The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

by Mariana Zapata

  And I couldn’t stop myself from taking it all in, at least until he caught me.

  Then we stared at each other, and I knew we were both thinking about the same exact thing: the night before. Not the long talk we’d had about our families—and that raw honesty we’d given each other—but about what happened after that.

  The movie. The damn movie.

  I didn’t know what the hell I’d been thinking, fully fucking aware I was already mopey, when I asked if he wanted to watch my favorite movie as a kid. I’d watched it hundreds of times. Hundreds of times. It felt like love and hope.

  And I was an idiot.

  And Aiden, being a nice person who apparently let me get away with most of the things I wanted, said, “Sure. I might fall asleep during it.”

  He hadn’t fallen asleep.

  If there was one thing I learned that night was that no one was impervious to Little Foot losing his mom. Nobody. He’d only slightly rolled his eyes when the cartoon started, but when I glanced over at him, he’d been watching faithfully.

  When that awful, terrible, why-would-you-do-that-to-children-and-to-humanity-in-general part came on The Land Before Time, my heart still hadn’t learned how to cope and I was feeling so low, the hiccups coming out were worse than usual. My vision got cloudy. I got choked up. Tears were coming out of my eyes like the powerful Mississippi. Time and dozens of viewings hadn’t toughened me up at all.

  And as I’d wiped at my face and tried to remind myself it was just a movie and a young dinosaur hadn’t lost his beloved mom, I heard a sniffle. A sniffle that wasn’t my own. I turned not-so-discreetly and saw him.

  I saw the starry eyes and the way his throat bobbed with a gulp. Then I saw the sideways look he shot me as I sat there dealing with my own emotions, and we stared at each other. In silence.

  The big guy wasn’t handling it, and if there were ever a time in any universe, watching any movie, this would be the cause of it.

  All I could do was nod at him, get up to my knees, and lean over so I could wrap my arms around his neck and tell him in as soothing of a voice as I could get together, “I know, big guy. I know,” even as another round of tears came out of my eyes and possibly some snot out of my nose.

  The miraculous part was that he let me. Aiden sat there and let me hug him, let me put my cheek over the top of his head and let him know it was okay. Maybe it happened because we’d just been talking about the faulty relationships we had with our families or maybe it was because a child losing its mother was just about the saddest thing in the world, especially when it was an innocent animal, I don’t know. But it was sad as shit.

  He sniffed—on any other person smaller than him it would have been considered a sniffle—and I squeezed my arms around him a little tighter before going back to my side of the bed where we finished watching the movie. Then he turned to look at me with those endless brown eyes. “Stay here tonight,” he’d murmured, and that was that.

  Had I wanted to go to my room? Not when I was lying in the most comfortable bed I’d ever slept on, snuggled under warm sheets. What was I going to do? Play hard to get? I wasn’t that dumb. So I stayed, and Aiden eventually turned off the lights save for the one in the en suite, and we finally shared a brief “good night.”

  If I didn’t know Aiden any better, I would have figured he’d been embarrassed to have gotten so sad over a cartoon, but I knew him. He didn’t get shy.

  But he hadn’t said a word about needing a moment or asking me to get out of his bed.

  Now, we were facing each other and we both knew what the other was thinking about. Neither one of us was going to say anything about it though.

  I gave him a gradual smile, trying to play it off. “Thanks for letting me sleep in here with you.”

  He did something that looked like a shrug, but since his arms were still up past his head, I couldn’t be sure. “You don’t take up any room.” He yawned again. “You don’t snore. You didn’t bother me.”

  I’m not sure what it said about me that I felt clearheaded and way too well rested. Mostly though, I felt antsy like a little kid.

  “Do you want your present now? Or later?” I asked, knowing that I damn well wanted to give him his present now. I was so giddy, and the reality that I was probably more excited than he was going to be was a real predicament, but…

  Who cared? If he didn’t want it, I would keep it. I’d love the hell out of the eight-week-old puppy downstairs if he didn’t. It was a golden retriever because I knew he was going to need to be the sweetest thing in the universe to put up with Aiden’s bullshit.

