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I Heart Boston Terriers
I Heart Boston Terriers Read online
Table of Contents
Blurb
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
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About the Author
By Rick R. Reed
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Copyright
I Heart Boston Terriers
By Rick R. Reed
When Aaron finds Mavis, an emaciated and shy Boston terrier, at a pet adoption fair, his heart goes out to her—completely.
When Christian, manning the adoption fair for the Humane Society that autumn Saturday, finds Aaron, his heart goes out to him—completely.
This is a story about embracing love, whether it’s for someone who walks on four legs or on two. Mavis’s journey back to wholeness and finding her forever home parallels the story of two men discovering each other at the perfect moment—a moment that defies logic, propriety, and common sense. But when did love ever follow a rational course?
To Lily, the Boston terrier who makes my life complete. You might not be able to read this, little girl, but you fill my heart every day.
Chapter 1
AARON’S SISTER’S cry interrupted his boredom as he waited for her to conclude her Saturday morning business at PetSmart. His ears perked up at the rising excitement in her voice. Becca, excited, always sounded a little like Minnie Mouse to him.
“Oh, just look at this one, Aaron! Isn’t she precious?” Becca bent down closer to the crate. “But she looks so scared. The poor little thing.”
Aaron squatted beside her to see what had caught her attention. The underweight Boston terrier inside the crate appeared to be cowering. The dog’s big eyes bulged out at them even more than was customary for the breed. When she realized they were looking at her, she pressed her thin little body hard against the metal of her cage, as if she wanted to disappear into it.
She was trembling.
There was something infinitely sad in her expression. Her eyes radiated terror. Aaron felt his heart give a tiny lurch. Something deep within him, his need to nurture, perhaps, ratcheted up several notches. He knew he needed to get away before he did something he wasn’t in a position to do.
When Becca placed her hand against the bars to give the dog a chance to sniff, she simply cowered even farther back, if that was possible. She seemed to want nothing to do with the human animal.
They both stood to give the dog her privacy and turned to face one another. Aaron was new to Seattle and had agreed to come with Becca this Saturday morning to pick up litter and cat food for her Maine coon, Max.
The Seattle Humane Society’s Adoption Fair was a bonus to the store visit. Becca had insisted they “take a look—just for fun.”
Such an enticement was to Aaron the same thing as coercing a recovering alcoholic to stop by a favorite watering hole, “just for fun.”
Things could get out of control fast.
Becca placed a stray strand of hair behind her ear and glanced down at the card attached to the cage where the Boston waited. Aaron was glad they’d stopped staring at the dog and hoped that by removing their gaze, the dog would feel a little more at ease.
“Look, Aaron. It says her name is Mavis. Isn’t that a funny name?”
“Hilarious.” Aaron had moved down the row and was now stroking the whiskers of a big black-and-white cat who was rubbing against the bars of his crate. Aaron rolled his eyes as he heard Becca return to the Boston.
“Hey, Mavis. What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Becca cooed between the bars.
Aaron glanced back down at the dog—and his kneeling sister—to see that Mavis was not charmed. She turned her head away from Becca and stared resolutely at the back of her crate. Becca stood again, directing her gaze at a yapping Chihuahua mix named Hector one cage over.
Aaron moved to stand next to his sister so he could wrap his arm around her. Becca laid her head on his shoulder. Aaron thought that, to an outsider, they probably looked like a couple out for a Saturday morning running errands or searching for a new pet to add to the family. He also thought that, if someone were to look closely enough, they would know that particular human connection was highly unlikely, perhaps not even possible.
For one, he and Becca looked enough alike to give away their familial relationship. Both shared the same ginger hair, with its rough texture and coarse curls. Aaron’s wasn’t as noticeable because it was clipped close to his skull, making his pale skin, freckles, and green eyes stand out even more. Becca, just two years older than his twenty-four, looked like someone you’d find working in an Irish pub, with her mane of wild copper hair, pale skin, and ample form. The other reason they couldn’t possibly be a couple was that Aaron knew he enjoyed firm pecs, washboard abs, and a well-endowed man just as much, if not more, than his sister. Yet they got along, which was a good thing, because Aaron had just moved to Seattle from Pittsburgh after a bad breakup and was sharing his sister’s studio apartment near Green Lake, just a few miles south.
