by Brisa Starr
“Yup, no collar, and it’s...” Landon looks under the dog. “I mean, he’s injured. We’d better take him home or he’ll be coyote chow before the night’s over.”
“Coyote chow? That’s awful!” I cry and pet the pup’s head gently. “Aw, what a cute fella. His fur is so soft.” He’s small, only about seven pounds, and his fur is a mix of black, gray, and white.
“If I had to guess, I’d say he’s some sort of terrier mix.” I lean a bit closer. “Yeah, definitely terrier.”
“Well, we’ll get him home and see if we can figure out what’s wrong with his paw. Without a tag, we have no idea who he belongs to.”
We turn up the sidewalk leading to our house. I say, “Maybe he’s chipped and a vet will know.”
“Maybe, but the vets aren’t open during lockdown,f except for emergencies, and I’m not sure this qualifies as an emergency.”
“Shoot,” I say, my eyebrows furrowed with worry. I open the door and hold it open for him to walk through carrying the dog.
“I’m not worried,” Landon says calmly. We can take care of him until we find his owners. I’ll take a picture of him, and Sadie can post it on the neighborhood app.”
“That’s a great idea,” I say, feeling relieved. We head to the kitchen to take a better look at the dog’s paw. I turn on the light, and Landon, still holding the puppy, lifts up his paw to inspect it.
I stand there looking at Landon. With a puppy. A hot man and a puppy… could he be any sexier? Where’s a firehose when you need one? I’m about to burst into flames just looking at him.
“Ah. Just as I suspected,” he says and looks at me.
“What?” I ask, bending closer to look at the pup’s paw.
“Cactus needle.” He looks closer to see if he missed any others. “Got any tweezers?”
“Yes!” I get up and run to the bathroom, grab them, and return to the kitchen. “Here.” I hand them to him.
“Pink leopard tweezers?” He laughs.
“Of course!”
He looks at me adoringly, “You’re so fucking cute.”
The professional that he is, he turns his attention back to his patient, who’s beginning to squirm as though he knows what’s about to happen. With a swift, confident tug, Landon plucks out the cactus needle.
The dog lets out a little yelp and then immediately starts licking his paw. Landon sets him down on the floor, and the puppy lies down to get a better angle for licking his wound. I look at the little guy. “Maybe he’s hungry or thirsty.”
Landon, already taking action, fills a bowl with water and sets some beef jerky down next to the dog. The dog wolfs it down and drinks some water. “Well, there’s nothing we can do about finding his owner tonight. I’ll get some blankets and hope he doesn’t make a mess in the house. He can sleep on the floor in our bedroom.”
I’m relieved I didn’t have to fight him on this. “Great idea. I’ll take him in the back yard to see if he has to pee or poop.” I take the dog out, and he does his business quickly. I’m impressed.
I bring the dog back inside and take him into the bedroom where Landon is setting up a little doggy bed on the floor at the foot of our bed. He’s fluffing a pink blanket. I set the dog down, and he takes right to it, twirling in three circles before huffing with an exhale, and settling down.
“Hmmm. I think he likes it here. Poor guy is probably tuckered out,” Landon says, smiling down at the puppy.
I walk to the bathroom and return a minute later. “Now, about that lotion...”
15
Landon
The next morning, I awaken, and for once, I slept later than Emma. Or rather, for once, she woke up earlier than I did. Where is that sweet angel of mine? The sunlight streams in through the wood plantation blinds, and I take a minute to just breathe. Listening to my breath... in and out. In and out. Hmmmm. Maybe I’m getting the hang of this meditation thing, and I metaphorically pat myself on the back.
Oh shit!… I suddenly remember we have a dog! And we need to find his owner… they must be worried sick. I lean over the edge of the bed to see if he’s there. He’s not.
Oh, of course, he’s with Emma.
