by Jeff Strand
Three kids. Wow. Charlie had never expected to love a dog, but the idea of having a girlfriend with three kids was almost inconceivable. He was really glad that she'd declined his offer for coffee. He smiled to himself, thinking that this had been a productive social outing after all.
They stayed for another hour, with Charlie successfully carrying his fifth of the conversational load. Gary was the first to excuse himself, and everybody else simultaneously agreed that it was time to head home.
"Did you enjoy yourself?" Alicia asked, as they walked out of the restaurant and headed for their vehicles.
"Yeah," said Charlie, surprised that he didn't have to lie.
"Join us next week?"
"I might."
She didn't give him a kiss or a hug or any of the things that Charlie would've originally considered the only possible benefit from going out with the group--just a friendly pat on the arm. And Charlie was fine with that.
* * *
He picked out three Frisbees: a light blue one, a dark blue one, and a glow-in-the-dark green one. That way he'd have extras if any of them got lost or Kutter chewed them up to the point where it impacted their aerodynamics. When he got home, he let Kutter out of the basement, put on his leash, and ran with him to the park, at least for the first couple of blocks, after which Charlie walked fast while Kutter tugged on his leash and stopped occasionally to smell things.
The glow-in-the-dark Frisbee didn't glow worth crap, but Kutter was still able to catch it. Charlie tried to keep track of how many times he threw the Frisbees, until he lost count around twenty-eight and decided that it didn't really matter. This time, Charlie was amused to find that Kutter ran out of energy before him, although to be fair, Kutter was doing the vast majority of the running.
* * *
As Charlie lay in bed, with Kutter asleep at his feet, he suddenly realized that he'd forgotten to worry about the police returning based on new evidence against him. Odds were, he'd gotten away with his impulse kill. Though he never planned to do anything even remotely that reckless again, it was kind of nice to know that even when he had a huge lapse in his better judgment, he could evade arrest.
He got a great night's sleep, and dreamt about working in a dog biscuit factory.
* * *
The next evening, it was finally time for their steak dinner celebration. Charlie dragged his rarely used grill out into his backyard, applied a generous helping of lighter fluid because he enjoyed the whoosh of the fireball, and tossed a match onto the pile of charcoal. When the coals were ready, he brought out two thick New York strip steaks and tossed them on the grill. He liked his steaks medium rare. In the cartoons, dogs always ate raw steaks, but Charlie didn't want to risk Kutter getting worms, so he cooked the dog's steak medium rare as well.
Kutter whined and twitched and licked his chops over and over as Charlie cut his steak into small pieces. "Chill out," Charlie told him. "I don't want you to choke."
The dog, clearly unconcerned with the potential choking hazard, let out an impatient bark.
Charlie set Kutter's bowl on the floor, watching as the dog proceeded to gobble the steak down so quickly that it might as well have been a bowl of Alpo, considering how little time the food spent in contact with Kutter's tongue. Charlie elected to savor his own meal in a much more leisurely manner, and also enjoyed a side dish of a fully loaded baked potato. Because he was in a really good mood, and it was a celebration dinner, Charlie gave Kutter the last third of his steak.
* * *
"Shake! Come on, buddy, shake! Shake hands!"
Kutter never resisted when he shook his paw manually, but Charlie could never get the dog to put up his paw on his own.
"Shake hands, Kutter! Shake!"
He took Kutter's paw and shook it again, to demonstrate what the dog was supposed to do. "Shake," he said, looking into the dog's eyes. "This is called shake."
He let go of Kutter's paw, but kept his hand out. "Shake, Kutter! Shake!"
Kutter preferred face licking over paw shaking as a means of greeting, but Charlie refused to give up. He didn't expect the dog to leap through flaming hoops (although that would be pretty cool) but sometime before the end of this year Kutter was going to learn how to shake!
"Shake, Kutter! Shake! Shake!"
Kutter lifted his paw. Charlie grabbed it and shook it. "Good dog! Good doggie!"
Next up: Rolling over.
* * *
Charlie found himself speaking to Mike, Gary, and Jessica about non-work-related matters. Only brief, trivial conversations about pets, television shows, and prior night's meals, yet he enjoyed the contact. The next Wednesday, he went along for drinks, even though Alicia couldn't go because of a prior engagement. They talked about their favorite movies, and Charlie made a list of things he needed to rent on DVD.
* * *
A month later, Alicia announced that she was engaged. Charlie wished her the best, and meant it. Then he joined his co-workers in speculating about whether or not the ridiculously short time frame between meeting the guy and agreeing to marry him was somehow related to an unexpected pregnancy.
When she brought him to their next gathering, Charlie decided that no, they were simply in love.
* * *
On a lark, Charlie entered Kutter in a small local dog show. They were eliminated in the first round, though at least Charlie was pretty sure that their scores were better than the bulldog that took a dump in front of the judges. They didn't get a trophy, but Charlie gave Kutter lots of treats.
* * *
"Hear me out before you say no," said Alicia. Charlie didn't like her wicked grin. There was no question that her intentions were evil.
"All right."
"I have a friend--"
"No."
