Puppy Love Read online

  “Oh, fantastic, could you possibly give me his number?”

  “Absolutely.” He pulled out his phone, which, thankfully, was in his pajama pants pocket.

  Man, had we grown attached to our technology today or what? Not that I had any room to talk, because I too grabbed my phone from my pocket to take down the number.

  “Thank you so much,” I told him. “You have a great day.”

  “You too.” He nodded.

  Before I took Matthew in for an evaluation, I wanted to speak to the son. Maybe he could enlighten me on his condition. Although, honestly, I was a little skeptical of any son that let his dad live in this level of filth.

  Still, I was giving the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was unaware of how bad things had gotten, and when informed, would like to be of help.

  Before I made the call, I opened the door of my squad car and turned on the air conditioning for Matthew.

  “We’ll be leaving in just a minute,” I told him. “I’m just going to give my doctor friend a call and let him know we’re coming.”

  “Your doctor friend?” He furrowed his brow. It was clear he didn’t remember our conversation at all. “I thought you were taking me home.”

  “Right,” I told him. “In just a minute, I’ll take you home.”

  “And I can see Sherry?”

  Ouch. After just hearing the fate of his wife, that comment hit me like a ton of bricks. But I couldn’t let that emotion show on my face.

  “Yep. Then you can see your wife.”

  He smiled at this. I set Bailey on the passenger seat and put a few treats next to her as I shut the door to make the call.

  “Hello?” a voice answered.

  “Hello, is this Charlie Shaw?” I asked.

  “Yes…” he said hesitantly. “Who is this?”

  “Hi, Charlie. I’m Officer Bryant with the Woodshore Police Department. I’m calling about your father.”

  He sighed. “If this is another DUI situation, no, I’m not going to bail him out. He’s on his own this time. Please, tell him I said that. Tell him that when you don’t talk to your son for eight years, you forfeit the right to ask him for favors,” he answered in a biting tone.

  Well, I had just opened a whole can of family drama.

  “No, that’s not it, he hasn’t been arrested. He actually called us to report a burglary that pretty obviously didn’t happen. Clearly you haven’t spoken to your father in a long while and I understand things are complicated. So I hate to be the one to break the news to you, but I think your father’s mental health has deteriorated.”

  “Deteriorated how?” he asked, his tone completely changed.

  “He doesn’t seem to understand his situation. His house is in shambles and he seems to think you and your mother still live at home. He told me you were thirteen.” I left out the bits about believing he’d been microchipped; that seemed like an unnecessary piece of information that would only upset him more.

  “Oh God… I had no idea,” he muttered.

  “Again, I’m sorry to have to drop all of this on you right now. But it’s clear he is not in a position to care for himself. Is there any chance you would be interested in helping him? Deciding his course of care? I cannot leave him here, so my only option is to take him to the county hospital and have him evaluated.”

  “Well, I can’t take care of him right now,” he explained. “I actually live a few states away now. I can get a flight out there, but I won’t be able to get out there until tomorrow likely. So… If you take him to the hospital, can I meet him and the doctors there tomorrow?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll go ahead and give your contact information to the evaluating physician.”

  “Okay… Thank you,” he said and paused. “Was there a dog in the house?”

  Right, I had completely forgotten about Bailey.

  “There was, are you familiar with her?”

  “Yes, I am, I got her shortly before I moved away but I couldn’t take her with me… Is she okay?”

  “Well, she hasn’t been to the vet yet, but I’ve got her in my squad car eating. She is pretty dirty, but she’s also perky.”

  “And what will you do with her?” he asked nervously.

  “Well, protocol is that she gets a vet visit at animal control and then likely the pound, unless—”

  “Don’t do that!” he said before I could finish my sentence. “I want her. I can pick her up as soon as I get in.”

  “That’s not a problem,” I told him. “I’ll have the pound hold her for you.”

  “Okay,” he agreed. “Thank you, Officer… What was it again?”

  “Bryant,” I reminded him.

  “Officer Bryant, thank you for all your help.”

  “Absolutely. I hope you have a safe trip here.”

  “Thank you. Bye, then.”

  “Goodbye.”

  I hung up, slightly shaken from the conversation. It was always hard, having to break bad news to someone. I just tore this guy’s whole world apart. He now had to stop his life, fly to his hometown, and deal with a senile father he hadn’t spoken to in nearly a decade.

  But that was how it went. It was certainly not the worst call I’d had to make on the job.

  I hopped back in the car. Bailey had finished all her treats, so I threw her a few more and looked in the backseat to find Matthew still smiling. I dispatched in the situation before heading on my way to the county hospital.

  I already knew it was going to be a long fucking day.

  2

  Charlie

  I was in the middle of my latest book when I got the call that flipped my world upside down, at least for now.

  Well, I suppose if I was being honest, my world actually already had been flipped upside down earlier this week when my boyfriend of two years, Warren, dumped me.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t see it coming, I had. The relationship had been iffy for a while now. We seemed to argue about the simplest things. There was no more joy in our relationship. When we first started dating, he made me smile on a daily basis. Now… Now we didn’t even have anything to talk about.