Alright, let’s go see what they’re up to. I get up, make the bed, and make quick use of the bathroom and brush my teeth. Our unusual circumstances will end eventually, and she’ll go back to Michigan, and I to Wisconsin. I need to move faster and make a plan. I don’t want to be apart from her, but I can’t just up and move my medical practice. I’m always up for a challenge though, and I always get what I want. I’ll just have to figure something out.
I’m eager to see how Emma’s doing with the pup. I head to the kitchen for coffee. They’re not there. I look out the window, but I don’t see them in the back yard.
I call out for her, “Emma?!”
“Out front!” she calls back.
I walk to the front door, still trying to wake up, and trying not to spill my coffee. The dark wood front door is open, and I see through the cast iron screen door that she’s on the porch. Who needs coffee?… my veins pulse just looking at her. She’s wearing her short tie-dye shorts again, my favorite because they give me easy access to her pussy. Especially when she’s feeling extra naughty, and she doesn’t wear any underwear for me.
My cock stirs.
Damn, she’s hot.
I hear the pup whining at my feet, and he interrupts my thoughts. “Not cool, dude,” I tell him. Focusing on Emma again, I exhale and look at her and goosebumps tickle my skin, warming my chest. It’s simple. I want to be with her. Always.
The pup and I watch Emma from our side of the screen inside the house. That’s when I pay attention to what she’s doing. She’s busying herself with something outside. Curious, I leave the dog inside and join Emma out on the porch.
I see she’s putting up a huge, homemade sign with red writing: FOUND PUPPY!
“Really?” I laugh and spill my coffee in the process. Irritated at myself but still amused at Emma’s efforts, I set my coffee down on the ground.
“Yes.” She stands up and brushes a few loose tendrils of chestnut hair out of her face, smiling at me. “When I was a little girl and found lost dogs or cats in my neighborhood, I always took them in. And every time, I’d put a big sign on the porch like this one. Lo and behold, the owners would be out looking for their lost fur baby and see my sign. Worked every time.”
“Cute. It’s worth a shot,” I say. “There are a lot of people walking daily these days with nothing else to do. I even saw a guy roller blading the other day, in case you wondered how bad it’s gotten.” I laugh and open the door to get the pup. I pick up the dog and hand him to her and then pull my phone out of my pocket.
“Hold him up and I’ll take a picture for Sadie to blast on the Sun City West app.” Emma holds the dog up next to her face. She’s smiling like the photo is supposed to be of her, and I snap the picture, smiling back at her. My first picture of her. I’m going to need more. I take another sip of my coffee.
“I’ll take the dog into the back yard and work on my book with him out there. Since it’s fenced, we don’t need to worry about him escaping.” She carries the dog inside and puts him down once I close the door. I watch her as she heads to get her laptop. The pup follows right behind her, already as smitten with her as I am.
I walk into the kitchen to finish my coffee and text Sadie. I send her the picture of Emma and the pup, and she replies right away.
Sadie: Oh Landon.
Me: What????
Sadie: You’re in trouble bro.
Me: Why?
Sadie: Is that Emma?
Me: Yeah, why?
Sadie: Exactly.
Me: Oh I get it. Yeah, she’s amazing. I’m crazy about her. Anyway, we found this dog last night. Can you please post it for the local residents to help us to find the owner?
Sadie: Great idea, I’ll do it right now and see if anyone bites. ;) (Like my joke? Hehe)
Me: Don’t quit your day job.<
br />
Sadie: Well, good luck, bro! Cute dog, too.
Me: Thanks. See ya.
I close the messaging app and look out the window, watching Emma get her work area situated. She finally sits down and leans over to pick up the pup, who’s standing on his hind legs, trying to jump his little body higher than he’s capable. She puts him on her lap, and he settles down immediately, and Emma dives right into her work.
I love her focus and dedication. That’s one thing we have in common. I don’t fool around just waiting for shit to happen. I go after what I want, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do with Emma.
I finish my coffee and rinse the cup, when I notice the laundry is piling up. I’ll do that next so it doesn’t sit there any longer. It’s funny how we don’t have much to do staying home all day and self-isolating, yet it’s a challenge to do basic things like clean and do laundry. Even for me, the neat freak! Well, I won’t be too hard on myself. We did watch a 10-hour documentary the other day about World War II. Surely, that counts for something.
