But now at thirty, I was still out and bi and proud, and Gaynor Beach looked like a good place for that. Especially with kind, welcoming queer men like Colin and James around. And Arthur. Who’s looking way too good, even pale and sweaty and, oops, swaying. I grabbed his elbow, steadied him, then let go.
Arthur stared at the floor as he mumbled, “Don’t call Colin.”
“Great. So you rest in the lounge while I do evening feedings. Yell loud if you start feeling worse. We’ll figure out what stuff you need, and then we’ll determine the logistics of moving your menagerie.” I followed him as he hobbled to the staff lounge then hovered as he plopped into a padded chair.
He glared yet again, stretching his leg out stiffly, and grunted.
“Wow. And Colin told me you were a super friendly guy.” He also said shy and reticent. Better with animals than with people. Colin probably had no idea just how much he’d talked about Arthur.
Of course, that might’ve been because I was gently peppering the man with questions. Because as much as me being here was about helping the animals—and possibly drumming up business for myself—I was also here because this man had put himself between a gun and a kid yesterday. That…piqued my curiosity. Had he not been there, would I have found the courage to do it? I couldn’t answer that question. I certainly didn’t fear death the way many people did. I’d faced it down once. I’d come out the other side. But I also had a healthy dose of respect for mortality and I was no hero.
Arthur pursed his lips. “I’m sorry. This…isn’t me. I just want to take care of the animals. We have a couple of prospective foster parents to interview tomorrow. I need to be here for that.”
“So I can drive you over here in the morning and pick you up. I have four dogs tomorrow at the daycare but we can make the trip before they arrive. I don’t mind early mornings.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You didn’t ask—I offered. And I’m happy to do it. I’ll drop you off here, then give your dogs a good walk tomorrow morning. I might as well keep Eb, Twain, and Chili with me for the day so you don’t have to worry about them.”
“They’re my dogs.”
“Well, isn’t it convenient I run a doggie daycare? All four of my dogs tomorrow are well socialized and do great with other dogs. Now, if Maisie were coming, things might look a little different. But she’s not. If she does, we’ll adapt.”
“Maisie?”
“Mastiff with an attitude. She needs slow introductions to other dogs. I’ve got Hiro, Jett, George, and Poppy tomorrow.” I scratched my nose. “Poppy will run circles around everyone—she’s an eight-month-old goldendoodle. George is a bit more reticent. He’s a senior rat terrier who’s more comfortable with people. Hiro’s an overweight Japanese chin who stays with us during the day so his owner’s mother-in-law doesn’t feed him treats when she thinks no one’s looking. Jett is a young lab-pittie mix. He plays with Poppy and they get into all kinds of mischief.”
“That sounds like a handful.” He scratched his chin. “Eb and Twain get along with everyone. Chili…” He sighed.
“She likes me.” I grinned, feeling rather pleased. Even Colin had been surprised how quickly the chihuahua warmed up to me.
“That’s unusual.”
“I’m an unusual guy.” My grin only grew. “Right, now I’m going to do feedings.” I grabbed a pen and a piece of paper and passed them over. “You write down everything that you need from upstairs. My SUV can fit two crates, and I have a harness tether system in my back seat.” I looked him over.
He was still pale but the sweat on his forehead had dried. His eyes were still reddened but less glazed, and he seemed to be sitting up straight. And he was coherent. Hopefully that meant he wasn’t about to crash.
“Let me put my number in your phone,” I told him. “If you get dizzy or nauseous or, well, anything, call 9-1-1. And if you won’t, call me. I’ll be around the place.”
He wrestled his phone out of his pocket. “Cracked the corner of the screen.” But he held it out to me, and it still worked.
I entered myself under “Brooklyn,” skipped the selfie, and sent myself a text. “There. All set.” With a jaunty wave, I headed off toward the dog runs.
Two hours later, Arthur sat in the front of my SUV with Xandra in her carrier buckled into the back seat. Her food and litterbox were safely stowed along with all the other food and dog beds in the back footwell. Eb kept all their stuff company tethered to the harness system on the opposite side. Chili and Twain were secure in their crates in my cargo area.
I sighed. “I can’t believe we fit them all in.”
Arthur eyed his overnight bag at his feet.
“The suitcase with your other stuff is packed, and I’ll bring it home when I drop you off tomorrow. You’ve got enough for tonight. By this time tomorrow, you’ll have all your things, and you’ll be completely settled. Just you wait.”
He gave me what I could only call a deadpan look. “If you say so.”
“I do.” I put the SUV in reverse, pulled out of the parking spot, put the vehicle into drive, and headed to the street.
Arthur gazed out the side window. “If I forget to say this later, because my head is killing me…thank you.”
“You’re welcome. We’ll get through this, I promise.”
