“Right, he got between us.” She sticks out her lower lip in that pout again. “I don’t think he approves of me.”
Not wanting to simply reassure her unthinkingly, I picture the ways that my dog interacts around different people, from strangers to acquaintances to family. “You know, I think it’s the opposite. I think he ignores the people he’s decided are safe for me.”
Her lips twist with skepticism. “Don’t try to make me feel better. I don’t need your dog to like me.”
“I mean it. He also ignores Colleen and Carlos.” I stop in the middle of the path between the fenced garden and the house, and Diane does too, turning to face me. Gomer ticks his gaze back and forth between us and then just lies down. “Since he was supposed to be an alert dog for an epileptic, his observational skills are top notch. He’s very good at picking up all kinds of things going on with me.”
Diane tips her head to the side. “Like what?”
This is veering into dangerous territory because I’m starting to wonder if Gomer has ended up working as a service dog after all. Not for an epileptic, but for a person with a mental disorder. It’s scary, but it hurts that she thinks Gomer’s judging her, the same way it hurt when my sister asked if I hate my family. It never occurred to me that by protecting myself, I was pushing them away.
I’m not quite ready to drop Carlos’ truck seat diagnosis on Diane, but I need her to understand this. Understand at least a tiny corner of me. “Gomer doesn’t just help me by carrying tools and finding keys. He’s like an emotional ice breaker. By approaching people before I can, he distracts them until he knows I’m comfortable. Mostly, that just looks like him being a friendly dog. Only once did he growl at someone, and I learned later that the guy was abusing his wife.”
“But he got between us at first,” she says, obviously still concerned about how the dog feels about her.
I squeeze her hand, hoping to reassure her, but also to calm myself. “Other than a brief hug, he’d never seen my hands all over someone before. I think it took him a minute to figure out that I liked it.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “So none of those southern tier farm girls got a taste of you?”
After taking a brief taste of her, I whisper, “I think you know that those girls don’t exist.”
She bumps hips with me, grinning briefly. Then, eyes on the dog as he trots ahead of us, she sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t get why he doesn’t even greet me.”
“He’s figured out that I don’t need him around you, so he checks out. I even found him playing with the sheep the other day.”
She looks down at him, her brow furrowed. “What would he do if I initiated contact?”
I shrug. “Let’s find out.”
After I call Gomer back, Diane squats down and holds out the back of her hand for him to sniff. After a nod from me, he bumps his nose under her hand, and she follows the prompt to stroke the top of his head. After she’s done that a few times, he rolls onto his back, tongue lolling, and barks.
Diane laughs as she rubs his chest. “He’s pretty good at asking for what he wants.”
“He could teach us all a few lessons, for sure.”
After a good rub down, Gomer flips back over and shakes himself before ambling toward the house again.
I help Diane up from the ground. “You believe me?”
“I don’t know much about dogs, but I guess it makes sense.”
My belly’s a little skittery from the sugar in the ice cream or from opening up my brain to Diane, or both, so I change the subject. “Hey, did you hear anything from the realtor today? About the orchard?”
“She hasn’t called me back. Not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.”
“Do you think you’d try to buy it if it becomes available again?” The orchard is about a half an hour south of Fork Lick, which is another half an hour south of Climax, where my new apartment is. But if she settled there, we could still see each other.
“I don’t know. All of my best childhood memories took place there.” Sticking her hands in the back pockets of her shorts and kicking at the dirt as she walks, she suddenly looks like a little kid. A lonely one. “Unlike the rest of my family, I hated living in the city.”
I basically know nothing about her past beyond the fact that she went to the same college as my sister. Except for the memories she shared in the orchard she’s never said anything about her family or where she grew up. To be fair, nearly all of our time together the past week has been naked and between the sheets. Or going head-to-head at trivia.
We’ve just barely scratched the surface, but I’ve never felt so close to anyone in my life.
I already asked for more, but she put me off. If I do it again, it might push her right out the door. And there’s this neurodivergent thing. What if she decides I’m more trouble than I’m worth, like every other woman has?
Thing is, without any good reason to, a tiny seed of hope has planted itself in my heart. One that says a diagnosis that leads to therapy could be a good thing, make me easier to live with or, at the very least, more comfortable in my own skin. And then there’s what I’m learning from Carlos. Maybe, just maybe, if I just listen, without making any of my own demands, I can find a way to get her to stick around.
CHAPTER 20DIANE
It’s ridiculous how much I miss Sam when he moves out, but it’s probably for the best. Not that I do what I really should and leave town, however. Telling myself that I have to stick around for one last chance to win trivia night with the Geezers, I spend two days running all over Fork Lick shooting background footage to cover the bases when I do the final edits.
Unfortunately, from the roadside stand selling locally made preserves to a tractor scaling a hill at sunrise, everything my camera records just makes me want to stay. Even Baabara stopping traffic when she escapes from her pen tugs at my heart.
Tuesday night, when I join the Geezers at their usual table and let them know Colleen won’t be joining us, Big John frowns. “Who’s going to answer all the pop music questions?”
“Yeah. And the Disney crap,” Little John adds.
I wince. “Sorry guys. I’ve got you on literature and history but—”
Just then the door opens, letting in a gust of cold air, as well as the man never far from my thoughts. “Don’t worry guys. I’ve got it.”
Rushing to meet him, it takes everything in me to keep my hands to myself. “Want to be on my team?”
Shucking his jacket, he tips his head to the side, grinning. “Do you want me for my pop culture knowledge or… did you miss me?”
“Both,” I say, unable to keep a silly grin off my face. “Colleen’s not here, so we need you.”
