Panzer is sleeping behind the desk in front while Gloria and I clean cages and top off water bowls in preparation for closing. It's been a long, hard, rewarding day. I got the house almost done and then spent the evening at the shelter working on training Roger to behave. A couple came in and spent some timewith him but decided he would be too much work to train. It was heartbreaking—Roger was excited when they played with him and got depressed when they left without him. So I figure I can teach him some basic commands, and maybe the next couple will take him home.
I keep an ear out for the door chime, that pesky feeling of hope percolating my gut—I want Noelle to show up again.
Seven-thirty arrives, and I've taught Roger to sit and stay and to lay down and stay. Tomorrow we'll work oncomeandheel.
We make sure all the cages are latched securely, all the doors are locked, and the lights are off, and then Panzer and I walk Gloria to her car.
No Noelle. Disappointment is a sour weight in my belly, which is stupid. She has better things to do than hang out at an animal shelter with me.
We walk home, Panzer and I. Once home, I pour him a big bowl of kibble and nuke a can of chili for myself. Leave my front door open for the warm late spring air, and listen to birds sing their evening songs.
Headlights rake across the parking lot, slant toward the building, and then stop and shut off. A door opens and closes. Feet stomp on the metal steps. Panzer is lying halfway out the door, big body across the threshold, nose sniffing the air. A low growl rattles his chest and the walls, and then his head lifts and his long tail starts flipping and tapping.
Noelle appears at the top of the landing. "Hey, Panzer. How ya doing, buddy?" she says in a high-pitched sing-song. She crouches in front of him, letting him sniff her as his tail picks up speed, now whipping side to side like a scythe. "You're a handsome boy, yes you are."
He licks her face, playfully nudging her hand aside when she tries to stop him from licking her right in the mouth.
"Okay, okay," she laughs.
"Say halt," I tell her.
"Panzer, halt," Noelle says, her voice firm but still shaking with laughter. Panzer stops licking immediately, pulling his head back to look at her; she ruffles his ears. "Good boy."
His tail thumps, and he watches her as she rises to her feet in the doorway. "Can I come in?"
"Yeah, 'course."
She's wearing a pale green dress that ends just above her knees, the neckline scooping low to show a dick-hardening expanse of generous, creamy cleavage. The sleeves are short, capping at mid-bicep. Her long, strong legs are smooth and soft-looking, and her hair is twisted in a braid hanging over her right shoulder, the tip dangling just above the swell of her breast. A worn, tan leather purse hangs from her shoulder.
Her eyes are sad and red-rimmed.
I shoot to my feet and move toward her, reaching for her hand. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing, I just…" she shakes her head and sighs. "I'm just a little disappointed, is all."
"Come. Sit. Tell me about it." I pull her by the hand to my couch—a ratty, threadbare thing older than me with old, sagging springs. "Couch is a piece of shit, sorry."
Noelle sets her purse on the coffee table, a low thing of splintery oak and foggy, ring-stained glass. "It's stupid."
I lower my bulk onto the couch well to one side, giving her plenty of space to sit as close to or far from me as she wants. She plops down right beside me and kicks off her flat black leather shoes to reveal bare toes, the nails painted a muted mint green almost the same shade as her dress. Her dress settles across her thighs, pooling at her core in a tempting triangle. She leans her head back and closes her eyes.
"Sorry to show up like this," she mutters. "I just got some bad news and don't want to be alone."
"Welcome anytime," I tell her. "Was hoping I'd see you."
She sighs again, heavily, rubbing her face with both hands. "I'm sure compared to what you've been through, my silly little problems are pathetic."
I pat her knee. "Panzer—komm."
He unfolds to his feet, shakes himself, and then ambles over to Noelle, resting his heavy head on her lap. Automatically, her fingers dig into his ears and rub, scratch, and knead; his eyes roll backward in his skull and he rumbles a happy sound in his chest, tail slinking side to side in sinuous waveforms.
"He really is a sweetheart," she says.
"Yep." I stretch my arm along the back of the couch behind her head, not exactly around her shoulders, but almost. "Tell me about it."
"I expected it, but it still sucks," she says. "I saw a space a few days ago. It was way out of my budget, but it was…it was justperfect. I ran the numbers like fifty times, but no matter which way I looked at it, it was out of my range. And then today Kelly called and told me it's gone. I shouldn't be upset about it, you know? I mean, I knew I couldn't afford it, but Iwantedit. I wanted itsobad, Bear."
"Space for what?" I ask.
