Hey Sunshine

by Tia Giacalone

  Wait a minute. I spun around and realized I’d bumped into the handle of a rusty old wheelbarrow my dad had stashed in here sometime recently. I stood up to inspect it. It was dirty, but it would do the job.

  “C’mon guys,” I told the dogs. “Let’s get out of here.”

  The wheelbarrow nearly tipped a half dozen times while I tried to jog back to the ranch house. If I'd thought I was wet before, it was nothing compared to now, as I’d taken off my slicker to cover Duke so he wouldn’t get soaked on the trip back. Missy trotted at my heels, never trying to distance herself from us. I wasn’t sure how they’d gotten to the shed in the first place, but Missy certainly wasn’t leaving without Duke.

  I rounded the corner by the working paddock and ran straight into Fox. The wheelbarrow tipped dangerously again, but he grabbed it and righted it just in time.

  “Fox!” I cried. “I found Duke!”

  The look he gave me was a cross between furious and relieved, but I didn’t want to sit out in the rain and analyze it right then. He yanked his slicker off and draped it around my shoulders before he plucked Duke out of the wheelbarrow like he weighed nothing at all, whistled to Missy, and started to run back to the ranch house. We all sprinted up the porch steps and through the front door and I kicked it closed behind me.

  “Mama!” Annabelle jumped up and down in the hallway. The other two dogs stood on either side of her like sentries. “Duke!”

  “He’s hurt, Fox. I don’t know how badly,” I told him.

  Fox hurried into the dining room and laid Duke down in the middle of the table, Missy at his heels. He quickly unwrapped the slicker and started rubbing Duke’s fur gently, running his fingers over his legs and back, checking for injuries. When he got to the hip wound, Duke bared his teeth for a second but allowed Fox to explore the cut. I stood at Duke’s head with Annabelle next to me as we petted him softly and told him what a good boy he was.

  After a moment, Fox raised his head to look at me. The worried look on his face had faded to merely preoccupied. “His hip is sprained, but it’ll heal. The cut’s not too deep,” he said, and I sighed with relief. “He must’ve snagged it on a wire or a nail. Dogs aren’t likely to get tetanus, but he probably needs a shot just in case. If you have a first aid kit, I can fix him up for tonight and then tomorrow we can get him to a vet.”

  “Yes, I’ll get it.” I ran into the kitchen and pulled the big white box out from underneath the sink.

  “I’ll get mine too!” Annabelle said, hurrying over to her play kit. She came back to the table wearing her plastic stethoscope, a determined look on her little face.

  Fox fished out what he needed and started to work. I was afraid that Annabelle would be upset, seeing Duke bleeding and in pain, but she calmly stood back and watched with me as Fox clipped away Duke’s hair from the wound, cleaned it, and applied butterfly bandages. He finished the whole thing off with a big white dressing that he wrapped tightly around Duke’s leg.

  “Is Duke going to be okay?” she asked Fox as she followed him into the great room with Duke in his arms. Fox settled him into a dog bed by the fire and crouched down in front of Annabelle.

  “Yes,” he said. “Your mama found him just in time.”

  Annabelle nodded, satisfied. “I’ll sit right here next to him so he doesn’t get lonely.” She sat down on Duke’s uninjured side and rested her blond head against his dark fur. “Don’t worry, Duke,” I heard her whisper to him, and Duke’s tail thumped on the floor softly.

  Within minutes, Annabelle had the three dogs on the floor with her, her head still pillowed on Duke’s shoulder as she watched the movie Fox put on the large television. The dogs did their best impression of following along, and I smiled at the unlikely quartet. Maybe Annabelle would be a veterinarian someday.

  A shiver ran through me, and I looked over to Fox. We were both soaked to the bone. “I’ll find us some dry clothes,” I told him.

  He nodded, his eyes still on Annabelle and the dogs. “I’ll be right here.”

  I looked around for a second, confused. “Where’s Missy?”

  Fox scanned the room quickly. “She was under the table when I was examining Duke.”

