schedule messed with the possibility of morning climbs, and early afternoons weren’t any easier.Sometimes I skipped my nap. Rock climbing wasn’t something to do when you were fatigued, though, so it didn’t happen often.
Dani:2PM.
Not ideal, but doable. I texted back that I’d give her a final answer by Thursday and took another sip of coffee. Sugar returned from her wanderings and settled into her plush purple dog bed with her stuffed daisy toy. She tucked one paw over it and flopped over on her side for a nap.
“I wish I could join you,” I muttered on my way to the bedroom to find some warm socks. “Well, not join you. I wouldn’t fit in your bed.”
My bed was plenty big enough to share. I flopped onto the quilt, skooched up, and settled against my pillows. Thoughts of sharing my bed brought to mind the guy from the lake. Oscar. “Ah, stop it, Zane!” I grabbed my phone, opened the text thread with my dad, and scrolled back through the last few messages.
My parents had moved to Florida about five years ago so dad could pursue his amateur golf aspirations. He worked for a small course down there. At an office party a while back, his boss got drunk and drove a golf cart into the catering tent. It ran over my father, broke his spine in two places, and paralyzed him from the waist down.
It took a while for him to recover, tackled the lawsuit, and move into a new, bigger, accessible home. I gave him a lot of credit for coming out on the other side of such a stupid tragedy the same strong, humorous man he was before. Both he and my mom loved quirky stories and always had plenty of their own to share.
Zane:Rescued a guy from a lake in the middle of the night at one of my delivery spots.
Dad:Did he thank you properly?
That question brought some wildly inappropriate yet amazing options to mind. My fantasies were not the type of quirky story I shared with my parents, though.
Zane:Yeah. He wasn’t in any trouble. Just wet.
Mom:Was he cute?
Zane:Not every guy I come across is a potential date, mom.
Mom:But you remembered him and brought him up! What might that mean?
What did that mean? There was no doubt that Oscar was adorable. Those curls and that sweet smile. Those big eyes with thick, dark lashes. Ugh.
We chatted for a while about work, life, and mostly their interesting outings. My parents had a more exciting life than I did for sure. The most intriguing thing in mine was total fantasy.
Chapter 3
Oscar