I move the clothes from the floor of the laundry room to the washing machine. As I reach for the detergent, I see on the shelf behind the mops, the paper bag filled with the pieces of Emma’s broken coffee cup.
An idea pops into my head. Of course!
I go out into the garage to ensure privacy and call Marsha, who lives across the street. She can help! Ten minutes later, we have a plan for Emma’s Granny’s cup. I open the garage and quickly sneak across the street to put the bag on Marsha’s porch.
After the laundry is done and a bit of cleaning, I follow Emma’s example and sit down to work myself. I have three tele-medicine appointments, and I see from my email that I need to call in a few prescriptions for patients. Although my mind keeps drifting to Emma, I’m able to finish my work before lunch time. I give her another hour, then I pop my head outside. The puppy lazily looks up from snoozing on her lap, and when he sees it’s just me, he puts his head back down and closes his eyes.
“I think you have a new BFF,” I say and walk outside, sitting down next to her.
“He’s so cute,” she says. “I’ll be sad to see him go. But I expect he’ll be happy back with his owners. How have you been? What’s up?” She pets the puppy and looks at me.
“Well, I was productive and managed to get a couple hours of work in. I also did laundry,” I say proudly. “But I received a notification from my phone that my screen time has increased by like 8000% in the past week, so I need to put an end to that. Playing too many games, reading too much news.”
She laughs and puts the puppy down on the ground. “That’s not good! Clearly you need to do something that doesn’t involve your phone.”
“Such as making us some grilled cheese sandwiches,” I tell her.
“Yum!” she says and her eyes light up.
“I’ll pair mine with a whey protein shake.” She wrinkles her nose in disgust. “What would you like to drink with yours?”
“Well, now that you ask, I’d like a big-ass glass of super-chilled wine.” She looks at me with her eyes sparkling, and her lips twitch into a strange smile.
“What?” I ask looking directly at her. “What are you hiding?”
“Oh, nothing...” she pauses for effect. “Just that... I’M DONE WITH MY BOOK!”
“Emma!” I jump out of my chair and pull her out of hers, giving her a tight hug, full of joy for her accomplishment. “I’m so happy for you! Yay!” I release her from my embrace and give her a solid high-five with a loud SMACK!
“I know! I’m thrilled,” she says. “I’m SO happy. I finished the final chapter, so my first draft is done. I still need to edit and proofread it, so there’s quite a bit of work left to do. But first? FOOD!”
“I’m on it! You just sit back and relax out here. Take a break, play with the pup. I’ll go inside and make sandwiches and bring you a well-deserved ‘big-ass glass of super-chilled wine,’ which will be New Zealand’s finest Sauvignon Blanc. Your favorite.”
She smiles in appreciation and sits back down, kicking up her feet on my now-empty chair. She clasps her hands behind her head and closes her eyes, face basking in the sunshine. She looks completely relaxed, happy, and proud of herself. I stare at her for a moment, and I’m struck by the excitement I feel for her reaching her own goal. It was important for me that she succeed, and watching her do it, I feel a sense of pride, like, that’s my girl.
I go back inside to make our lunch, and I take out the loaf of sourdough bread. Then I grab the sliced gruyere cheese and wine from the refrigerator. After I butter the bread, I turn on the electric panini press and lean against the counter, waiting for it to heat up.
It’s in this moment that something big shifts in my heart. My happiness for Emma reaching her goal makes me feel a wonderful sensation of strength, pride, and joy. I’ve been along for the ride, and I’ve seen her ups and downs in the process. I reflect on how much this has meant to me.
I’ve never really given much of a rat’s ass about another woman’s goals, so this is a first for me. I wouldn’t say I was ever a dick about it or anything, rather, I just stayed focused on my own shit, and I didn’t get emotionally invested with other people’s goals. This is different though, and I shake my head, in a bit of awe and disbelief, at the continued passion I have for Emma.