Aaron leaned down to look in once more at the tiny Boston terrier, staring out at him as though she needed rescue more than any of these other dogs and cats, set up in similar crates along tables at the back of the store. His heart tugged at him again—she was as alone and abandoned as he was.
Their eyes met, and something passed between the dog and the man. Understanding, maybe? Recognition? It was as though, for just an instant, Mavis spoke to him. The surprising thing about what she said, in Aaron’s mind, was that it was not a plea for help, but one of empathy for him. She seemed to be saying, “I know you, and I know what you’re going through. I get what it feels like to be discarded.”
Of course, I’m just projecting.
Aaron wasn’t sure, really, what to think. All he knew was that he needed to remove his gaze from the sad round eyes or he would be taking on a new responsibility—one he was most decidedly not ready for and ill-equipped to handle.
“We should get going,” he said to his sister. “You got everything you need for Max?”
“Why the rush?” Becca was letting Hector sniff her fingers. “Look at this little guy—he likes me.” Becca cooed, “Hola, Hector!”
Hector barked, tiny tail wagging.
“Come on.” Aaron cut his gaze back to Mavis, who had moved forward a little in the cage. He had left his hand on its top while he talked to his sister. Mavis lifted her squashed-in face a bit to sniff at it.
“Why are you in such a hurry? Afraid you won’t be able to resist a stray? Lord knows it’s gotten you into trouble before. Just look at how things worked out with Jake.”
Aaron made a tsk sound when his sister mentioned his ex, an older man back in Pittsburgh who had dumped Aaron when he found someone closer to his own age of forty-three. It wasn’t supposed to work that way, was it? Weren’t you supposed to get pushed aside for a younger model?
“Shut up,” he said to Becca. He started to tell her that references to Jake weren’t in the least amusing, not when he was still stinging from the sudden breakup, but something caused him to close his mouth.
Mavis. She was licking his fingers. Her tongue, broad and pink, was making slow laps along each of the fingers coiled around the mesh of her crate. Aaron looked down at her, amazed that the shy creature was bold enough to make the first move.
“Will you look at that?” Becca said softly. “I do believe she likes you.”
Aaron squatted down to peer in at her. She stopped licking for a moment, then went back to her cleaning duties.
“She’s kissing you,” Becca said.
“Oh, this is so not going to happen.” Aaron yanke
d his hand away from the crate and wiped it on his jeans. He cut his gaze to Mavis, a small grin playing about his features. She wagged her stump, peering up at him with hopeful eyes. She might as well have been saying, “I’ve got your number, mister. Make it easy on yourself and surrender now.”
“It’s amazing,” Becca said. “Just a couple of minutes ago that dog was petrified, and look at her now. She sees something in you, li’l brother. She really does.” She paused, then added quickly, “You should get her.”
“Now that’s crazy talk,” Aaron said. “Where would we put her? We’re already on top of each other in your studio. What’s the square footage again? Six hundred?”
“It doesn’t matter. Look how tiny she is! She couldn’t weigh more than ten or twelve pounds.” Becca rolled her eyes. “I think we can accommodate her. And the park is just a block away. You can take her for long walks around the lake.” Becca paused, thinking. “She’ll be a dude magnet. Dogs always are!”
“I am not getting a dog,” Aaron said firmly. “I just moved out here last week. I have no job, I’m nursing a broken heart, I have no home other than some space on the floor of your studio, no car, and at the moment, very few prospects.”
“Mavis doesn’t need any of that.” Becca squatted before the Boston’s crate. “Do you, girl? You just need someone to love you. Isn’t that right?” Becca thrust two fingers into the cage, but Mavis, once again, did not go near her.
