Page 90 of Love in Training
Kyle
Monday, April 12, 20__, 5:16 AM
From:[email protected]
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: no subject
Dear Kyle,
Every day, for two years, I’ve wished that you’d stayed.
My life was never better without you—no one’s was. For a while, I thought maybe you orchestrated everything on purpose, just to have the last laugh. But I bet it was hard—like everything else. Making your plan. Putting things in writing. Following through. All while you were suffering.
I wish you’d picked up the phone and called instead of slipping a note in my purse. I wish you’d answered my calls. Let me help. Let me love you. I wish you hadn’t been in so much pain. You were always so burdened, butyouwere never a burden.
I’ve been so focused on what I might’ve done wrong, how I wasn’t enough. But I think I understand now—I wasn’t really the problem. It was that everythingelsewas too much.
There’s so much more I want to tell you, but I’ll stick to what’s most important—Rufus is good. I mean that in every sense of the word. He’s a good dog. He clearly misses you, but he’s going to be okay. Remember in high school when you swore you’d make a dog person out of me? Well, I just want you to know—I’mstillnot a dog person, but I love Rufus. And I’ll always love you.
Love,
Caprice
DREW
It only tooka couple of days for the dogs to work things out. Pudding and Blitz were never the issue. He’d introduced Rufus to the bulldog first, who welcomed him as a playmate, predictably, from the get-go. Blitz was more ambivalent, open to Rufus joining the pack as long as his existence didn’t infringe on his own food or activities. But final approval fell to the shepherd. Drew knew Diesel would accept him eventually, though it was sort of like watching an old officer enduring a new recruit. Rufus came in bold and cocky, strutting around the house like he owned the place at first, until Diesel would get sick of him and put him in his place.
Rufus learned quickly, however, and before long his respect for the older dog was ironed out. Once the pecking order was established, they settled into a daily routine. Drew would bring Rufus with him to work, where he was, for the most part, a model of good training. They would take lunch breaks at home to engage with the other three. And most evenings, Drew would take the Malinois and the border collie for runs in the park.
They always looked for Caprice. They never once caught sight of her.
But they kept each other breathing.
The Sunday after he brought Kyle’s military dog home to live with him, Drew decided to bring Rufus with him to family dinner. It wasn’t a choice, exactly. There was a chance of thunderstorms, and he wasn’t willing to risk leaving him, even in the companionship of the other dogs. Not for the sake of his mother’s Cornish hens.
So he ended up ringing their doorbell with two of Kyle’s favorites—a Belgian Malinois and a tub of rocky road.
“Drew, dear, if you wouldn’t mind, I—” His mother’s sentence cut off as she opened the door. She leaned outside, glancing up and down the street. “Did one of the neighbor’s pets get out?”
“No, Mom,” he said flatly. “This is Rufus. Kyle’s dog.”
He watched carefully as her lip twitched. “Why did you bring it here?”
“Because I’m here,” he said, skipping the air kisses and breezing past her into his childhood home.
They entered the overly formal front hall with its black-and-white marble floors and curving staircase. His father descended from the landing, wearing a suit jacket and carrying apipeof all things. Like he’d accessorized from a pinboard of pretentious male accessories. Drew would have laughed if his dad hadn’t been frowning so hard in his direction.
“What’s this, Andrew?”
Drew bristled. Either from being called by his formal name—his father’s name—or maybe Rufus being referred to asitandthissince they’d walked in the door.
“The dog was Kyle’s,” his mother said behind him. Over him.
He turned and handed her the fast-melting ice cream, giving her no choice but to take it and scurry off to the kitchen before it dripped and ruined the floor polish. His dad reached the bottom of the steps, and though they had been the same height for nearly two decades, Drew still felt small.
Rufus remained at his heel. A good dog.
