Rescue (Emily and Mason) (9 page)

I hope it’s not a long time before Baby starts seeing a lot
of Emily. Tomorrow is just the beginning. I have plans, and it involves taking
Emily out on a real date. It won’t involve the camouflage of helping a man who
can’t clean. I remind myself there’re three more weeks before she’s legal.
Three weeks I have to wait innocently on the sidelines like a gentleman, and
then there’ll be more than just me vying for her attention. Taylor Warren will
surely be there too.

Emily

I’m not sure why I agreed to this. Maybe it’s because he
softened me with the knowledge that he adopted Baby, a troubled dog who needs a
stable environment. I much rather would have taken her home myself, but Mason
would have been my first choice if I had to choose someone. It doesn’t make
today any easier knowing that she’s not at the rescue center.

Mason doesn’t usually work on Sundays, but he comes to
volunteer anyway. I have a feeling it’s because I’m there, but maybe I’m just
being conceited. I’m never usually the conceited type.

The cat kennel is rather empty this Sunday. Only eleven
unlucky felines are  lined up in cages. I take the first one out of his prison,
clean up his litter box and let him run around the floor for some exercise with
a catnip toy. By the time I’m finished wiping down the interior of the cage
like every day, he’s lounging by one of the windows with his tail twitching
softly.

I didn’t name this one, and I haven’t seen him before, so I
glance at the nametag on the cage, Henderson. What an odd name for a cat, it
must have been the owners who named him. Me and Henderson sit by the window as
I brush his soft, long gray hair. I wonder if he’s looking out the window for
when his owner will come back. I imagine most of these poor cats constantly
believe that someone will be back for them, probably until the day that they
are adopted by someone else.

There were no such illusions for me when I was in that home
for children who are orphaned through violent ways. I knew that no one was
coming back for me. Not one spark of hope had been in my chest from the moment
I had stepped through those doors. My aunt, a woman in her forties, refused to
take me. My mother and she never really got along when they were children, and
from the way my mother spoke of the woman’s drugs addictions, I was probably
better off going to the orphanage anyway.

The two weeks I spent there was hell. There’s nothing like
putting all different sorts of children in one home and expecting them all to
get along. Just because there’s something in common amongst them all doesn’t
mean they will band together and help each other. I refused to speak for the
first week, lost in my own internal mourning. I spent the next week trying to
figure out what I was going to do with my life when I turned eighteen. That was
when Laura and Jim showed up.

They were like those beautiful rays of sunshine a person can
see poking through the rain clouds on a stormy day.

I stroke Henderson’s fur and put him back in the cage. I
don’t envy his hope because I know the truth. His proverbial parents aren’t
coming back for him, and he has kittens to compete with here. It will take him
weeks to be adopted if he’s one of the lucky ones. I really hope that his ray
of sunshine poking through the storm clouds comes in sometime this week to
rescue him from the constant torment of wondering why he was abandoned.

It’s not the nightmares or the fact that I’m a foster kid
that keeps me from dating. Being abandoned by the one person you love most in
the world leaves a scar, a very prominent one on the soul. It damages that
ability to trust someone wholeheartedly and unconditionally.

The next cat I have to get out is the one with a broken leg,
Butterscotch. He’s healing very nicely and gimps around on the floor as I clean
out his cage. He lets me brush him gently before I put him back in, getting
orange hair all over me. I’m taking a lint roller to my front when Jesse comes
bustling through the door with a wide smile on her face.

Usually when she sees me anymore, she scowls as if I peed in
her Cheerios every morning. I raise both my eyebrows at the cheery demeanor and
then I take her in. She’s not wearing her usual sweatpants and a t-shirt today.
She’s wearing a pair of tight jeans with a glittery belt and a fluttery shirt
that reveals all the right places and covers the others.

“Jesse, what are you wearing?” I blurt out, wondering why
she would come to work in this place with those types of clothes. To soften
what I just said I add a compliment, “I mean, it looks nice and all, I just
don’t think the dogs are going to be nice to that shirt,” she grins at me even
more. I didn’t know her smile could get any brighter.

“I’m not going to be working today. Taylor asked me out on a
date, and I just swung by to check on his prized cat before we go out.” There
are so many things going through my head at once at that statement. I get she’s
going out on a date with Taylor, but who is his prized cat? And what does that
mean?

