Page 130 of Accepting Fate
"I’m okay," Logan says with a little smile. "Really sore but I’m happy to be out of there.”
"I bet,” Mom says, brushing her finger across the cut on Logan’s face.
Noah steps in between the two of them and hugs Logan. "You scared the fuck out of me, Lolo. That fucker will pay with his life. I swear.”
"Noah,” I say sternly.
Logan’s panic attacks can be triggered by anything at the moment. I should have sent out a ‘shit not to say around Logan list’ to the family group chat. I need to keep her calm, so she doesn’t hurt herself more than she already is. One of her medications is to help with the panic attacks but she hasn’t taken anything yet.
"Sorry,” Noah says and lets Logan go.
Touching her arm, she turns to look at me.
Threading her fingers through mine, I get to the explanation she deserves. "You know how I was late because I had a birthday surprise for you?”
Her brow raises and she looks confused. "Yeah…?”
Dad must have been listening because all of a sudden, a black and tan floppy eared German Sheperd sprints out the front door.
I have just enough time to turn Logan before the puppy crashes into her legs.
Logan stares down at her, shocked. Her head bounces back and forth between me and a very excited puppy jumping up on her legs.
"What? How?” she asks, still unsure what to do with herself.
Bending down I pick up the puppy and hold it up to Logan. I don’t want Logan to hold her right now because of how wiggly she is, and I can tell her head is hurting her from whipping it back and forth a second ago.
Logan reaches her hand out to the pup’s nose. The fluff butt tries to escape my arms and go into Logan’s, but I hold her tight. Logan scratches her ears, and the pup relaxes her head into Logan’s hand.
A tear escapes her eyes and she brushes it away quickly.
"Bro. You made her cry!” Noah yells from the porch as he carries a lawn chair down the stairs.
Mom looks over her shoulder. "Noah Alice Hayes, shut your mouth.”
Logan doesn’t even notice; she is too lost in puppy land.
Noah sets the chair behind her and helps guide her down to sit. When she is comfortable, she makes small grabby hands for the puppy.
Kneeling down, I place the pup in her lap and Logan hugs her to her chest. The puppy peppers her face with kisses.
“Do you like her?” I ask but I already know the answer.
Logan nods. "I love her. Thank you and don’t even think about apologizing. I know that’s what you were going to say next.”
She’s right. I was.
Mom chuckles and sits in the seat Dad just put down next to Logan’s.
Mom reaches over and pets the pup's head and looks between me and Logan. "So, what is my granddog's name?”
"Granddog? Really Mom?” I say, not taking my eyes off my girl.
Mom waves me off like she isn’t the one that just said shit likegranddog.
The pup curls up in Logan’s lap and starts falling asleep. "She doesn’t have a name?” Logan asks.
"Nope. She’s yours, Angel. The lady I got her from is known for her dogs to go on to be service and therapy animals. She told me this little girl was the best for you. I guess her daughter has panic attacks from a bad car accident when she was younger. She would lay this girl on her daughter’s chest, and this fluff ball would just sit there until her daughter was okay.”