Page 57 of Heart of Gold
We both agreed to take things slow and get to know each other. What happened on the cruise happened so fast that neither one of us really knew how to process seeing each other again, but we’re both glad it happened.
Which is good, because I don’t know what I would’ve done had she said she regretted it. Been forced to live with it, I guess.
After sleeping until my alarm blares against my nightstand, I roll over and smile. I listened to Quinn’s advice. I’d slept in and now I am about to go to the shelter to see what kind of things I could do to help out.
The best part? Quinn agreed to tag along since it washeridea.
I pick up my phone and shoot off a text to let her know I am on my way. The plan was to pick her up but she insisted she could just meet me there. She claimed she was over on that side of town picking up a few things from the store. I didn’t want toargue and risk freaking her out with my over chivalric behavior right off the bat.
I’d learned from my own mother that sometimes women like being independent. She’s like that with my dad. Most of the time she’s the one pulling the weight and calling the shots. I can tell it aggravates my dad, but he doesn’t dare argue with her.
Instead, he takes his frustration out on me and Levi. Well since Levi’s surgery, mostly me. Mom will take up for dad until she’s blue in the face. It’s a weird dynamic.
I pull into the shelter, and smile when I see Quinn leaning against her SUV. She’s the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Denim overalls hang on her shoulders with a yellow tank top underneath and converse sneakers. Her hair is pulled up into a messy knot on her head, and she’s wearing black framed glasses.
“Hi!” She says, as I jump down out of my truck and I can’t help but sport the widest grin.
“You look cute, I didn’t know you wore glasses.”
She rolls her eyes, “Yeah. Waiting on my new set of contacts to come in the mail. I’m blind.”
I laugh, “You must be. You’re here with me.”
She shoves my shoulder playfully, “Shut up, touchdown hottie.”
My heart races as she wraps her arm through mine and basically pulls me through the door. Her playful attitude is a major change from last night when she was so stressed out over Collins. It makes me wonder if something happened between them. In fact, I know that it did. I know there’s more to what’s going on between them than what she’s told me.
“Can I help you?” The woman behind the counter beams, blowing a stray hair from her sweaty forehead.
“We would like to volunteer. We thought maybe we could start coming on Sundays, if you’d like the help?”
The woman looks around the room at the bags of dog and cat food piled up, as well as the laundry baskets full of blankets and towels. “Are you kiddin’? I’d love the help.”
Quinn claps her hands excitedly and I swear if she had sleeves she’d roll them up to get to work.
“I’m Wendy,” the woman says, holding her hand out to shake. Quinn takes it and introduces herself and I do the same.
“I know who you are,” she drawls. “This town has been waiting for you to turn this program around for two years. You and that quarterback from Florida, Grayson Collins.”
Quinn shifts her weight from one foot to the other, and I do my best to be polite. “Thank you, but can you do me a favor and not tell anyone that I’m here. I don’t want to make a spectacle or anything, I just want to help out.”
“Sure thing.” She agrees, “My lips are sealed.”
She takes us into the back room with cages lining the walls, and points to a giant metal cabinet in the back of the room near the door.
“The leashes are in that cabinet. The dogs like walks but we hardly get any volunteers to help take them. None of them are aggressive and most of them walk well on leashes.”
Quinn’s face lights up, and I get excited the second I see the animals. Wendy walks back into the other room and we look at each other. “You ready?” she asks.
I nod, and we walk back to the cabinet to each grab a couple leashes. The first cage I kneel down in front of houses a black dog that appears to be some kind of lab mix. I look at the piece of tape on the wall above the kennel for the name and nearly fall over.
Daisy.
I turn back to look at Quinn who already has two small dogs leashed up and ready to go. “Look at this name plate.”
A smile spreads across her face. “Daisy.”
I look at the dog and then back to Quinn, “I guess I’ll have to stop calling you that since it’s the dog’s name.”
