The Worst Best Friend: A Small Town Romance

Where does that leave us?

“I’m sure glad you’re here,” Faye says. “For Thelma, my Weston, and my Hercules. You’re an absolute angel, Miss Rachel.”

Though I give her back a smile, I’m far from sure about that.

* * *

I’m even less sure the next morning when I climb out of bed and slip into the dark morning to take food to Hercules.

What I find stops me in my tracks.

I see him on his side. Not moving.

My heart leaps and I stumble over the fence, shouting his name, half afraid he’s dead.

He looks up groggily, like he’s trying to wake up but just can’t.

I cradle his massive head as it moves, only enough to look at me.

Oh my God.

Oh, no.

I have no idea what to do. I can barely breathe, but I manage to scream for West, hoping he’s awake and hears me, while rubbing Hercules.

“Come on, little dude, please. Show me you’re okay.”

The screen door bangs open. In a flash, Weston runs to my side, crouching beside me in the pen.

He’s a blurry mess from the tears in my eyes.

“He...he was just like this when I showed up. Barely moving,” I say, my words strangled.

Weston’s massive arm folds around me, pulling me next to him. “It’s all right. It’ll be fine. Looks like he’s breathing okay, I’m pretty sure. I’ll call the vet.”

I nod briskly. “Tell them to hurry!”

“I will.”

While he’s on the phone, I choke back sobs and keep petting Hercules, willing him to be okay as I promise him he’ll be back to stuffing his face in no time. I hope.

“Vet’s on his way,” West tells me as he kneels beside me again. “He’s only a couple miles away, so it won’t be long.”

We lock eyes and I fall into his arms, collapsing in his embrace.

I need him to be right.

I need this pig to live.

I need, more than anything, to prove that I’m not just one more bad thing short-circuiting in his hard life.

12

Don’t Pig Out (Weston)

Hercules has me scared shitless, and so does Shel.

She’s trembling from head to toe, bawling her eyes out softly but subtly.