"She just moved here a couple of weeks ago. If you don't count me, she doesn't have any friends outside of work. She's really nice. She likes dogs. I think you two would really hit it off."
Charlie thought about that for a moment. "You mean a blind date, right?"
"Yep."
"Uh-uh. No."
"You're not going to take pity on my poor friend? My poor lonely friend, who got really excited when I told her all about you?"
"Sorry."
Alicia lowered her voice to a whisper. "She's been unwillingly celibate for the past two years."
Charlie broke into a cold sweat and hoped that Alicia didn't notice. "I'm busy."
"I didn't say when."
"When?"
"It's open-ended. Anytime you two are able to make it work. And here's the best part, I thought that you could do a 'dog date,' where you take your dogs to the park together. She has a Yorkie. So Kutter can have a date, too. It'll be fun."
"Is her Yorkie mean?"
"Her Yorkie is just fine. Can I tell her you said yes?"
"I don't know."
"You need to say yes, because I'll harass you about this as much as I can without violating any HR policies."
By the official company rules, Charlie thought that the "unwillingly celibate" comment might have been a human resources violation already, but of course he wasn't going to report her. "Fine," he said.
"Cool! How about Saturday?"
"Afternoon or evening?"
"Do you already have plans for either?"
"No."
"Then let's go with Saturday afternoon. You'll love her. I promise!"
* * *
Despite the badgering from his hair stylist, Charlie still refused to add any highlights.
* * *
He had no idea what to wear. He wanted to dress to impress, but he also didn't want to look like an idiot running around the dog park in formal clothes.
"You're lucky," he told Kutter. "All you have to wear is fur."
Kutter woofed in agreement. Or disagreement. One of the two.
Charlie settled on jeans and his nicest red polo shirt, with an extra spritz of cologne.
* * *
She was seated on
a bench, waiting for him as he and Kutter arrived at the dog park. Unless it was some other curly-haired blonde with a Yorkie on her lap.
"Elizabeth...?" he asked.
"Hi, Charlie!" she said, standing up.
Charlie had hoped it was a case of mistaken identity. She was remarkably unattractive--overweight, bad complexion, and crooked teeth. Her hair was nice, and Charlie liked her yellow blouse, but she wasn't one-tenth as good-looking as Alicia.
Was that how Alicia saw him? Her ugly co-worker? She hadn't set up the blind date to be nice to him; she did it because there was nobody else who'd go out with her repulsive cow of a friend.
Okay, "repulsive cow" was too harsh.
And he had to be honest: he was not a handsome man. Not even if you graded on a curve. For all he knew, she was thinking the same thing, that Alicia must've picked her ugliest co-worker to set her up with on the date.
If nothing else, she looked a lot better than some of the junkies he cut up.
"Hi," he said. He gave a gentle tug on Kutter's leash. "This is Kutter."
"Nice to meet you, Kutter," said Elizabeth. "This is Cooper."
"After the singer?"
"Alice Cooper?"
"Yeah."
"No, but I like his music. Are you a fan?"
"Uh-huh." Charlie didn't listen to music very often, but School's Out was one of the few CD's he owned.
Charlie awkwardly shook her hand. A soft breeze was at her back, and he noticed that she smelled nice, sort of like cotton candy.
"So Alicia says that you rescued your dog...?"
"Yeah. Not from wolves or anything like that, but yeah."
Elizabeth giggled. Charlie smiled as well. The wolves line was kind of clever. He didn't usually ad-lib things like that.
"That's pretty cool of you. I got Cooper from an animal shelter. If my sister hadn't stopped me, I probably would've taken home six of them."
"That's a lot of Yorkies."
"Yeah."
They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Charlie frantically tried to think of something to ask. "Do you go by Beth?"
"Liz. Or the full Elizabeth. As long as you don't call me Lizzie, it's fine."
"I won't."
"Thanks."
"Do you want to see Kutter catch a Frisbee?"
"I'd love to."
With the pressure on, Charlie half-expected Kutter to develop performance anxiety and completely botch the Frisbee-catching game. Fortunately, with the exception of one miss that was Charlie's fault (a bad throw, but not a bad enough throw to be humiliating) Kutter caught them all.
"He's really good at that," Liz said.
"He was that good when I found him. Can Cooper catch?"
"Yeah, but not one of those Frisbees. They're bigger than she is!"
"What can she catch?"
"A bouncy ball. I have to do it at home, though. It won't work on the grass."
"I'd like to see that," Charlie said.
Had he accidentally made a suggestive comment? Charlie sure hoped not. He couldn't honestly say that he was attracted to her, but he still didn't want to screw the date up this early, if for no other reason than to have to face Alicia on Monday.
She smiled. "Maybe you will."
Okay, that had been a suggestive comment.
They spent another hour at the dog park. Though the conversation didn't always flow freely, they were able to fill the silences by watching the dogs play. Liz suggested that they get an early dinner, so they drove in separate cars to Charlie's favorite seafood restaurant. Never having brought a guest there before, Charlie suddenly became very concerned about the quality of the food--maybe he only liked the flounder because he didn't know what good flounder tasted like!--but decided that he really couldn't worry about it.