  Still, even knowing that things were going downhill, I wasn’t prepared for him to leave. I still cared about him, and I was comfortable in our relationship. Being alone again wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.

  He moved out the day after he announced we were over. That was what really made things sting. Being in the same apartment where we used to spend all our time together… Yeah, that fucking hurt.

  I twirled my pen in between two of my fingers as I sighed. I was on a month-to-month lease and genuinely considering if it was time to move on from this place. But I was torn because I loved this apartment.

  It was fucking hard to find a decent apartment in San Francisco, and although this one was pricey, it was fantastic. It had beautiful, dark granite counter tops which I loved. All black appliances complemented the color. I painted the living room this gorgeous, pale mint green color. The entire room was in these pastel-neutral colors. I had really made it my own and it was big enough to entertain in. And then there was the master bathroom…

  But as much as I loved it, I just wasn’t sure if it was the right place for me anymore. As lovely as it was, it clearly made me extremely sad. Was that really worth an adorable apartment?

  Maybe it’d even be fun to redecorate a whole new apartment. A new place I’d forge for myself. It might be hard to find another place as big as this, but I didn’t do a lot of entertaining these days, anyway.

  The only friends we ever had over were Warren’s lately. He had a lot of them; he was a personal trainer and met a lot of guys at the gym. My line of the work, on the other hand, offered little to no socializing. I worked from home, so for the last two years, Warren and his friends made up most of the people I saw.

  I stood up from my mahogany desk, running my fingers over the grain of the wood before collapsing onto my memory foam bed, which engulfed me in seconds.

  It d
idn't used to be like this. I once had a life. I had my own friends, I went out, I spent the time I wasn’t working enjoying my life. I mean, that was why I started working from home to begin with. So I could actually control my time. And now I did nothing with it.

  I pulled the blanket covers up over my head. It was something I did frequently when I was upset. It was oddly comforting for some reason, being in the dark under the sheets. It gave me a sense of being hidden from the world.

  When I was upset, I had this little wish to be invisible. I just didn’t have any desire to deal with the world when I was upset. It’d be easier to melt into my sadness if I could exist in my own little world. And under the blankets was as close to invisible as I was going to get.

  I’m going to turn this around, I thought to myself determinedly. I would give myself a week or so to mope, and then I was going to make some changes. I was going to go back to the person I used to be. The person who did more than lie around the house and latch onto his boyfriend’s friends.

  I guessed that was just something that long term relationships did to you. They pushed you into a zone of comfort. If you weren’t careful, being comfortable with someone else could allow you to turn into the worst version of yourself. You stopped putting in effort and slowly things depreciated.

  I was going to be single for a while, that was for sure. I was going to focus on my work, my hobbies, and building up my social life again.

  The first thing had to be work, though. I grabbed my notebook from my desk along with my pen, determined to get in another thousand words on my latest book before lunch.

  I never got the chance though.

  About 500 words in, I heard my phone ringing on the desk. I reached out and grabbed it, admittedly a little irritated at the interruption. When I was on a roll, I hated my train of thought being interrupted.

  Normally I wouldn’t even have answered a call while I was writing, but this time, I couldn’t help myself. There was that thought in the back of my head that it might be Warren, and feelings of missing him washed over me.

  But it wasn’t Warren that popped up on my caller ID. It was a number I didn’t recognize. I almost ignored the phone, but for some reason, I felt compelled to answer. And it was a damn good thing I did.

  Actually, it was a bad thing. A really bad thing, but it was something I needed to hear.

  “Hello?” I answered

  “Hello, is this Charlie Shaw?” the voice on the other line asked.

  “Yes…” I answered nervously. Off the top of my head, I couldn’t think who would call me by my last name. “Who is this?”

  “Hi, Charlie. I’m Officer Bryant with the Woodshore Police Department. I’m calling about your father.”

  A sigh escaped me. This was the exact opposite of what I needed right now.

  I hadn’t had a very positive relationship with my father, not since I was a child. Well, to get technical, I hadn’t actually had any kind of relationship with him for the past eight years. But even in the last few years we lived together, he had been a mess.

  I couldn’t blame him completely. He had lost my mother, who meant everything to him. He loved nobody on this planet like he loved her. And she died so suddenly in a car accident that he just couldn’t cope.

  But knowing his world was falling apart did not stop me from being resentful. My world was going to shit, too. I loved my mother so dearly. And I felt like I lost both of them that day. More than anything, I needed a father. But he just dwindled into nothingness.

  “If this is another DUI situation, no, I’m not going to bail him out,” I began. “He’s on his own this time. Please, tell him I said that. Tell him that when you don’t talk to your son for eight years, you forfeit the right to ask him for favors,” I spat.