  “Missy!” I called softly, not wanting to disturb Annabelle and the other dogs. “Missy?” I walked into the dining room and saw her curled up underneath the table like Fox had said. “Missy! What are you doing in here all by yourself?” When she didn’t move or lift her head, my heart jumped. “Missy?”

  I crouched down next to her and put a hand on her fur. Her body seemed cold, her breathing barely detectable. “Fox!” I called, trying to keep my voice calm so Annabelle wouldn’t notice.

  Fox was in the dining room within seconds, obviously not fooled by my faux-nonchalant voice. “What is it?”

  “Is she–?” I asked him when he knelt next to us. “She’s not responding.”

  Fox took Missy’s head in his big hands gently, first lifting an eyelid to look at her membranes and then sliding a finger into her mouth so he could see her gums. I saw the look on his face and bile rose in my throat. “What, Fox?”

  “I’m not sure,” he said shortly. Carefully, he rolled her over onto her back and I gasped when I saw a huge jagged cut on her stomach with the glistening of intestine just beyond. Blood stained the carpet where she was lying, and her head lolled to the side as Fox supported her.

  “No! She was fine!” I cried. “She ran with us all the way back!”

  “She wasn’t fine, Avery,” he said. “Dogs have a pack mentality, they keep up or get left behind. Missy either injured herself worse when she left the shed or she kept going on adrenaline until she got home.”

  “Can you help her? You can help her, right?”

  Fox put his ear to Missy’s chest for a moment and then sat back. “I’m sorry, Avery. She’s gone.”

  * * *

  I woke up the next morning when the sun filtered through the blinds in my parent’s great room, my head in Fox’s lap and his arm draped along my body, cradling my torso. My nerve endings were immediately aware of the exact placement of his skin on mine, even through our clothes. I slid my fingers up his arm experimentally, over the blond hairs on his forearm to where his sleeve bunched just below his elbow.

  His chest expanded quickly at my touch, and his hand flexed where it rested on my stomach. “Good morning,” he said in a low voice.

  I looked up into his eyes. “Good morning.”

  I tried to sit up, but his arm was heavy and he didn’t seem inclined to move it.

  “Don’t get up yet.” His hand slid over my stomach in a light caress. Giving in, I snuggled back down, but not before I glanced over at Annabelle on the other couch. She was sleeping in a nest of blankets, with Duke in his bed on the floor at her side. The other two dogs sprawled in front of the waning fire, luxuriating on the rug.

  This moment would’ve been nearly perfect if I didn’t have to pee. I glanced up at Fox again and saw that he was looking out the window. The sun continued to stream in from outside, hitting the back of the couch and bathing him in a soft light.

  “How does it look out there?” I asked.

  His dimple smiled down at me. “Messy, but fixable.”

  I nodded. “Good.” I couldn’t take any more bad news. Tears sprang to my eyes when I thought about Missy, and I let them roll down my cheeks for a moment before brushing them away.

  Last night, Fox put Missy in a wooden box lined with towels and placed her on the sun porch while I rolled up the rug that was stained with her blood. Fox offered to bury her in the morning, but I wanted my parents to have a chance to say goodbye first. Annabelle was preoccupied with being Duke’s caretaker and hadn’t noticed that Missy wasn’t around, but I’d have to tell her eventually.

  We sat in silence for another couple minutes while my bladder screamed but the rest of my body was too numb to listen. I watched as Fox’s arm rose and fell with my chest, mesmerized by the way his long fingers looked against the fabric of
my thermal shirt.

  “How did you know we were out there?” I asked finally. “Stuck, I mean?”

  Fox’s index finger drew lazy circles on the side of my ribcage. “Your dad called the diner, said he’d asked you to get the dogs.”

  I nodded. “He didn’t realize the storm would be this bad.”

  Whatever guilt I was feeling over Missy, my father’s would be ten times worse. He wasn’t an incredibly emotional man, but he loved those dogs like children.

  “I was listening to the radio in the kitchen, and they were reporting lightning strikes and downed lines across the county.” He looked down at me, the barest hint of anxiety clouding his face.