"Please don't destroy my car," Charlie told Kutter as they pulled into the restaurant's parking lot. "You have no idea how happy it will make me if I come back and you haven't wrecked anything. You went to the bathroom before we left and you haven't eaten anything that you should need to vomit, so there's no excuse. If you have to slobber, slobber, but don't chew up the seats. Okay?"
As Charlie ate his baked flounder and Liz ate her salmon Caesar salad, Charlie decided that the date had gone from "much less painful than he would have expected" to "absolutely fantastic." By the time they'd finished their crab cake appetizers her physical appearance didn't bother him at all. In fact, her smile and the way her eyes lit up when she spoke made her more appealing to look at than a lot of genuinely pretty women he knew. And she was easy to talk to. Almost as easy as Kutter, and the best part was that she talked back.
They had similar tastes in movies and television shows, both hated sports, had differing political views (Liz was a passionate Democrat, while Charlie had no interest in the subject whatsoever and had never voted in a single election), both read very few books, and neither had travelled extensively. Charlie wasn't thrilled with her choice of dessert, since bread pudding was among the nastiest concoctions ever devised by humankind, but he happily shared it with her.
She asked if he wanted to go back to her place to watch a movie, and he enthusiastically accepted her offer.
Aside from a drool mark on the steering wheel, Kutter hadn't harmed his vehicle.
Liz apologized for the condition of her apartment, which was only sparsely furnished and had boxes everywhere, but Charlie didn't mind. It was a nice little apartment, and he was glad that she hadn't asked to continue their date at his house. Kutter and Cooper chased each other around the apartment until finally both dogs fell asleep halfway through When Harry Met Sally. When the movie ended, Liz asked if he wanted her to put in another one. Charlie said sure. A moment later he realized that "sure" wasn't the answer she was looking for, but it was too late to change course now. She put in 9 1/2 Weeks.
About half an hour into the movie, she asked if he wanted to kiss her, and this time Charlie gave the right answer. Her lips were...perfect.
Half an hour after that, she asked if he wanted to move to the bedroom. He gave the right answer to that, too.
- 11 -
Charlie lay in bed, Liz asleep next to him, thinking that he'd never felt so content. He was pretty sure his performance hadn't been very good, but she'd seemed reasonably satisfied and she certainly hadn't complained. Charlie figured he had the benefit of her two-year dry spell working in his favor.
Just as he was about to fall asleep, Liz woke up and began to kiss his chest. "Are you still frisky?" she asked.
Charlie nodded.
"We should do it in a way that honors our doggies," she said, getting on her hands and knees.
Charlie spent all day Sunday at Liz's apartment. They watched a couple of movies and took the dogs for a couple of walks, but spent most of the time in bed. Charlie tried to imagine her strapped down to the table in his basement. It was a repellent image.
He left Sunday night with a kiss and a promise to see her again after work the next day.
* * *
Alicia walked over to his desk as soon as he sat down the next morning.
"You are such a slut," she whispered. Charlie felt his face turn red and his ears burn as she walked back around the corner, giggling.
* * *
"So do you think I have a girlfriend now?" Charlie asked Kutter, as he put on the dog's leash right after getting home. "I was only there one night, so I guess it counts as a one night stand, but I spent all day there, too. Don't you usually leave first thing in the morning if it's a one night stand?"
Kutter, as always, provided no useful feedback.
When Charlie went over to her apartment, Liz greeted him wearing nothing but a string bikini and some freshly applied chocolate on her nipples. Charlie decided that she was indeed his girlfriend.
* * *
March 24th. The night of the new hunt.
It used to be like Christmas six times a year. In the days prior to a hunt, he'd be so filled with excitement that he could barely control
himself. He'd spend hours sitting in his living room, opening and closing one of his pocketknives, fantasizing about where he'd cut first. Had to start with the extremities--fingers and toes. He didn't want a victim to bleed to death too soon.
Tonight...he just didn't feel like it.
He was enjoying work a lot more these days. Sure, he'd still quit if he won the lottery, received a surprise inheritance, or got a higher offer elsewhere, but the day went by much more quickly now that he interacted with his co-workers in a friendly manner. His relationship with Liz was going wonderfully. He was relatively certain that she considered him more of a "boy-toy" than a "soul mate," but Charlie had never been anybody's boy-toy before and he liked it.
He didn't need to hunt anymore.
Didn't need to kill anymore.
And so, on this particular March 24th, he was not going to roam the streets hunting for prey. He was going to put on the iPod he'd just bought last night, put on the "Walking Kutter" playlist, take his Boston terrier out for a nice long stroll, and then go out with his girlfriend.
"This is where I found you," said Charlie, as Kutter sniffed the bench. "If I hadn't taken you home, you would've been a dog Popsicle. Kutter the dog-flavored Popsicle. That's no way to end your life, buddy."
As usual, the park was empty. They really needed to promote this place better. Charlie unhooked Kutter's leash and played fetch with a rubber ball for about fifteen minutes. Then, on one throw, Kutter ran in the opposite direction, toward the street.
"Wrong way!" Charlie shouted. It wasn't a particularly busy street, but he could hear a car coming. "Kutter! Get back here!"