  “Later is fine,” he said like a true adult instead of like a little kid eager to open his presents on Christmas morning.

  For a split second, I felt totally disappointed. But only for a split second before I made a decision. “Too bad. Don’t leave the room. I’ll be back in a second.”

  I hopped out of bed and practically ran toward the laundry room downstairs. I fished the little yellow guy out of his crate and cursed when I realized he’d pooped and laid on it. Actually, it looked like he’d rolled around in it. “Damn it.”

  I gave him a kiss on the head anyway and then ran up the stairs to give him a bath, only stopping by my room to pick up the bow I’d bought for him that had been sitting in my nightstand drawer for the last week since I’d put down a deposit on him. I couldn’t give Aiden a poopy puppy, could I?

  Just as I made it to the bathroom, I yelled, “Give me fifteen minutes, big guy!”

  Rolling up my sleeves, I gave the little guy a few more kisses on his soft head and waited for the water to warm up enough. The second it was ready, I grabbed the bottle of honey almond puppy shampoo and began lathering him up. Considering I hadn’t given a dog a bath ever, it was a lot harder than it seemed. He had too much energy. He peed inside the tub. He kept jumping up on the edge, trying to get out, or get on me, I couldn’t be sure.

  The soap went everywhere; I could feel it on my face. My top was soaked, and it was still one of the happiest moments of my life. That face just killed me a little.

  Why hadn’t I gotten a dog before? For me?

  “What are you doing?” the voice asked from behind me.

  I froze there with my arms in the bathtub; one was busy holding the puppy who had his paws on the edge while his head peeked over the rim and the other was on the tap in the middle of turning it off. Looking over my shoulder, I frowned over at him, grabbing the towel I’d left on top of the toilet seat.

  “I told you to wait in your room,” I muttered, only slightly disappointed he’d ruined the surprise in a way. I only had to look at those expressive big, brown eyes on that beautiful puppy face to get over it.

  I was in love.

  And a huge part of me didn’t want to give the puppy over, but I knew I had to.

  “What is that?” Aiden’s grumbling voice grew just the slightest hint louder, curious, so curious.

  Wrapping the towel around the wet, almost scraggly looking ball of innocence, I pulled him to me as I got to my feet and snuggled him one last time before glancing up at the man standing the in the doorway. Aiden’s eyes were wider than I’d ever seen and might ever see them. Down at his sides, his fingers twitched. Those dark orbs went from the bundle against my chest to my face and back again. Pink rose up on the tips of his ears and he asked once more, “What is that?”

  I thrust the little guy forward. “Merry Christmas, big guy.”

  The man known as The Wall of Winnipeg took the towel-wrapped bundle from me and simply stared at it.

  Should I have gotten him something else? There were a couple other small presents I bought him, but this was the big one. The one I’d been shaking in excitement over.

  “If you hate him…”

  The dog let out a sharp playful bark that sliced through the air. I got to watch as four emotions flash across Aiden’s features. Confusion, recognition, surprise, and elation.

  He brought the baby up to his face.


  Aiden stared at the retriever for so long, I started to think I’d imagined the elation that had been on his face a moment before. But I knew he liked animals, and he’d mentioned once in an interview how much he wanted a dog but wanted to wait until he had more time to be a good owner.

  But the longer I waited, watching, not sure what to expect, the more surprised I was when he tucked the soft yellow buddy under his chin and moved his arm to cradle it to his chest like a baby.

  Ah hell. I hadn’t been prepared. My body wasn’t ready for Aiden holding a puppy like a baby.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “Vanessa…” he kind of choked out, making the situation worse for me.

  “Merry Christmas,” I repeated hoarsely, torn between smiling and crying.

