Lark (First & Forever 5)

Diane shook her head. “I loved my brother-in-law, but the man wasn’t perfect, no matter what Dylan says or how high a pedestal he’s built for him. You need to know that. Please don’t feel you have to live up to some sort of impossible standard, because you’re already good enough. In fact, you’re great for my brother, Lark.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because he’s happy. For the first time in years, my brother’s finally starting to seem like his old self again, and I know that’s because of you.”

I perked up a bit and said, “Well, that’s something anyway.”

“It’s everything. You’ve brought Dylan to life again, and he’s obviously crazy about you.”

“Do you really think so?”

“Don’t you see the way he looks at you?”

I asked, “How does he look at me?”

She grinned and told me, “The same way you look at him.”

A smile spread across my face as what she was saying sunk in. Then she climbed off the barstool and told me, “I’m glad we talked, because I had a feeling you needed to hear this stuff. Just hang in there with Dylan and be patient. I’m sure he’ll figure things out, sooner or later.”

“Thanks, Diane.” I really did feel a lot better.

“You’re welcome. Now, speaking of my brother, let’s go join my mom in her office so I can show you some hilarious pictures of him. One year when he was twelve or thirteen, he tried to dress as a knight for Halloween and made his own armor out of cardboard, including a rounded helmet. He was so tall and skinny that he ended up looking exactly like a giant dildo.” We were both chuckling as we left the kitchen.

Dylan and his dad ended up joining the rest of us after they got the tools packed up, and we all spent the next couple of hours laughing over old photos. I loved listening to their stories, not only because they were funny, but because I learned a lot about Dylan’s early years.

Around one, we said our goodbyes and drove back to San Francisco, because Dylan wanted to get started on the shelves. Once we reached the pink Victorian, he set up the table saw and a work station in the backyard, and I helped him move the lumber we’d bought from the garage to the patio.

I was no help with the measuring, cutting, or assembly of the shelves. Those were skills I just didn’t possess. I was perfectly capable of sanding though, so that was my job. I’d also be painting them once they were installed.

Because Dylan was incredibly meticulous and treated shelf building with the precision of a NASA scientist, it was a slow process. I sanded pieces as he finished them, cracked entirely too many jokes about polishing my wood, and ogled Dylan’s muscles in his form-fitting T-shirt, but there was still a lot of downtime.

After a while, I set aside the sanding block and brushed off my clothes as I announced, “I’m going to go make you something to drink. I’m not sure what that’ll be yet because I don’t know what I’ll find in the kitchen, but I’ll be back soon.”

He muttered, “Sure, sounds good,” without looking up from the piece of wood he was measuring for easily the sixth time. He was definitely in the zone.

When I got inside, I searched the fridge and cabinets, but as usual I was lacking in the grocery department. For all my talk about wanting to get it together and show Dylan I was a strong, independent person, I really dropped the ball on stuff like this, a lot.

I pulled my phone from my pocket and placed a quick order from a nearby coffee house. Then, as I started to put together a grocery order on another app, Kel rushed into the kitchen and exclaimed, “Oh good, I was hoping you were home!”

His hair was currently a pretty shade of light blue, and it matched his T-shirt, which had a photo of his pet chinchillas on it.

“Hi, Kel. What’ve you been up to?”

“This.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket, unfolded it, and handed it to me.

It appeared to be a printout from a real estate agent, showing a cute white building with big windows on the ground floor. “What am I looking at, exactly?”

“My new business. Remember when you told me I just needed to live my life and make some plans, no matter what Hudson was doing?”

“Yeah, I remember saying something like that.”

“Well, I took your advice. I’m buying an existing doggie daycare and taking over the lease for the ground floor of that building. I spent the last week pulling it all together, and I just signed the paperwork.”

“That’s huge,” I said. “And you’re doing this all on your own?”

“Actually, no. There was another guy looking at the space at the same time when I went to see it last weekend. His name’s Noah and he’s a veterinary technician. Neither of us could comfortably afford the down-payment and the first few months of operating costs on our own, so we decided to pool our resources and be business partners.”

“Wait, you’re going into business with someone you just met?”