Page 59 of Fear of Flying

Drew

“This is ridiculous, you know that, right? We should have just turned around and headed home hours ago,” Drew said, the anxiety and anticipation and downright fear swarming around in his chest as he sat in his car in the parking lot of Ruff House Dog Rescue in Albuquerque. But no matter how plaintively he stared at Milo, the hound refused to agree with him.

At least, Drew didn’t think the short, low howl the dog made sounded like an agreement. But given the fact that he’d not been able to do more than so much as doze for a few hours in the evening and that he was currently soliciting relationship advice from a dog, Drew wasn’t sure he trusted his judgment any more than Milo’s right now.

They’d already been through a conversation exactly like this twenty minutes ago, when he’d just about convinced himself he was brave enough to walk through that door. Then he’d felt the telltale pressure of his bladder needing attention, and the very last thing he wanted to do was walk through the door and have to ask to use the bathroom right away.

So he’d left the rescue, found a convenience store—at which he’d used the restroom and gotten a fresh Monster Energy drink because he was running on adrenaline and fumes at this point—and driven back to the rescue. Now he was just staring at the door to the building and willing himself to move.

Yesterday, he’d been filled with nothing but excitement and hope, thrilled with the idea of seeing Zach again and making things right, falling into his arms and... Well, he hadn’t let his imagination get too carried away because he’d been at the shelter for most of the day yesterday. Anything else, literally anything but volunteer hours at the shelter—on a Saturday during an adoption event when they were the most busy—would have had him calling and canceling his shift so he could get to New Mexico even sooner.

But he’d had a shift. During an adoption event. And he hadn’t been about to leave them short-staffed.

Drew looked over at Milo sitting in the passenger seat of his car, and his chest tightened as he thought about the wonder of it all—how ridiculously perfect the timing of things had been. Coincidence? Serendipity? If he hadn’t gone to the shelter yesterday, there was no way he would have adopted Milo on a whim. Just like if there hadn’t been a terrible snowstorm grounding all the flights, he and Zach might have just been friendly acquaintances who would have maybe had a drink together at an airport bar while waiting for their mutual connecting flight.

Milo nosed him, nudging his arm as if to say “get a move on already,” and Drew laughed. “Okay, okay, buddy. You’re right. It’s now or never. Well, not never, but—” Milo nosed him again, this time probably telling him to shut up and stop stalling.

Drew grabbed Milo’s leash, and they got out of the car, heading for the front door of the shelter, which was supposed to close in only a few minutes. When he opened the door and stepped inside, he was hit with the familiar smell of kennel—a not entirely terrible smell when it was freshly cleaned, as it seemed to be now. Milo’s claws clacked lightly on the concrete floor as they approached the counter.

Of course, Zach wasn’t there when he walked in the door. It couldn’t have been that easy, no matter how much he’d hoped it would be. He could see a woman with medium-length, light brown hair just beyond the front desk space, rummaging through a file or something on a shelf.

He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, she was talking to him, still focused on her task and not looking his way. “Sorry, we don’t take surrenders on Sundays.”

“I, um, I’m not...” He wasn’t sure what to say, and he suddenly realized he didn’t even really have a plan. Oh god.

The woman finally turned to face him, and her eyes went wide. It was—it was Jen. “Ohmygod,” she breathed. “You’re—you’re here. Here.”

Drew raised his hand and gave her an awkward wave. “I’m... here.”

“Okaaaay, but why do you have a dog?”

“What?”

“The dog.” She motioned with her eyes down to Milo beside him. “You brought a dog.”

“I... did. I’m not really sure—um, is Zach here?” He didn’t like the fact that his question ended on a slight whimper, but he was hardly in control of this moment.

Jen said something under her breath that he couldn’t quite hear but might have been something like “this is really happening,” and Drew had no idea what that meant.

“I-I was h-hoping I could—”

“—win him back?” she said with a measure of glee that was a bit unnerving. It wasn’t what he’d been about to say, but she wasn’t wrong. Plus, the excitement on her face made it impossible not to agree with her, and it also made his heart start fluttering wildly, both anxious and hopeful.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

She squealed, which, unsurprisingly, started off a minute-long chorus of dogs barking and howling behind the doors, with Milo joining in. “Oops,” she said with a laugh and a small shrug, then held her finger up, motioning for him to wait a second while she grabbed her phone from her back pocket. Drew watched, his anxiousness starting to ramp up a bit, as Jen tapped out what he could only assume was a text to Zach. When she was done, she put her phone face down on the counter, leaned to prop herself up—her chin resting in her hands and her elbows on the counter—and stared expectantly at him. “So, what’s the plan? Let me have it!”

“I don’t h-have a plan . . .”

“What?!” Jen straightened up and gave him an incredulous look, tilting her head. “You drove your ass across all of Texas for TEN HOURS—with a dog??—and you didn’t think up a plan that whole time? Duuuuude.”

Drew stood speechless, his pulse thundering in his ears.

“Fuck, how is that more romantic?”

“It’s romantic?” Drew was suddenly very unsure that they were even on the same subject anymore. Her phone chimed on the counter but she ignored it.

“Yeah, it kinda fucking is.” She nodded and sighed, her eyes drifting over to Milo. “So... is, like, the dog a gift or something? Because that’s kinda a bit over the top.”