Page 28 of Fa-La-La-La Faking It
“I said ‘fine.’ And if you make a big thing out of it, I might just change my mind,” Gus harrumphed.
“I think what my uncle means is, yes, he’d be delighted to pet your dog,” Jace said.
“That’s fantastic!” Adaline bounced from foot to foot. She had a feeling Jace had more than a little to do with his uncle’s change of heart, but that didn’t matter. It almost felt like a Christmas miracle. “Come on, Fuzzy. Let’s go visit Jace’s uncle Gus.”
She gathered the Cavalier in her arms, grabbed a nearby chair and placed it beside Gus’s right arm. She’d seem him using his TV remote before and knew he was right-handed.
Adaline settled in the chair as quickly as she could with Fuzzy sitting in her lap, facing Gus. The jingle bell tied to his antlers swayed as he panted softly, eager for the older man’s attention.
“Hello,” Gus said to the dog with all the enthusiasm of a person answering a call from a telemarketer. With a slight tremor in his fingers, he pointed at Fuzzy’s antlers. “I’m sorry she makes you wear those things.”
Fuzzy craned his slender neck and nudged Mr. Martin’s hand with his nose, angling for a proper pat.
Miracle of miracles, it worked. Mr. Martin ran his fingertips along the feathering on Fuzzy’s front left leg. The Cavalier responded by plopping his paw in the elderly man’s hand.
Mr. Martin laughed under his breath, and someone could’ve knocked Adaline right over with a feather. She beamed at Jace over the top of his uncle’s head and whispered, “Thank you.”
No, he mouthed.Thankyou.
Warmth radiated throughout Adaline’s entire body as his eyes remained fixed on hers. This was a special moment, and it was all Jace’s doing, whether or not he wanted to admit it. And after all the grief his uncle had put her through, it felt like a gift.
Adaline had the absurd desire to lean forward and kiss him—just a gentle touch of her lips near the corner of his perfect mouth. Her heart thundered in her chest. Before she could make sense of the inappropriate urge in themostinappropriate of places, Mr. Martin began to cough.
It was a dry, barking cough at first but quickly turned into a deep, chest-rattling hack. Fuzzy flinched, and Adaline swept the puppy out of the way.
“It’s okay,” Jace said as he ran a soothing hand over his uncle’s back. “We’re okay. Thank you for the visit. We appreciate it.”
“Anytime,” Adaline said with her heart in her throat. “See you later, Mr. Martin.”
But the older man waved her off without making eye contact, and a heaviness settled over Adaline as she placed Fuzzy back down on the ground so she could guide him toward their next resident.
“Adaline, honey.” Gram pat the empty sofa cushion beside her and waved. “Come sit down by the Christmas tree.”
Fuzzy had greeted every single person in the lobby, seeking out each resident for a little doggy comfort and joy. As a therapy dog, his job was to simply love on people. Cavalier King Charles spaniels were perfectly cut out for this kind of work because they were so people-oriented. Fuzzy never met a stranger—as evidenced by how excited he’d been to finally interact with Mr. Martin.
Adaline’s job as therapy dog handler was obviously to monitor the residents’ interactions with her pup, but another big part of her role was to simply listen. So many seniors were lonely and needed someone to talk to. They told Adaline stories about their childhood pets or dogs they’d had to give up when health challenges prevented them from being able to properly care for a pet. They talked about how soft Fuzzy’s fur felt and how they’d never met a dog so gentle with his affection. Sometimes they wanted to chat about things that had nothing at all to do with animals. They’d sit and stroke Fuzzy, and share precious memories with Adaline, and when the visit was over, hardly any of the residents knew Adaline’s name.
But they always knew Fuzzy’s.
Adaline loved every minute of it. Sometimes she felt like the keeper of secrets at Bluebonnet Senior Living, but she still didn’t know a single thing about Jace’s uncle Gus. She didn’t know a whole lot about Jace, come to think of it—certainly not enough to be fantasizing about kissing him as if she were tipsy on spiked eggnog and Jace’s Christmas tree–scented pheromones. She’d begun to think of his intoxicating scent as Eau de Lumberjack.
Focus.She dragged her gaze away from Jace and his uncle, sitting apart from the crowd on the other side of the newly decorated tree. Gram deserved her undivided attention.
Adaline sat down next to her grandmother, and Fuzzy settled into a down-stay at her feet. The Cavalier gazed up at the tall fir tree. His little face reflected back at him from the shiny silver mercury glass baubles hanging from the lower branches, and he cocked his head, fascinated by his own likeness.
Gram chuckled at him and shook her head. “That dog of yours is too cute for his own good, Adaline.”
“He’s adorable and he knows it. He’s such a special dog, though, Gram. He’s changed my life. I’m so lucky to have him.”
“I know you are, darling.” Her grandmother patted her hand. “But he still can’t take the place of a man.”
“Gram!” Not this again. Adaline wanted to sink into the sofa cushions and disappear. Did they really have to talk about her love life—or lack thereof—in such a public setting?
“Can you please keep your voice down?” Adaline whispered through a tight smile.
“You worry too much, dear. Everyone in this room is hard of hearing,” Gram said.
Not everyone.