  He blinked, and then he blinked some more as his free hand touched the small, perfect features on the young, innocent face. “I don’t know what to say,” he kind of mumbled, his eyes glued to his puppy. His chin tipped down, and I swear he cuddled the dog closer to him. “I’ve never…” He swallowed and glanced up at me, our eyes meeting. “Thank you. Thank you.”

  Was I crying? Was I seriously crying?

  “You’re welcome.” I might have, kind of, smiled at the blurry vision of these two. “I know you said you don’t have time for relationships, but there’s no way you can’t make time for him. Look at him. I loved him the moment I saw him. I was almost about to play it off like I bought him for myself when you walked in.”

  He nodded quickly, too quickly for my heart to handle appropriately. “Yeah, you’re right. I can make time.” Aiden licked his lips and pierced me with a brief look that had me frozen in place once again. It was the single sweetest, most eye-opening expression I’d ever had anyone directed at me. “I’m starting to understand that you can always make time for the things that matter.”

  * * *

  Hours later, we were sitting on the floor in the living room with the new love of Aiden’s life, and I was thinking that this had turned out to be the best Christmas ever. We’d spent the day with the puppy, which surprised me. I guess a part of me had expected Aiden to take off with it and disappear so he could enjoy his new child alone, but that hadn’t been the case at all.

  As soon as he’d realized the puppy was still soaking wet, he’d looked at me and said, “What now?”

  For the next hour, we dried the unnamed puppy and took it out to pee while Aiden sprayed out his dirty kennel and I supervised. Then he set up the food bowls I’d brought along with some kibbles and water. What followed that was breakfast in the kitchen together with him running around, then taking it outside again after it peed in the kitchen. Aiden hadn’t even thought twice about wiping it up.

  Since then, I’d showered and gone downstairs to watch some television, and that’s where Aiden had found me after he’d apparently showered… with his little guy in his arms.

  It was seriously killing me. This gigantic guy carrying an eight pound dog around in his huge arms. God help us. I needed to find some puppies and pay some ripped up models to pose with them. I could make a killing if I put them on calendars.

  Or maybe it was just Aiden that I found so attractive holding a puppy that he was clearly enamored with.

  I wasn’t going to overanalyze it too much, I decided pretty quickly.

  With the gas fireplace going, the Christmas tree lights on, and everything just so peaceful, the day just felt right. I’d called my extended family—my brother, Diana, and my foster parents—after I’d showered to wish them a happy holiday.

  I stretched my legs out in front of me, keeping an eye on the blondie curled up on the floor right between my feet, when Aiden, who was sitting next to me, suddenly turned and said, “I still haven’t given you your presents.”

  I blinked. He what? I hadn’t been expecting anything, but I’d feel like an ass saying that out loud.

  “Oh.” I blinked again. “You got me something?”

  He narrowed his eyes a little, like he was thinking the same thing I had just been. “Yes.” Getting to his big feet a lot more effortlessly than someone that large should have been capable of, he tipped his head in the direction of the stairs. “Follow me.”

  Follow him I did, up the stairs, down the hall, and toward… his office.

  His office?

  Ahead of me, he pushed open the door and tilted his head for me to go forward.

  I hesitated at the doorway, watching him watch me as I did. Aiden’s hand reached in front of my face and flipped on the switch. Stacked on top of his big, hardwood desk were two presents carefully wrapped in peppermint striped paper. I didn’t have to ask to know that those big, careful hands had done the wrapping, not some stranger.

  That alone made my nose tickle.

  “Open the first one,” he instructed.

  I shot him a glance over my shoulder before walking inside the office and taking the gift off the top. Slowly, I undid the wrapping and peeled the slim box out. I knew what it was the instant I saw the name of the company. It was a brand new, top of the line tablet. It was the one most graphic designers would salivate over but never actually buy because you could talk yourself into spending less money on something almost as good, pretty easily.

  Holding it to my chest, I turned around to face him with my mouth wide open. “Aiden—”

  He held up his hand and rolled his eyes. “Thank me after you open the next one.”

