“He’ll be fine,” I told her. “Money’s a bit of a sore spot, but he wants Foxy to be safe.”
“You can wait here till we have more information,” she said. “My receptionist should be in any minute and you should give her your phone number, and that guy’s.”
“Shane. Shane Webster.” I stared out at Shane, who’d begun pacing. “He’s as close as she has to a real owner right now.”
“Tell him she looks good at the moment. I can’t promise all the pups are fine, but I see no signs we’re going to lose the mom. Okay?”
“I’ll tell him.”
She nodded and hurried off down the hall.
I eased the front door open and went over to Shane. “Hey. Doing okay?”
“See?” He turned away. “Life’s like this. It shits on you whenever you’re almost getting ahead. Like when Mimsy got poisoned and I had to go back to tricking to pay for her care. I have twenty bucks in my pocket. I couldn’t even pay to walk Foxy in that door.”
“You don’t have to,” I said. “I’m covering it.”
“Yeah, you and your money, rescuing me. I don’twantto be rescued. I want to stand on my fucking feet like I have for nine years.”
I scrambled for the right thing to say. “I’m not rescuing you, I’m rescuing Foxy. And before you say it’s the same thing, it’s not. If that was Arthur’s dog Mouse or what’s her name, Chili, that Chihuahua of his, and he couldn’t pay for their care, I would. I’m giving him a seven-million-dollar building to rescue a whole bunch of pets and I don’t see you telling him to stand on his own feet and say no.”
“That’s different.”
“How? How is it different?”
Shane opened his mouth, closed it again.
“I know you don’t want my money, you don’t need my money.” I’d argue with that one, but Shane insisted, and I had to let him decide. “Foxy does. She can’t go out and busk or whatever. She’s Arthur’s responsibility, but I’m not going to let him go broke covering her.”
“He cried,” Shane muttered.
“Huh?”
“Arthur. When the guy brought her and Arthur knew he didn’t have room, he cried.”
“You see?” I wanted to hug Shane, but wasn’t sure he’d accept even that. “You saved Arthur by offering space and time to take care of Foxy, which you had. I’m offering money, which I have. Together, we’ll keep Arthur’s big, soft heart from breaking.”
“It isn’t actually my space.” But Shane looked less angry. “I guess. Yeah.” He straightened his shoulders.
“The vet said she thinks Foxy will be fine. She wants us to wait in the lobby for the receptionist.” I held out my hand without thinking, then didn’t want to pull it back.
Shane eyed me. “Is that what we are now? Holding-hands friends?”
“If you want.”
His lips curved in the faintest smile. “I never have. Okay.” He closed his hand over mine, his fingers long and strong and cool.
I’d never been into hand-holding either, but the connection felt right. I smiled back and tugged on his arm. “Come on. Let’s go see what’s up with our girl.”
We sat in the lobby alone for about ten minutes, or rather I sat, while Shane wandered around reading all the informational posters on the walls. Then an older woman hustled in. “Hi, I’m Christa. Dr. Louisa said you’re here with Foxy? Let’s get some info before the rush.”
I glanced at Shane but he waved me toward the desk, so I went over and made sure both our names and phone numbers were on Foxy’s chart and I was noted as the financially responsible person. “Do you need a deposit or anything?” I asked.
“Bless you, but no. Have a seat. We have bottled water if you want some?”
“Sure. Thanks.” I figured Shane had spent the last eight hours offering Foxy water but he’d probably forgotten to take care of himself.
When I held out the bottle, he widened his eyes, then took it and emptied half in one long pull. After recapping it, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and looked around. “How long do you think they’ll be?”
