Page 135 of Three Not-So-Little Words
I still don’t know if this is a good idea, but the look in this dog’s eyes tells me that we are both a little broken inside. Maybe we can help each other put the pieces back together again.
I look down at the cute pup in my lap who is now rolling over and letting me rub his belly. “What do you think, Alro? Do you want to come home with me?”
A few hours later, Arlo and I have filled out all of the paperwork, stopped by the pet store, and made our way back home. It’s amazing how much change I am already seeing in this dog. Getting out of the shelter was like breathing fresh life into him.
At the pet store, he was curious about absolutely everything. Sure, he was still scared a lot, but curiosity was first and foremost. He sniffed and sniffed, and I bought half the store to make sure that he would be comfortable when he got back home.
I think it’s safe to say this dog now has more stuff than I do. That’s okay. He’s much cuter than I am.
I got him a dog bed for the living room, but as soon as I’m comfortable on the couch, I call him up there with me. It takes him a minute to decide what he wants to do, but once he jumps up and realizes how comfortable it is, he settles in nicely.
I turn on a baking show to zone out for a while, and when I’m not paying attention, he makes himself comfortable in the crook of my arm with his head resting in my lap.
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “You’re going to fit in well here. You just needed someone to love you, didn’t you?”
As I rub his head, I continue to talk. “You’re just not quite sure how to accept love. That’s okay. I’m not that great at that either.”
I think about Drew’s confession the other night. He said he loved me, and I’m sure I looked like I just saw a ghost. I’m not saying Idon’tlove him. But I’m not sure that I do, and I’m sure as shit not going to say it without meaning it–especially when there’s a kid involved.
Yes, I’m crazy about him. He’s a great guy who treats me like gold. And I haven’t run away even though I’m not used to any of the relationship stuff.
But am I really ready to put down roots with someone and give up the life that I had? What if he wants me to completely stop traveling? What if I end up barefoot and pregnant? Just the thought of that makes me shudder.
I’m not sure I ever want to get married or have kids of my own. I’d consider marriage before the kids thing, but even that, I’m unsure about.
I feel like saying the L word is a freight train heading straight for the marriage stop, and I don’t know that I’m ready for any of that.
Then again, how long is Drew going to stick around if I always keep him at arm’s length? If I can’t commit to him, why would he continue to commit to me?
Part of me wonders if that’s what I’m waiting for deep down inside. If Drew left, I could retreat back into my comfort zone and not have to worry about anyone but myself.
I let out a heavy sigh. Why am I such a fucking mess?
Maybe it’s time to look into some therapy.
fifty-two
The Veronica Lawson Effect
Drew
“Why are we going to Ronnie’s?” Colton asks. “She always comes to our house.”
“I’m not sure, bud. She said she had a surprise that she wanted us to see,” I tell him.
And it’s the truth. I have no idea what Ronnie has planned. I doubt it’s as big as the last surprise. I mean, I hope that she didn’t kidnap a penguin from the zoo or something. Howsurprised would I really be if that was the case? Ronnie is the definition of a wild card.
We pull up in the driveway, and head inside. I knock on the door, and I hear Ronnie call, “Come in!”
We walk in, and there is Ronnie in the entryway, holding a dog on a leash.
I cock one eyebrow at her while Colton says, “Dad, look! It’s a dog!”
“I see that,” I reply.
“Ronnie, did you get me a dog?” He squeals.
“Yeah, Ronnie,” I say with a smile. “Did you get him a dog?”