  About ready to ignore him and give him a hug right then, I decided to be a good sport and open the next gift first since he’d asked so nicely. The next present was in a bigger box, like a fancy scarf case I’d seen my roommate in college collect things in. Just like the last present, I opened it up slowly and pulled out the perfectly cube-shaped box out.

  Peeling off the top, I couldn’t help but crack up at the pile of nightlights and flashlights inside. There were two small ones with keychains looped through the base of them, three different plug-ins: one shaped like Jupiter, another of a star, and the third was a plain column-shaped one that promised to be the best on the market. Apart from those were four flashlights in various sizes and colors; pink, red, teal, and black. I picked up the metallic pink one.

  “They reminded me of your hair colors.”

  Oh no. “Aiden—”

  “I know it isn’t much compared to what you gave me, but I thought it was good enough at first. I haven’t bought anyone a present in years—”

  “It is enough, dummy,” I said, looking at him over my shoulder, holding what was the most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given me.

  The big guy cleared his throat. “No. It isn’t. I owe you.”

  He owed me? “You don’t owe me anything. This is… this is perfect. More than perfect. Thank you.” Fucking nightlights. Who would have thought?

  Two big hands landed on my shoulders. “I owe you, Van. Trust me.” Just as quickly as they’d gotten on me, his hands retreated and he added, “This isn’t a present, but hold out your hand.”

  I did, cupping it high above my shoulder, curious as to what he was going to give me. Chewed up gum?

  Something cool and small fell into my palm. It was pretty heavy.

  When I lowered my hand, all the saliva in my mouth went just about everywhere else in my body.

  “It isn’t a gift. The jeweler called yesterday and said it was ready. I was going to give it to you, but...”

  At first, I honestly thought it was a rock. A big, light blue rock. But I must have been so confused I didn’t see the white gold band that lay against my hand. Then it hit me: it was a ring. Holding it up closer to my face, years of shopping at vintage thrift stores came back to me. An emerald cut, slightly bluish-green stone—aquamarine to be exact, my birthstone—was mounted to the thin band. On each side of the stone were three accent diamonds. Just below the plain white gold was a simple diamond encrusted band that fit around the bigger ring like a set, very subtle.

  It looked like one of those cocktail rings people in the 1950s wore…
except I could tell, my heart could freaking tell, this wasn’t some cheap knockoff from a catalogue.

  “I figured you needed an engagement ring. I didn’t think you’d like a diamond. This seemed more you.”

  “Shut up.” I gaped at the ring a second more, my breathing getting heavier.

  “No,” he snapped back. “If you don’t like it—”

  “Stop talking, Aiden. It’s the most amazing ring I’ve ever seen.” I held my hand up closer to my face and shook my head in a daze, looking up at his eyes with my heart on my tongue. “It’s for me?”

  “Who else would it be for? My other wife?” the annoying ass asked.

  He’d gotten me a ring.

  And it was—

  Damn it. Damn. It. I couldn’t love him. I couldn’t. I couldn’t, especially not because he’d chosen me something perfect. Something me.

  I tried to beat back the emotion just enough. “You could have just given me a band. I don’t care what everyone else thinks,” I kind of whispered as I slipped the wedding set onto the appropriate hand and finger.

  “I don’t care either, but I got it for you anyway.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  “I’m in love.”

  Watching Leo zoom from side to side across the tile floor, a vision of everything wonderful in the universe, I couldn’t help but agree with Zac. All three of us loved the little yellow ball of fur, and it had only been two full weeks. In that time, between Aiden and I, we’d potty trained the little turkey and set up a schedule. When the big guy was gone, I kept him with me and made sure to take him outside every couple of hours.

  Leo was brilliant, and I completely regretted giving him to Aiden instead of keeping him. Not that it really made much of a difference who he belonged to since he technically spent more time with me anyway with his daddy gone all the time. With the Three Hundreds moving through the post season, advancing through the wild card bracket, they were entering the divisional playoffs. Their game was the next day, and needless to say, the man who insisted on carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders was feeling every inch of stress.