“Treats, ok?”
Dr. Jack smiled. “Treats are always ok. I have a new shipment of the greenie bones dogs’ love. You can pick them up at the front desk.”
“Thanks.” The lab tech led Old Yeller in. Nick noted his head hung a bit lower, almost as if he was beginning to give up. The blue and orange Mets bandanna around his neck had been cleaned and ironed so it looked fresh against his brown fur. “Come on, buddy. We’ll get you some goodies and go home.”
He purchased a bag of bones and headed his dog out the door.
***
“How did it go?”
Alexa was waiting for him at the door. She shifted back and forth on her bare feet, as Simba dodged in and out of her legs in a game he’d made up when he was a puppy and refused to abandon. As soon as Old Yeller entered, Simba let out a joyous howl and they bumped noses in greeting. Nick kissed her briefly and went into the kitchen. “They found a mass. Doctor is running tests to see if it’s cancer.”
“Oh, my God.” Alexa bit down on her lower lip, the lines of her face strained. “What if it’s cancer?”
“The doctor will look at different options. Let’s not panic yet. The tests come back in two days and then we’ll take it from there.”
His wife dropped to her knees and murmured the dog’s name. Like a rat entranced by the Pied Piper, Old Yeller trotted over to her and snuggled in. Nick still enjoyed the way they bonded together. When the shelter dog first came to them, he’d been haunted, starving, and vacant. Nick knew how he felt, and every day battled his own need to respond to his wife’s loving openness. But the joke was on them. Alexa was too much of a force to fight, so eventually they had both surrendered and never looked back.
The short tail thumped. Alexa murmured loving words, stroked his ears, until Simba got jealous and bum rushed her. She fell back in a tangle of licking fur, laughing. “Get off me, you maniac. Look, daddy has greenies.”
The dogs got off Alexa and sat perfectly positioned in front of him, awaiting their treat. “There you go, guys.” He placed the bone in each of their mouth’s and watched them race back to the living room to eat them in their favorite places. “Are you ready for lunch?”
“Sure. Unless you want me to just make something here.” She closed the distance and peered into his eyes. He tried to keep his face in a mask of calm, refusing to let her worry for both of them.
“No, let’s go to Umberto’s. We haven’t had a good Italian meal since we visited Gavin at La Mia Casa.”
Alexa stroked his cheek. “It’s going to be ok.”
He forced a smile. “I know.”
But the inner voice that had been quiet for so many years burst into vibrant life.
No, it won’t. It’s never going to be ok again...
***
“I’m worried about Nick.”
Maggie lifted her cup of cafe mocha to her lips and paused. “What’s up?”
“Old Yeller’s sick. We’re waiting on test results to see if it’s cancer.” Alexa pushed aside her croissant, too upset to even enjoy the buttery treat. Her best friend noticed the gesture and concern darkened her cat green eyes.
“He’s nuts about that dog. Who would’ve thought the man transformed from hating a fish to animal advocate? Can I do anything to help?”
Alexa nibbled her lip. Odd, she knew her husband to the core, and the darkness from his past. Both Maggie and Nick had suffered at the hands of two selfish parents who gave them no love and made their existence hellish. But they’d both grown and opened. Maggie was now happily married to her friend Michael, and Nick had changed from a cold, distant figure to a man filled with warmth and love. But lately, her husband was pulling way back, as if trying to protect himself from bad news in the only way he’d learned to cope when he was young. Foreboding washed over her in some crazy mystical surge. As if the worst was yet to come, and she’d need to watch over her husband carefully.
“Just be there for him, Mags. We both know how the past can sometimes come back and haunt you. Something’s going on with him, I can sense it.”
Maggie nodded. “I’ll call him later for a check in. Promise I’ll be here if we need to do an intervention. I’m hooked on that A&E series and know how to run one. And trust me, it’s hardcore.”
Alexa laughed. “Good to know.”
“And always remember the almighty secret weapon we all hold.”
“What’s that?”
Maggie rolled her eyes. “Dude, haven’t I taught you anything? Sex, of course.” The thought of their passionate encounter in front of the fire flashed in her vision. The stroke of his tongue, the nibble of teeth, the urging of his fingers toward orgasm, the release exploding through every muscle to her core, seeping with heat and that glorious melty caramel feeling he always coaxed from her body. “Aha, I can see by your face you got that part covered. Nice job.”
Alexa sighed and shook her head. “Stop being nosy or I’ll call Michael and get him to wreak a bit of revenge.”
Maggie glared, but shut up and drank her coffee.
Alexa hid a smile and reached for her croissant. Maybe just a few bites. Then definitely a salad for dinner.
***
Nick put down the phone, swiveled around in his chair, and gazed out the window. It was a beautiful day in the Hudson Valley. The gorgeous lines of the Beacon Bridge stretched out over the horizon, highlighting the kingly mountains and a sky that rivaled any Sinatra could sing about. Sun drenched rays covered the land and reflected on the water in a glitzy blast to the vision. A stark white sailboat drifted past on a lazy summer afternoon, a picture perfect scene of tranquility.
It was cancer.
Falling back on his sense of logic and order, he thought through his options. Dr. Jack wanted to operate immediately. If he got the entire tumor, recovery was a possibility. If the cancer had spread when he operated, it may be too late. The vet wanted Old Yeller in the office tomorrow morning. Putting him down wasn’t an option. The dog was strong in spirit, if not as much in body, and Nick knew he was a fighter. He figured he’d let the operation dictate what to do and make the decision then.
A jet ski roared past. The teenager hit a wave, spun out and tumbled into the water. A few moments later, he surfaced, laughing, and climbed back on for another round.
He remembered the dog he’d found when he was young. After hiding it in the mansion, caring for him and feeding it, his father had found out and taken him to the shelter to put him to sleep. Called him a lousy mutt, and not a real dog. The pain had been too intense to handle, so he’d pushed it way down and dealt. When Old Yeller came into his life, he hadn’t wanted to get attached, but he’d lost that battle too. And if he lost him?