Page 88 of Golden Hour

“No, Bubba is asleep. This is the best part.”

“I need to talk to you without the dogs. They gossip.”

“Not this one,” I say, pointing down at Bubba. I kiss the top of his head. “He’s perfect.”

“Come on.”

My heart drops that I can’t stay in this pile of love mush. I struggle to place Bubba on the floor of the kennel since he is so heavy, and I finally get him on the floor so I can stand up. I follow Priscilla out the kennel and latch the door.

“I’ll be back, Bubba.” The dog settles his head on the concrete floor and looks up at me with sad eyes. My heart twists.

“Fresh air will be good,” she says, leading me outside. It’s mild today, probably fifty-something degrees, but I still wrap my zipped hoodie tighter around me. We find a bench in front of the shelter, and she motions for me to sit.

I plop down, resting my elbows on my legs and dropping my head in my hands. My temples throb.

“I have never seen you like this,” she says.

“I know,” I say.

“What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Come on. It will help to talk about it. Is it something with your mom?”

“No, it’s not that.”

“What is it? I can’t handle you sad. If you’re sad, something is very, very wrong.”

“I got involved with Jackson Finch.”

“I figured it was that. Ramon mentioned something,” she says, a little too loudly.

“He’s not ready.” I lower my face to my hands.

“I’m not surprised.” Priscilla rubs my back.

“I saw her parents at the church my grandfather goes to. I didn’t know they ran that church.”

“Rob and Marla Williams. Very nice people.”

“I don’t mean to gossip.” I sit back.

“It’s not gossiping if it happened to you. It’s just a conversation between friends.”

That makes me smile. I’ve been so focused on Jackson and our friendship that I forgot about others that could be cultivated. Priscilla has been a great mentor to me, and we share lots of values. There’s others in my life too. Ramon, her nephew, is my favorite co-worker; I really should hang out with him more. Annie and Whitney, Cameron and Reid’s girlfriends, are older than me but have always accepted me. There’s Izzie and Tara who have wine nights that I could bring root beer to.

Maybe it’s time to spread my energy around. Maybe my heart would hurt less.

“They want to see Jackson. They haven’t seen him since right after Amy’s funeral.”

“I think he left town shortly after that. I don’t blame him. This whole town loves their gossip. That man just lost his wife, but women started paying attention to him in a seriously gross way.”

My tears dry up instantly. “Wait, am I a gross woman?”

Priscilla waves her hands. “No, no, no. Everyone felt sorry for him, wanted to comfort him. Told him ‘everything happens for a reason’ and some shit. Sorry, I said that.” She covers her mouth.

I giggle. “That’s fine.”

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