I tried to tell the support group I drop in on once in a while post-sobriety sabotage about my troubles, and half the group just stared at me like I’m an alien, so I haven’t been to a meeting in a while. They’re important to go to, and they do help ground me, but it’s weird showing up when my life is so good and other people are fighting so hard for their sobriety. I feel a little guilty about that, like I should be suffering more, missing the high more intensely. I still miss it, even on good days, but it’s different now. I miss it, but I don’t want it. It’s kind of like being freed from shackles but remembering how they feel around your ankles.
“She’s harmless,” Alex says and urges me forward. I nod my head and keep moving, still slightly nervous about the dog at her side. “Well, not harmless, but she listens well.” Alex looks down at the dog and smiles fondly, then takes another sip of coffee. She lowers the mug and speaks in a firm voice, saying, “PJ, up.”
PJ stands up. I’ve never really seen her around the house when I’ve been there, which I never thought was weird until now. She’s still focusing on me like I’m a prime rib and she’s starving, but she isn’t making any attempt to move toward me.
“Not all pits are dangerous,” Alex says.
“I know that.” I’m defensive and I know it, but she’s being defensive, too. I don’t want her to think I have a thing against them, because I don’t. “It’s just . . . I know what she’s trained to do.”
“Ryan says I’ve ruined her. She’s still a kick-ass guard dog, but she’s more lover than fighter. Let me introduce you to her so she knows you’re a friend.”
I walk up on the deck and stop when Alex signals for me to. I’m about ten feet away from her and PJ now. I expect Alex to bend down and say something sweet and gentle in PJ’s ear, but she doesn’t.
“Sit.” PJ follows Alex’s order without fail and sits down. “Gentle greeting,” she says, and PJ stands up and walks to me at a slow pace. She stops right in front of me and sits down with her big eyes staring up at me. And I fucking melt. PJ leans in and bumps me with her head, her little butt wiggling like crazy underneath her. I bend down and pet her behind her ears. She barks happily, and I fall totally in love.
“Ryan told me you and Ian are getting a dog today,” she says. “How did you talk him into that?”
I shrug my shoulders but smile ruefully. “I just asked to go with him to pick up your dog. The man offered.”
“My brother’s got a squishy heart,” she says and grins at something over my shoulder. PJ abandons me and runs off. I turn around to see Ian standing at the edge of the deck. He bends to pet the dog and shakes his head at me and Alex.
“Hey there, birthday boy,” Alex says with a wave.
He just rolls his eyes and ignores her, a move that is so reminiscent of his mother that it’s almost eerie.
“Babe, puppies.” He turns around and stalks off toward Ruby’s Suburban.
I give Alex a wink and chase off after him. Once we’re on the highway and officially out of town, I send Alex a text asking her to make sure we have enough dog food for the new family members. It’s lame, but that’s the code we agreed on so she and Ruby would know when it was safe for them to go all out with decorating.
“You ditched me this morning,” I say, searching for something to talk about aside from what I really want to talk about. I’ve told him I love him a few times, but he’s never said it back, and even though he still kisses me all the time, he’s so detached it’s painful.
“Don’t do that thing,” he says, his eyes darting between me and the road.
“What thing?”
“That needy girlfriend thing.”
“So, I’m your girlfriend?” I’m an idiot. A seriously certifiable idiot. We’re adults, living together and getting a dog, and here I am getting caught up on labels. “Are we actually talking about our relationship?”
“Yeah, we got time. While we’re at it, let’s talk about that surprise birthday party Ma and Alex are getting ready.”
“Oh?” I say way too innocently. I mean, the jig is up, so it’s not like I’m blowing our cover or something. “Didn’t you say you don’t want a party? That’s what you told me at least.”
“Well, you’re committed to your story, I’ll give you that.”
I stay silent for a long time after that, not wanting to argue. The breeder is based on a plot of land in a tiny town a solid two hours away from home. It would ruin our entire day if we started fighting now.
We’re about halfway to our destination when Ian pulls the SUV off the highway and parks in the far corner of the parking lot at the quiet rest stop. There’s not another vehicle in the lot, and it looks like we’re alone. I keep silent and wait for him to say or do something. I’m not a patient woman, but I force myself not to break.
To my surprise, Ian unbuckles his seat belt, then leans over and unbuckles mine. His long arms slips into the space between my seat and the door. I go to ask him what he’s doing when the back of my seat falls back and he’s half on top of me. If he’d told me my silence would earn me this kind of action, I’d have tried this tactic a damn long time ago.