“I’m sorry, cat?” I ask her, feeling a little on the uptake
today.

“Yeah, Butterscotch. He’s filled out the paperwork to take
that one home.” I make an ‘o’ with my mouth and wonder when Taylor got so
attached to cats. Jesse coos over the orange tabby as I busy myself with moving
on to the next cage. “You know, he’s wanted to ask you out on a date for a
while, but I guess he just finally came around.” I’m not totally sure what she
means by that, but I nod once and get out a six month old kitten that was
dropped off for being too feisty with the curtains.

“I guess so,” I finally say when I realize she’s waiting for
a response.

“I mean, it’s not like Taylor would be
really
interested
in someone like you anyway.” I pause in my brushing at the kitten notices,
turning around to rub at the handle of the brush. My cheeks flare a little as I
turn around to look at Jesse in the eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask her in a quiet voice,
my fingers tightening on the brush. My other fingers are still gently touching
the kitten’s back to keep it from jumping down.

“I mean, well, you know. You’re kind of aloof, and I don’t
think you’re the type of girl who wants to go out and have fun,” my cheeks
flush further. I’m aloof, and I don’t like to have fun? Does she think I’m
ninety or something?

“I like to have fun,” I mumble, turning my attention back to
the cat.

“What, like going over to a guy’s house to clean it? Jeez Em
are you that blind? Mason’s just using you for some free labor and then he’s
going to ditch you. Guys like that, well, are guys like that. They don’t get
involved in serious relationships.” Okay, at this point I’m scarlet in the face
and the kitten can finally sense my unease. I put it back into its cage and put
the brush down on the table, Jesse seems to understand she’s overstepped some
boundaries. Her eyes are wide when I turn around with my arms crossed over my
chest.

“First, don’t ever call me Em again,” my mother called me
that, I don’t ever want to hear it uttered from someone else’s mouth again.
“Second, I’m going over as a favor, and that’s it, I’m not dating Mason. We’re
friends. And third, even if I was, he wouldn’t be a ‘guy like that’, he would
be a gentleman.” I actually make the air quotes around the words, and just as
I’m about to tell her that she’s out of line for even coming here to brag about
her upcoming conquest with Taylor Warren, the man of the hour walks through the
door.

“Jesse, Emily,” he takes in the scene and finally realizes
that we’re in the middle of what is about to become a fight. I see one corner
of his lips quirk up in satisfaction and my heart stutters in my chest. He
planned
on this!

“Taylor, there you are! I was just looking for you,” Jesse lies
smoothly, draping one arm around Taylor’s waist and pecking his cheek. I want
to vomit all over the floor at her obvious monkey-like display of possession.
It’s not that I like Taylor Warren in that way at all, but the way they’re
behaving reminds me of Kindergarteners. I wonder if either one of them really
likes the other.

“You two have a fun date!” I tell them with enthusiasm,
picking out the next cat that needs grooming. For a few seconds,  they hang
around, and then when Jesse sees I’m not jealous, and Taylor looks annoyed that
his ploy didn’t work on me, they both leave.

Mason

“Come on Baby, it’s time to go get Emily!” I didn’t know
German shepherds could bounce, but ever since I brought her home she’s been
begging to go out and bouncing. My brother enjoys her company, but my father
was never really a big dog or cat person, so he’s not as enthusiastic that
she’ll be here for the next week while I get the house ready. He’s not
enthusiastic at all that I’ll be moving out and into that place.

As I’m nearing the front door, I see the sign taped to it
with the twenty hanging by a thumb tack on the wall. There’s a note that reads:
For Coffee For The New House
. I smile and pull off the twenty, search
around the kitchen for a pen and leave a
Thanks Dad
under the
handwritten note. Then I grab Baby’s leash, but don’t bother putting it on. She’s
like a hemorrhoid following me around all day. I don’t think she’ll be going
anywhere fast.

I glance at the clock on the stove and feel a pang of
nerves. Emily might not think of it as a first date and I certainly don’t, but
this will be the first time we’re seeing each other outside of the workplace. I
check for the hundredth time on my cellphone that there’s a diner about six
miles down the street from the house and check to make sure that I have my
wallet with my debit card in it.