  “No, that’s not it. He hasn’t been arrested,” the cop answered calmly. “He actually called us to report a burglary that pretty obviously didn’t happen. Clearly you haven’t spoken to your father in a long while and I understand things are complicated. So I hate to be the one to break the news to you, but I think your father’s mental health has deteriorated.”

  Nervousness washed over me. “Deteriorated how?”

  He went on to tell me that my father had fallen into senility. And it sounded pretty extreme. He thought I lived with him? That I was only thirteen years old? That my mom was alive?

  His mind must have been a complete disaster if he forgot how much he hated me.

  For some reason, the cop mentioning me at thirteen years old thrusted a lot of old memories onto me. Back then, life was good. Back then, my dad was still proud of me. I had a flashback of what kind of person he used to be at that point. And he was a good father.

  Regardless of how our relationship had been lately, I was going to be there for him. I was going to care for him, the way he cared for me when I was little.

  My plan was to get a flight out as soon as I could. This officer would take my father to the hospital to be evaluated and I’d go see him the next day. I was almost ready to thank the officer and hang up when another thought crossed my mind.

  “Was there a dog in the house?” I asked suddenly.

  “There was,” he answered. “Are you familiar with her?”

  “Yes, I am, I got her shortly before I moved away but I couldn’t take her with me… Is she okay?” I asked worriedly.

  “Well, she hasn’t been to the vet yet but I’ve got her in my squad car eating. She is pretty dirty, but she’s also perky.”

  “And what will you do with her?” I questioned.

  “Well, protocol is that she gets a vet visit at animal control and then likely the pound, unless—”

  “Don’t do that!” I insisted. “I want her. I can pick her up as soon as I get in.”

  “That’s not a problem,” he told me. “I’ll have the pound hold her for you.”

  I thanked him before getting off the phone and opening my laptop to schedule the nearest flight out of SFO.

  Bailey was my one shining light in this disaster of a situation.

  I got her two years before I moved out of my father’s house. Well, kicked out was the more honest answer. We had quite the explosive argument when I told him I was gay for the first time.

  And I wasn’t just ‘unable to take Bailey’ as I had told the officer. The reality was that my father had demanded I get the fuck out of his house and refused to allow me to come back, even to get my things or Bailey.

  I never even thought to go to the police at the time. I was eighteen, confused, and devastated about the rejection from my father.

  I expected it, though. We lived in the South, where people hadn’t exactly come around to the idea of people being gay, especially not eight years ago. Even if I had thought of the police, I probably wouldn’t have turned to them. I would’ve been scared of being discriminated against, as I often heard about happening to people of the LGBT community.

  Instead, I turned to a gay friend I met online who lived in San Francisco. He was a few years older than me and insisted I could come live with him, that the community in SF was completely accepting of gay people.

  In hindsight, it really was a risky move, but at the time I didn’t care. I needed a way out, and I’d found one. Thankfully, he ended up being a genuinely nice guy who helped me get on my feet. In fact, he was even the one who turned me on to writing romance novels for a living, which completely changed my financial situation.

  It was still a hard situation for me, though. I struggled a lot before I got myself on my feet. And I missed that dog like crazy for a long time.

  My mother had always been allergic to dogs, so growing up, they weren’t an option. Of course, I got Bailey after she died and she helped me a lot in my mourning. I couldn’t rely on my father, but I did rely on Bailey. She would run to me every time I cried, jumping up onto my lap and wriggling her way into my arms. She was precious to me and I was so looking forward to seeing her again.

  Of course, this only barely took the edge off
the extreme stress of what I just learned about my father.

  I was conflicted. Obviously, things had not ended well in our relationship. But he was still my father and he sounded very, very sick. No matter what had gone on between us or the distance that separated us, he was my blood. I ached knowing something was seriously wrong with him.

  I looked around my apartment. One thing was sure, I was not going to be coming back here.

  Before I left, I was going to have to put in my thirty days notice to the apartment manager. I wasn’t going to be able to deal with my father’s issues from here in California. He needed me.

  This new tragedy really put my break up into perspective for me. It helped that by the end of my relationship with Warren, I was already feeling very distant from him. It just didn’t seem like that big of a deal anymore.

  Really, being with him currently would only have held me back in this situation. It would have caused more conflict, having to decide between moving back home and staying here with my boyfriend.

  But now, I was already considering moving. I was already dwelling far too much on the past as I sat stuck in this apartment. One thing was clear, this was going to force me to move on.

  Unfortunately, I was just moving from one negative life event to a more extreme one. But I had to focus on the positives of my awful situation. Which were few and far between.

  I’d get through this, though. I always did.

  3

  Noah

  After I took Matthew to the hospital and had him admitted, I drove myself and Bailey over to animal control for her own evaluation.

  I learned pretty quickly that Bailey did not appreciate being in a moving car. She whined every time the wheels so much as started rolling. I was only able to get her to relax by petting her gently as we drove.

  For a small dog, she was actually very likeable. Besides her gentle whines, she didn’t bark too much. She was winning me over.