Page 46 of Baby, It's You
“Right!” Hunter exclaims. “If you want a simple, modern house, find a simple modern house. Don’t change the old, cool ones.”
“Let people like us appreciate them,” I add.
“Exactly.” He pushes the front door open.
I’m not prepared for what I see when I walk inside the doorway. The interior opens straight to a front room with a large, vaulted ceiling. A unique ’70s style prism glass chandelier dangles down and the opposite side has a giant window overlooking trees in the backyard.
“I like how you acted amazed when you went to the Rays’ house, when you come back to this place every day. It’s equally, if not more, incredible.”
Hunter chuckles. “Their place is amazing. Of course, I like my house, too. I even dreamed of living here as a child.”
“I would have, too, if I knew this place existed,” I agree.
“I actually grew up down the street, so driving by it a few times a day really cemented it into my brain. I had a goal to work towards.”
“Does your family still live down the street?”
“Just my mom,” he says. “I was an only child.”
“Me, too.”
“Did you like it?” he asks me.
“Heck no,” I respond. “I was so lonely growing up, all I wanted was a sibling. I used to pray at night for one. But now as an adult, I’m glad I never had one. I wouldn’t want another child subjected to the stuff that I was growing up.”
Hunter looks concerned by what I said, and I try to quickly brush off what I just shared with him. “So, give me this tour!”
He breaks our eye contact and begins to lead me through the house. Every room is clean and simplistically decorated. There isn’t an item out of place.
We get to the kitchen and there’s all blue cabinetry and a small wooden dinner table. I walk along the side of the table and rub my hands over the wood. Then I notice a room off to the right of the kitchen. “What’s that?” I ask him.
“That’s the guest room; my cousin is staying there. He’s been gone for a little while, though, so I’m basically just holding his stuff.”
I shake my head. “Cool, cool.”
“Yeah, I guess,” he murmurs, as I hear a little jingle noise. “That’s Dog.”
“Dog?” I ask, confused. “Does your dog not have a name?”
“Dog is a cat named Dog.” He beams as a small black cat comes around the corner.
“Oh my god.” I drop to my knees when I see it and the cat comes towards me. “Dog.” I laugh. “Okay, how did that name come about?”
“After my dad passed, I went to the shelter to get a dog and instead I came back with this little lady. She wouldn’t stop meowing when I walked past, so I asked if I could hold her and as soon as she was in my arms, it was over for me. I had to adopt her. Later that day, my mom stopped by with a dog collar, a bed, and dog toys she had bought prematurely when I told her I was adopting one. I felt so bad when she showed up with everything because she made the effort, which she hadn't been doing much at that time, after my dad passed. I saw her face fall when she realized I didn’t have a dog, so in the moment I quickly said, ‘It’s fine, Mom! It’s Dog!’ And that was it, the name just stuck.”
“I love that,” I tell him. “Dog is a perfect name for this cutie.”
I coo at the cat as I stroke her back. She gives me one last second of her time and then saunters off to another room. I start to get up off the floor as Hunter reaches out his hand to help me. Déjàvu from when this happened before flashes through my mind and I internally cringe. I can tell Hunter is recalling the moment, too, as he helps me up.
“Sorry about brushing you off before when you tried to help me up that night at the bar. I was so embarrassed,” I say, my words drifting off into the space between us.
“Are you kidding me?” he responds. “You had nothing to be ashamed of. I made an ass out of myself and hurt you at the same time. I still think about it every night before I fall asleep.”
I laugh. “So, you think about me in bed?”
Oh my god. Why did I even just say that? A manhole can swallow me up now. Beam me up, aliens.
Hunter bites at his bottom lip, seeming unsure how to respond. His familiar shy blush blooms across his cheeks.