Aaron’s heart did go out to the dog, but if ever there was a bad time to adopt a pet, this was it. He knelt next to his sister and put two of his own fingers through the bars. Tentatively, Mavis approached him and began licking. “Oh Lord,” Aaron whimpered.
Becca stood. “See? This is fate. This is where you and destiny collide.”
Aaron glanced up at his sister. “Isn’t Destiny the drag queen we saw at Julia’s over the weekend? Anyway, quit being so melodramatic. I am not taking this dog home. You don’t really want me to, do you?”
“You’ve just had your heart stomped on by a man you thought you were going to spend the rest of your life with. I think Mavis here is a grand idea. And… she might need you just as much as you need her.”
Aaron said nothing, simply looking back into the cage. He didn’t tell his sister he was thinking the exact same thoughts she had just voiced. “She is sweet. She could use a bit of fattening up. I can see her ribs.” He didn’t take his hand away from Mavis’s tireless tongue but looked back up at his sister. “She’s a problem dog, Becca. Look at how timid she was. She’s probably been abused. Poor dear.”
“All the more reason to take her home.”
“I don’t know. I don’t even have money for my own food, let alone a dog’s. Then we’ll have to get her shots and all the rest. Dogs, even rescues like this, aren’t cheap.”
“I can take care of it. You’ll pay me back when you get on your feet.”
Aaron shook his head and stood, reluctantly removing his hand from Mavis’s adoring tongue. “Come on, sis. Let’s get out of here before I do something I regret.”
“Just get her.”
“The adoption fee includes spaying and all her shots.” A young man approached them. Aaron had noticed him earlier manning the Humane Society table. He was tall and blond, with a little pudge—sort of a wholesome, stocky, farm-boy type. If the guy had an online profile, he would probably describe himself as having a “football player build.” But his smile was warm, his multicolored wheat and nearly white hair was fetching, falling loose over his forehead, and his ice-blue eyes could lock you in their gaze. His lashes, Aaron noted, were far too long for a man, yet the guy radiated maleness. Those blue eyes met Aaron’s right now, holding his gaze for a beat longer than most people would. In that instant, Aaron’s gaydar went off—the language of the eyes was so much more eloquent than words.
“Who are you?”
“Sorry. I’m Christian Knowles. I’m a volunteer at the shelter.” He looked at Mavis for a moment, then back at Aaron. Aaron noticed he hadn’t once looked at Becca, even though his sister was standing right there. “And you are?”
“Aaron Yore.” He stuck out his hand, and Christian squeezed it, maintaining eye contact. This certainly seemed to be Aaron’s morning for communication by eyes! He pulled his hand away, a little forcefully, not sure Christian would let go, and said, “And this is Becca.”
“Girlfriend?”
“Oh no, she’s my sister!”
“I can see that!” Christian smiled. “I meant, ‘Girlfriend, where did you get that bag?’” he asked, pointing at her fawn leather shoulder bag, which Aaron happened to know was Valentino and cost way more than his sister could afford. But “girlfriend” had a lifelong weakness for good shoes and bags.
“Hi, Christian. Nordstrom—the Rack, actually. A lucky find.” Becca shook his hand too, but she did not get the soulful gaze and the overly long palm-to-palm connection. “I was just telling Aaron he should bring Mavis home. He just got dumped by his boyfriend, and Mavis looks like she’s in the same boat, so they’d be a match made in heaven, right? Good for each other.” Becca giggled.
Aaron rolled his eyes. “My sister. God love her. Always the matchmaker. I just moved to Seattle. I don’t think I can handle the responsibility of a dog right now.”
Christian leaned in close enough that Aaron could smell the Trident on his breath. “You know, if you can swing it, now is not really a bad time. If you don’t have a job at the moment, it will give you and Mavis a lot of time to get acquainted and for you to work on her training.”
“See there…,” Becca said.