  “My dad must’ve been panicked,” I said slowly, watching his expression. And you? I wanted to ask. He came for us, so obviously Fox must’ve been worried too.

  “Listening to my gut has kept me alive so far.” His arm tightened around me so briefly, I wasn’t sure if I imagined it. “So I hung up the phone and got in the car.”

  Our eyes locked, and for the first time in the last ten minutes, I forgot all about my need for the bathroom. Slowly, Fox bent his head, bringing his face closer to mine. His thick blond hair fell forward, almost brushing my cheek as he leaned down. He was so close, I could count his individual eyelashes. A warm tingle radiated off every part of his body that was touching mine, sending waves of heat through me to my core.

  Sliding my arm out from underneath his, I reached up to cup the back of his neck and pull him to me as his hand slid up my side and rested just below my breast. My fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, trembling in anticipation.

  “Mama?”

  Fox sat back so quickly that I thought I imagined our almost-kiss. I craned my neck to the side and saw Annabelle sitting up on the couch with a big smile, her curls a disheveled mess.

  “Good morning, baby,” I croaked, and I blushed when I heard Fox’s soft chuckle. Well, I guess now is a good time to finally get up to pee.

  * * *

  “No, I’m serious,” I said into the phone. I was talking to Heather, catching her up on the events from the past twenty-four hours.

  “I can’t believe it. Well, I take that back. I can believe it,” Heather amended. “You were always too good for Chase, Avery.”

  “The part I’m most upset about is the fact that I didn’t even see it coming.” Because you were so distracted by Fox, I reminded myself. Any remaining guilty feelings I had about my crush were pretty much wiped away after Chase’s cheating revelation, so at least there was that.

  “And with that redhead? My cousin Jill’s best friend, you know the one with the son who plays the trombone? Anyhow, his trombone teacher said that girl dated her nephew last year and every time she came to the house, she never brought a single dish to share. Who does that? Didn’t anyone teach her manners?”

  I tried to follow Heather’s train of thought and ended up at a loss. “Maybe they really care about each other.”

  “Always wanting to believe the best about people, that’s my girl.”

  “To a fault, apparently. Whatever, it’s in the past now.”

  Heather laughed. “Mmmhmm… and the future is blond and bright.”

  “Heather,” I groaned, but I laughed too.

  “So Fox just showed up in the rain like a superhero and whisked you girls away from danger? Was he all wet and dripping? T-shirt sticking to his chest and stuff?”

  “Pretty much,” I said, remembering Fox in the storm.

  “And then he patched up Duke and saved the ranch?” I heard a blender go off in the background, which didn’t surprise me. Heather did her best baking when she was excited.

  “Well, that’s being slightly dramatic, but basically. I definitely couldn’t have done it all myself, especially when we– when Missy…” I trailed off.

  “I’m so sorry,” Heather said. “She was a great dog.”

  “I just hope she didn’t suffer too much,” I whispered.

  “Fox said no, right? That by the time her adrenaline wore off she was likely unconscious?”

  I cleared my throat and took a deep breath. “Right. Let’s change the subject.” I didn’t want to think about Missy anymore, or the look on my dad’s face when I had to tell him that she died.

  “Okay. I hope you thanked Fox appropriately for all of his help.” I could practically see the smirk on her face through the phone.

  I waited a beat. “I tried.”

  “What? Tell me everything!” Heather cried.

  “Not much to tell, unfortunately,” I admitted. “Annabelle woke up and interrupted us before anything happened.”

  “Dang it!” Pans clattered sharply in sympathy with her disappointment.

  “Tell me about it,” I sighed.

  “But there will be a next time, you think?” she asked hopefully.

  “Under less dire circumstances ideally, but yes. I definitely think there will be a next time.” Sooner than later, if I had my way. The anticipation was killing me.

  “I can’t wait!” Heather trilled.

  “You’ll be the first to know.”

  Chapter 15

  Bored. I was so bored. The diner was empty. Two hours into my lunch shift and I’d made a grand total of seven dollars in tips. The sugars were refilled, the silverware rolled, and I’d even scrubbed out a few dish tubs that didn’t need scrubbing. I was just contemplating wiping down all the menus for the second time when Fox walked in through the back entrance.

