I stopped short, looking between Jace and Ryla.
“Excuse me?”
“I’m puppy training him.”
“Ryla.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and softened my tone, lest she pull on that leash. “Please explain what’s going on. Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you made a leash out of your jump rope, looped it around Jace’s neck, and are making him act like a dog you named Kevin.”
“I know what we’re doing. We’re almost done with training. He only has to earn his gold star for stay and then we’re done.”
Ryla pointed to a makeshift poster behind her, which I hadn’t noticed until now.
Sit:
Fetch:
Speak:
Roll Over:
Stay
Well. Just . . . well.Thiswas an interesting turn of events. Biting my bottom lip, I turned my head slowly to find Jace watching me. He was still panting but had raised his eyebrows in the strangest resigned puppy/human expression ever, as if to say,Just go with it.
“Ok,” I squeaked out, fighting laughter. “I see you’re fine here.” I glanced at my watch without actually seeing the time. “Guess I should head inside for dinner. When you’re . . . done here, why don’t you come inside? Oh, and uh, Ryla? Is”—I coughed to cover my laugh—“Kevin, housebroken? Maybe he should stay outside and Jace can come in with you when you’re finished.”
“Wuf!” Jace/Kevin barked, eyes twinkling.
“Shh. Quiet, Kevin,” Ryla admonished.
I had to bite the inside of my cheek to stop from laughing, practically running into the house before erupting into belly laughter. As I walked through the house, my worries from the day melted away with my laughter. A light sensation took root in my chest as I bounced up the stairs, one that I hadn’t felt in a long time.
I found Max in the playroom after changing out of my work clothes. He was working on the red shoes of what looked like a one-foot-tall Lego statue of Boyfriend from Friday Night Funkin’, complete with blue hair and a red baseball hat.
“Look at that! It’s amazing!” I said, walking toward him, giving him a hug before I sat across from him.
Max flashed me a smile. “Thanks.”
“I don’t remember you getting this set.”
“Jace found the instructions online from a mod and helped me find all the right pieces,” Max said as he continued assembling his Lego creation.
Did I know what a mod was? Why, yes, I did. I gave myself a quick mental high five that I still understood some of Max’s lingo thus far, knowing that in a few short years I’d probably have no idea what he was saying.
“I guess I’m not surprised we had all the pieces,” I teased. Max loved collecting things, most of the time just to collect them, but sometimes he’d also play with them.
“Jace even played some Friday Night Funkin’ and was sooo bad,” Max giggled.
“It sounds like you had fun.”
Max’s eyes flitted up to me, then back down, his cheeks still upturned with a smile.
“How did your journal entry go today?” I asked, still admiring his Lego work.
A guilty expression crossed his face. “I didn’t do it, yet.”
A flash of panic went through me, thinking that he could relapse if we didn’t follow his therapist’s instructions perfectly. But the typical bone deep, heavy feeling I’d carried with me on the daily wasn’t there to drag me further into panic mode, giving me the mental energy to pause and think before responding.
I placed my hand over Max’s. “‘Yet’ is a great word. And feelings are hard to think about, right? It’s tougher still to put your feelings into words. Tell you what. We can do the exercises together, tonight. I’m so glad you had a good day.”