Then I finally open up the door and lead Baby out to my
crazy car and open up the passenger side, back door for her. She gives me a
forlorn look, and I sigh. I explained this to her already. But I guess there’s
no explaining to a dog that it can’t get hair on the front seat.

“Emily’s sitting up there and I don’t want there to be hair
all over the seat, now get in the back, and I’ll buy you a cheeseburger,
alright?” There’s some grumbling and grumping from Baby, and a little from me,
but she finally gets into the car and settles down in the back.

I toss my keys in the air as I slide around the front of the
car and can’t help the grin on my face as I get in behind the steering wheel.
As soon as I turn on the car Slayer pours out of the speakers and Baby whines
along with the music, her muzzle rising in the ear and her ears flattening onto
her head. Yesterday I thought she hated the music with this awful racket, but
when I turned on something lighter and less ear piercing she had
really
whined. Her paws had gone over her ears, and her eyes had closed in a very
human-like gesture of ‘please God turn that off’!

The drive to the animal rescue center is quick and virtually
painless, except for the high pitch noise that Baby makes during a guitar solo.
I’m pretty sure that I look like an idiot with a howling dog in the  back of my
car, but only a person who loves animals would understand. I pull in next to
Emily’s little, red car and pull the keys out of the ignition. As soon as we
pulled into the drive Baby grew quiet, and she looks nervous.

Her quiet whine slices somewhere deep in my soul and I feel
angry at the person who left her here.

“I’m not going to leave you here. You can stay in the car.
I’ll be right back.” I watch her lay down in the back seat, panting nervously
before I get out of the Camaro. Just as I’m about to open up the front door to
the main building, Taylor and Jesse come around the corner with sour looks on
their faces.

Jesse is dressed for a date. That’s pretty obvious to me.
Taylor looks like he might be going out on a date as well, and my first guess
is that they are going together. But when I look at both of them closer and see
their body language, I can tell that neither one of them are happy about it.
Jesse gives me a sultry, glittery smile before she breezes past me and Taylor
narrows his eyes at me, taking in my clothes. I don’t look like I’m going to be
volunteering today.

“Mason,” Taylor says curtly, his green eyes boring into
mine.

“Taylor,” I say in greeting, quickly making my way past the
empty receptionist desk and turning the corner. I don’t want to be involved in
their drama today. In fact, I’m pretty sure that someone else was involved and
didn’t want to be either.

The cat room is empty, and all of them look sated and happy
with their fresh food and water, and clean litter boxes. The scent of cleaner
in the air just proves to me that she was in here already. I close the door
gently before I get the cats riled up and move down the hall to the small
animal kennel. The turtle is the only one left, and he looks clean. That leaves
the dog kennels.

Incessant barking draws my attention halfway down the hall,
and I pick up my pace. None of the dogs bark when Emily is around, they’re
always polite and well behaved. When I hear the nervous tone to the barking I start
jogging, opening up the door to the dog kennel and looking for blood.

“Get out!” Emily cries shoving my shocked mass out the door
and closing it in my face. I can see through the glass window yet and hold a
scream back when I see the large mastiff with drooling, snapping jaws head for
Emily.

Just as she turns around it backs down and grumbles in its
throat, then the nervous barking starts again. Emily holds out a fistful of
something and slowly opens each of her fingers, not making eye contact with the
dog. As soon as she looks away, the barking ceases. I want to open up the door
and drag her out of there. That dog has to weigh more than her!

But I know better than that.

I’m not the only one who’s heard the commotion, and when I
turn around at the sound of footsteps I see Taylor and Jesse coming down the
hall. They both don’t look sour anymore. They look genuinely worried. Taylor’s
mumbling under his breath as he gets closer and I catch a little of it.

“Not supposed to be getting that dog out, told her that this
morning,” but neither one of them make a move to open up the door.

All three of us watch in silence as Emily remains in one
spot with her hand outstretched and her eyes off to the side. I get that she’s
not trying to dominate the dog but get it to trust her. I can’t tell from here
whether or not it’s a male or female. I know from experience with Baby that
female dogs can be just as aggressive as males.