And it makes me think about my own goals coming out here. I’d wanted to learn how to meditate and work on handling my stress. The funny thing is, I’ve hardly felt any stress just by being here with Emma. And while I’ve been successful at meditating every day, I think about how much better it has been working on it with someone by my side.
A partner.
For life.
She is my life. From the moment I saw her bending over that trunk, trying to lift that heavy suitcase filled with all her herbal shit, I was hers forever. Crazy as it seems, with all of our differences, she’s my soulmate and I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want to make babies with her. I want to love her forever. I just need to convince her that we can make this work, no matter what.
I finish making the sandwiches and take them out to Emma. The pup goes crazy at the smell, and Emma breaks off a piece of her crust and gives it to him. Then, we toast to her completing the first draft of her book. Of course, I drink wine with her to celebrate. A protein shake just wouldn’t do.
“How much more time do you think you need before it’s ready to publish?” I ask, while polishing off my last bite of grilled cheese.
“I’m not sure, but I’m going to dive back in right after we eat.” She grins ear to ear and finishes the last sip of her wine. She holds up her empty glass, “Yes, I’m ready to get back to work.”
“Perfect. Well, since my phone doesn’t need me using it anymore for a while, I’m going to go hit some balls. Maybe practice my putting and chipping, too, so a couple of hours. When I come back, the real celebration begins.” I stand up and clear the plates. “I’ll take out the steaks. Are you up for a celebratory dinner of ‘perfectly grilled steaks’ again?”
She blushes and knows damn well how we’re going to celebrate.
“That sounds delicious,” she says, trying to hide her acknowledgment and desire.
I bend down to kiss her, and I head back inside. As though on cue, the pup jumps up and sits down next to her, ready to take another nap on her lap while she finishes what she set out to do when she came to Arizona.
16
Landon
After another great meal outside under the setting sun, we finish our perfectly grilled steaks.
Emma leans back in her chair and pats her belly saying, “Well, I’m full and satisfied.”
“Are you?” I ask suggestively. I lean forward in my chair and put my hands on her knees facing her. I slowly trace my index finger up her inner thigh.
She stops me. “Not yet, Landon. Good things come to those who wait.”
She stands up and picks up our plates, and I join her with the dirty grill utensi
ls and empty wine bottle and glasses. We head into the kitchen to do the dishes and she says, “Why don’t you put on some music and we’ll dance. You can’t have a true celebration without dancing, and now that I have finished my book, I want to dance.”
Great idea. “Alexa, turn on some dance music,” I command. The sound of upbeat dance music pulses through the system, and we start dancing, throwing our hands in the air and shaking our hips. Emma is completely in her element, even though this woman has no rhythm whatsoever when it comes to dancing, and she doesn’t care. She’s letting herself go totally free, not minding one whit that I’m watching her.
We finish doing the dishes, dancing our way through the washing and drying. She turns and looks at me, her eyes and face full of life and sparkling energy. “Let’s do something!” she exclaims. “I’m just so happy, and I want to get out and do something.”
“I’m down! Let’s take the golf cart for a spin,” I suggest, while drying my hands on a dish towel.
“Great idea!” she replies and does a little hop.
Just then, the doorbell rings, and we look at each other, confused. Who could that be? It’s eight o’clock at night, too late for any Home Shopping Network or Amazon deliveries. The pup runs to the door and then starts barking like mad… sensing something? Or maybe it’s just the sound of the doorbell, and he’s being protective.
He stands up on his little hind legs, tail wagging, as he looks out the window next to the door. He starts going crazy, barking and jumping. I open the door and see an elderly couple with their faces covered by surgical masks. The old lady, wearing a pair of mint-green pants and a bright orange blouse, looks like she’s about to burst into tears, “There you are, Biscuit!” Looking at the dog, she continues, hardly able to choke back her sobs, “Oh thank you! Thank you! I’m so glad you’re OK!” She bends down and looks through the screen door at the pup, and he’s trying to lick her through it.
