The Wall of Winnipeg and Me

All I could do was nod at him, get up to my knees, and lean over so I could wrap my arms around his neck and tell him in as soothing of a voice as I could get together, “I know, big guy. I know,” even as another round of tears came out of my eyes and possibly some snot out of my nose.

The miraculous part was that he let me. Aiden sat there and let me hug him, let me put my cheek over the top of his head and let him know it was okay. Maybe it happened because we’d just been talking about the faulty relationships we had with our families or maybe it was because a child losing its mother was just about the saddest thing in the world, especially when it was an innocent animal, I don’t know. But it was sad as shit.

He sniffed—on any other person smaller than him it would have been considered a sniffle—and I squeezed my arms around him a little tighter before going back to my side of the bed where we finished watching the movie. Then he turned to look at me with those endless brown eyes. “Stay here tonight,” he’d murmured, and that was that.

Had I wanted to go to my room? Not when I was lying in the most comfortable bed I’d ever slept on, snuggled under warm sheets. What was I going to do? Play hard to get? I wasn’t that dumb. So I stayed, and Aiden eventually turned off the lights save for the one in the en suite, and we finally shared a brief “good night.”

If I didn’t know Aiden any better, I would have figured he’d been embarrassed to have gotten so sad over a cartoon, but I knew him. He didn’t get shy.

But he hadn’t said a word about needing a moment or asking me to get out of his bed.

Now, we were facing each other and we both knew what the other was thinking about. Neither one of us was going to say anything about it though.

I gave him a gradual smile, trying to play it off. “Thanks for letting me sleep in here with you.”

He did something that looked like a shrug, but since his arms were still up past his head, I couldn’t be sure. “You don’t take up any room.” He yawned again. “You don’t snore. You didn’t bother me.”

I’m not sure what it said about me that I felt clearheaded and way too well rested. Mostly though, I felt antsy like a little kid.

“Do you want your present now? Or later?” I asked, knowing that I damn well wanted to give him his present now. I was so giddy, and the reality that I was probably more excited than he was going to be was a real predicament, but…

Who cared? If he didn’t want it, I would keep it. I’d love the hell out of the eight-week-old puppy downstairs if he didn’t. It was a golden retriever because I knew he was going to need to be the sweetest thing in the universe to put up with Aiden’s bullshit.

“Later is fine,” he said like a true adult instead of like a little kid eager to open his presents on Christmas morning.

For a split second, I felt totally disappointed. But only for a split second before I made a decision. “Too bad. Don’t leave the room. I’ll be back in a second.”

I hopped out of bed and practically ran toward the laundry room downstairs. I fished the little yellow guy out of his crate and cursed when I realized he’d pooped and laid on it. Actually, it looked like he’d rolled around in it. “Damn it.”

I gave him a kiss on the head anyway and then ran up the stairs to give him a bath, only stopping by my room to pick up the bow I’d bought for him that had been sitting in my nightstand drawer for the last week since I’d put down a deposit on him. I couldn’t give Aiden a poopy puppy, could I?

Just as I made it to the bathroom, I yelled, “Give me fifteen minutes, big guy!”

Rolling up my sleeves, I gave the little guy a few more kisses on his soft head and waited for the water to warm up enough. The second it was ready, I grabbed the bottle of honey almond puppy shampoo and began lathering him up. Considering I hadn’t given a dog a bath ever, it was a lot harder than it seemed. He had too much energy. He peed inside the tub. He kept jumping up on the edge, trying to get out, or get on me, I couldn’t be sure.

The soap went everywhere; I could feel it on my face. My top was soaked, and it was still one of the happiest moments of my life. That face just killed me a little.

Why hadn’t I gotten a dog before? For me?

“What are you doing?” the voice asked from behind me.

I froze there with my arms in the bathtub; one was busy holding the puppy who had his paws on the edge while his head peeked over the rim and the other was on the tap in the middle of turning it off. Looking over my shoulder, I frowned over at him, grabbing the towel I’d left on top of the toilet seat.

“I told you to wait in your room,” I muttered, only slightly disappointed he’d ruined the surprise in a way. I only had to look at those expressive big, brown eyes on that beautiful puppy face to get over it.

I was in love.

And a huge part of me didn’t want to give the puppy over, but I knew I had to.

“What is that?” Aiden’s grumbling voice grew just the slightest hint louder, curious, so curious.

Wrapping the towel around the wet, almost scraggly looking ball of innocence, I pulled him to me as I got to my feet and snuggled him one last time before glancing up at the man standing the in the doorway. Aiden’s eyes were wider than I’d ever seen and might ever see them. Down at his sides, his fingers twitched. Those dark orbs went from the bundle against my chest to my face and back again. Pink rose up on the tips of his ears and he asked once more, “What is that?”