“And this little girl does need some quality time and attention.” Christian opened the door of Mavis’s cage. She withdrew to a corner, trembling, but Christian cooed softly to her, moving his hand slowly but purposefully toward the dog. He paused, waiting for her to stick out her snout and sniff, and when she did, he gently scratched her behind the ears. He kept stroking and petting while telling Aaron, “We found her shivering by a dumpster behind a Jack in the Box on Aurora. She had been eating whatever scraps didn’t make it into the bin. Sad. She was so skinny when she was brought in, we weren’t sure she would make it.” He stopped for a moment and drew in a big breath. “We don’t know where she was from or who owned her, but it was pretty obvious from her demeanor and physical condition, she’d been treated bad.” He paused. “Really bad.”
He reached slowly into the cage and brought Mavis out, cradling her in his arms. She immediately burrowed her head into his armpit, and Christian continued to gently pet and massage her. “It’ll take a lot to earn back her trust, but I can tell you this. If someone takes the time to do it, she’ll be so grateful, you’ll have a true BFF.”
Just then Mavis poked her head out from beneath Christian’s armpit to look up at Aaron with her huge brown eyes. Aaron would almost say her expression was beseeching. The look, and Christian’s story, had caused a lump to form in his throat.
He reached out to pat Mavis’s head. Instead of cowering and retreating, she stretched to meet his touch.
And the deal was sealed.
Aaron looked at his sister, helpless. Her own eyes brimmed with tears. “You have to take her,” she whispered.
Aaron let out a long sigh, wondering if there had ever even been any point in trying to fight a battle that was most likely lost the minute he and his sister walked over to the adoption fair. A small part of him had known, the moment they decided to stop by the collection of crate-topped tables, that he would be leaving with more than just his sister.
“What’ll it take to bring Mavis home?” he asked Christian.
“The adoption fee is seventy-five dollars, and that includes her spay, vaccinations, and microchipping. You’ll need to fill out some paperwork, but I can help you through that.” Christian was already leading Aaron toward a desk situated at the end of the long row of tables. He handed Mavis to Aaron so he could move ahead, seat himself, and get out the necessary forms.
M
avis settled herself into his arms. Even though she was tiny, her little body was warm, and there was no sign of trembling as she snuggled against him. Aaron put a hand under her chin to cradle her head and wondered what it would be like to fall asleep with her next to him. It was as though she belonged with him. And maybe she did.
Maybe she did.
Filling out the forms passed in a blur. Now that Aaron had made his decision, he couldn’t wait to get home with Mavis, to make her a part of his new life. After the forms had been completed, a call placed to Becca’s landlord to verify she could have a dog, and a check written, brother and sister went off in search of supplies.
They bought Mavis a small crate and a fleece pillow to go in it, a bag of kibble the clerk on the floor assured them was the healthiest, some chicken jerky treats, a ball, a stuffed hedgehog, and a collar and leash.
Mavis was all set.
But was Aaron?
He looked down at the little dog, who seemed to understand she was going home, and thought: yes.
Chapter 2
MAVIS’S UNDERSTANDING of her situation seemed to vanish the moment they arrived home. She had been fine in the car, nestled in Aaron’s lap. She had even been comfortable enough to fall asleep, her head drooping, and broadcast an amazing snore.
Becca took her eyes off the road for a moment to glance at the dog. “Is that really her?” She laughed. “That sounds like something that would come out of a truck driver.”
“I think your windows are rattling,” Aaron whispered by way of agreement, his hand resting softly on Mavis’s head.
She had slept through their stop at Whole Foods, which Aaron had insisted on, making his sister go into the store for the ingredients he’d need to make Mavis the kind of wholesome, healthy food he thought would really stick to her ribs. “Pick up some ground chicken or turkey—and make sure it’s organic—and get some brown rice, some stock, and some sort of good-quality frozen vegetables. Maybe broccoli.” Just then, the air filled with the sour odor of rotten eggs. Aaron looked down at the dog. “Good one, girl.”