  The minute Billy saw Fox, he had his apron off and his keys in hand, heading toward the front door. “Bye, Avery! Thanks again, Fox.”

  Fox nodded to him as he tied the strings of his own fresh apron. “No problem.”

  I watched as Billy all but ran out the door and down the street. Because we’d both been borderline comatose less than five minutes ago, his sudden burst of energy was a little confusing.

  Fox caught my curious look and smiled, his dimple like my own personal homing beacon. “I guess he had somewhere important to go.”

  “I guess,” I said, feeling the gravitational pull I still hadn’t gotten used to whenever I was in his presence.

  “So now it’s just me and you.” He came closer, reaching past me for a coffee cup.

  “Just me and you,” I repeated, my eyes locked onto his. His arm brushed mine and he looked down, jolting me out of my trance. I cleared my throat awkwardly and watched him as he filled his cup.

  “It’s been slow, then?” he asked, not looking up from the coffee pot. His voice was a little uncertain, a little vulnerable, and I liked it. Ever since he admitted the other day that I affected him too, and showed me as much in the sunshine video, I was looking for signs that reinforced his statement.

  This was beyond the initial distraction he’d confessed to when we started working together, and more than the new hand-holding and occasional caress. Without the complication of my faux relationship with Chase, we were navigating real feelings that were happening in real time.

  “Yes, slow,” I confirmed in a soft voice. I took a deep breath while I gathered my thoughts. “Fox, I want to thank you for the other day, coming after me and Annabelle in the storm. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up,” I told him honestly.

  That was something that had been keeping me up at night for the past few days. I really didn’t know what I would’ve done without Fox that night. Sometimes I took my need for independence a little too far – I was so determined to prove I could handle anything that I put myself into situations that were beyond me. Of course, I'd had no way of knowing exactly what would happen, but I hadn’t even told anyone where I was going or why. If my dad hadn’t called the diner… well… things could’ve gone a lot differently.

  “I was prepared to turn around and go home if I got to the ranch and your car was there,” Fox said.

  I just stared at him, surprised. “Why?”

  He shrugged, still looking a little unsure. When he spoke again,
his voice was a slight blend of sarcasm and sadness. “The department therapists called it hero’s guilt. Trying to help people even if they don’t need it.” He paused. “To make up for the ones I couldn’t save.” He looked away, appearing startled and embarrassed by his admission.

  Those two sentences said more than what lay on the surface. I took a step closer, touched by his sudden vulnerability. “Do you agree with them?”

  He shrugged again. “Sometimes.”

  My heart ached for him just then, for all the things he never said, the internal turmoil he never shared. I hated that this was the first I was hearing of it. And then I thought of something else. “What about that day at the coffee hut?”

  “What do you mean?” His words were even, cautious.

  “You saw something over my shoulder… something that startled you. It happened again at the bar.”

  I could picture his face, uneasy as he’d stood there next to the coffee cart, more than just the backpack weighing him down, and then again the night he stared out the window at Lucky’s. Those looks stayed with me all these weeks. They were his biggest moments of uncertainty in all the time I’d known him, up until now.

  Fox shook his head. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

  I slid a finger up his arm softly. “I remember a lot.”

  He blew out a breath. “Sometimes things remind me of other people.”

  “Other people?”

  “Circumstances where I wished there was a different outcome.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a never-ending loop – what I could’ve done differently, what I would do next time. Something or someone will remind me, and then I’m back there.”

  Another couple sentences that spoke volumes in very few words. My heart skipped a slow beat. He looked lost, extremely uncomfortable, and not at all like Fox. “Oh.”

  He smiled a wisp of his usual half smile. “Old habits die hard and all of that.”

  “Fox, I’m sorry.” I wasn’t sure what to say, but an apology was a good place to start. I was definitely sorry – sorry he felt that way, sorry that I’d brought it up, and sorry that he couldn’t possibly be the only one to have a similar experience.