Page 15 of Love in Mission City
Unexpectedly, Zeus licked Henry’s cheek.
“Zeus.” I might’ve moaned that.
Henry stroked his muzzle. “He’s a good boy. I always wanted a dog. But Grandad didn’t like loud noises. Because they reminded him of the war. And most dogs bark. I asked for a cat, but Mom was allergic to fur.”
“How come you haven’t gotten a dog or cat out here now? Or do you have a cat in the house? Zeus loves cats—sometimes to his own peril, because they don’t always love him back.”
Slowly, Henry rose. “No, I never got a pet. I…didn’t know how to take care of them, and I’m afraid of making a mistake.”
I blinked. “Uh, most animals are pretty resilient. Feed them, pet them, take them to the vet for their shots…that’s pretty much it.”
“But…bears…”
“Well, then you keep them fenced or leashed.” I glanced outside. “You get a lot of bears?”
He nodded. “And coyotes. And racoons, skunks, and various other creatures.” This time, he blinked. “I really love it out here. I was sorry when my mom died, but it meant I could come out here.” He gave Zeus another affectionate pet. “Dinner?”
As we walked back to the cabin, I marvelled that was the most he’d ever spoken to me in one conversation.
I assumed the conversation would continue through the meal. But although I peppered in comments about my ex-husband—which, in retrospect, might not have been the best option—he remained pretty much silent.
The lamb tasted amazing. Zeus wolfed down his stew in just a few bites and spent about ten minutes licking every drop from his bowl. My cider added a pleasant touch. Eventually, though, it became clear we’d exhausted conversation. After about an hour, I offered to help clean the dishes.
Henry declined my offer.
When I got to the front door, I donned the coat I’d removed.
The cabin, as far as I could discern, was three rooms—this main room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. Again, I was ridiculously relieved to see indoor plumbing. I whistled.
Zeus reluctantly left the kitchen area and came to my side. He gave me puppy-dog eyes.
“I think he really likes you.”
Henry again crouched. “You’re welcome to come back anytime, Zeus. I make a mean beef stew.”
My traitorous pooch woofed.
I rolled my eyes. “Well, thank you for the tour and for dinner. We really enjoyed ourselves.” Better to include the dog, right? Because otherwise it would seem like it’d just been the two of us, and that felt perilously close to a date. In fact, part of me wanted to give him a kiss. I held in the urge.
“Oh.” Henry rose. He snagged a paper bag and handed it to me.
“You didn’t have to.”
He pinkened. “I know. But I wanted to. I hope you like it.” Then he held the door open for me.
I took that as my cue to leave.
Only later, as I sat alone in my kitchen did I open the gift.
My breath caught.
A fairy sat below an apple tree with an apple held in her palm. Heck, Henry’d made a sign with the name of my farm, and the fairy was the color of the uniform that hung in the barn.
I blinked back tears.
What does this mean?
Uncertain, but also exhausted, I headed to bed.
