12 Days of Mistletoe

10. Elliot

TEN

elliot

“Why can’t we talk at my place?” I follow Bonnie up the stairs and into her apartment.

“Because Noel needs to go out. And I’m already late for the senior center.”

“Right. You’re going out. And—” I step into her place, following her inside, not even waiting for an invitation this time. “You do have a—” A ball of red fur leaps into the entryway, landing on her light feet like she may be the canine version of a ballerina. “ Dog ,” I stammer. “I can’t believe you lied to me. You said you didn’t have one.”

“And you just lied to your whole family about us dating. Do we really want to play this game right now?”

“For six months I tried to get you to confess. I was nice, I was polite?—”

“You left passive-aggressive threats.” She kneels, giving the fluff ball a rub on the belly. Ignoring me, she croons, her tone flipping a one-eighty. “Hello, sweet girl. I’m sorry I was gone so long.”

Brown eyes stare up at me and a pink tongue lolls out the side of the pup’s mouth.

“Can we sit a minute?” I ask, peering around her place. It’s clean and neat, not a chew toy in sight. Had she let me inside, I would have believed she didn’t have a dog living here. That is, until I saw the red blur. Even then, I kept doubting myself. Nothing was clear.

“If you’d like to talk, you can follow me to the senior center.”

“Uh—” My head spins, but I’ve got nothing else, and maybe if we’re to pull this off, I’ll need a little more info on Bonnie other than the fact that she has a mysterious tattoo and a dog she’s been lying about.

“I need to grab a few things.”

We step farther into a living room that’s twice the size of mine. I pause next to the yellow corduroy couch, not wanting to follow her as she slips through a door I know to be the one bedroom in this apartment. I stand and wait—I don’t sit. I don’t make myself comfortable. She’s assured me we are leaving. Besides, I’m not sure I’m welcome here yet.

Bonnie’s ball of strawberry fur and big brown eyes sits right at my feet. She looks up at me. The dog. The one causing all this fuss.

I can’t help it. She’s like a canine siren calling to me. I reach down and run my fingers over the puffs of her soft, curly fur—she’s a goldendoodle, if I had to guess. The pup leans into my touch and I scratch behind her ear. Her pink collar has the name Noel sewn into its threads.

“Noel?” I say, having only heard Bonnie say it once or twice, and the dog—smaller than my Labrador growing up, but still a good-sized animal—lifts her paws onto my knees. Yep, that’s her name. “Hello, Noel.” I think she might be smiling at me. I smile back at her—it’s instinct—and her paws, furry and long, pad up to my thighs, attempting to get closer to me. I think she likes me. I’m certain she’s fonder of me than her owner is.

The hue of her hair reminds me of Bonnie’s and her affection reminds me of Gran. How odd.

I run a hand over her soft curls. Maybe I would have tried to convince Gran to make an exception had Bonnie told me the truth.

In the few minutes it takes Bonnie to return, I have found a seat on the floor and Noel is in my lap. She’s currently pressing her nose to mine while I rub the sweet spot on her hip. Bonnie stops short upon seeing us, jerking to a halt just outside her bedroom door.

“Uh… what’s going on out here?” she says, brows lowered and staring as if I were doing something illegal.

I swallow and push down my embarrassment. I don’t normally snuggle up to dogs this quick. “We were just getting to know one another.”

“I see that.”

Bonnie’s blue-green eyes rove over me, making me squirm under her scrutiny. Maybe I should stand up. But then, Noel is all cozied in my lap. I don’t want to disturb her.

“I thought you hated dogs,” Bonnie says, one brow raising with accusation.

I huff and stroke Noel’s back. “I told you I didn’t. I just don’t like people taking advantage of my grandmother.”

Bonnie’s nose wrinkles. “ Ouch . Okay, fair enough. Well, I’m glad the two of you made introductions.” But she doesn’t look glad. “No-No, come.”

Noel lifts her head, her beard tickling my wrist as she rises. She slips from my lap and walks over to where Bonnie stands before sitting right at her feet.

“Doesn’t calling her No-No get confusing? What about when you’re actually trying to tell her no ?”

Bonnie crouches, her red sweater pulling up at her waist, showing off the smallest strip of skin on her back as she straps a pink harness over the dog’s back and through her front two paws. “I never have to tell her no,” she says, lifting her eyes to me for only a second. “She’s that good.”

I watch her hands expertly move over each strap and buckle, and then?—

“Wait. She’s a service animal?” Those large yellow letters on the black strap over her pink harness are hard to miss. The word SERVICE is spelled out in all caps.

Bonnie scoops a finger of hair behind her right ear, and while I can’t see it from where I stand, I know there’s a small tattoo back there. One with a story.

“She is.” But that’s all she offers me. I guess I can’t blame her. I did try to evict her dog from the building. She rocks back onto her heels before standing. “So, you’re buying the building?”

I clear my throat. “Yeah.” My parents don’t know yet. I’m not sure how they’ll feel about the idea. But while I love teaching physical education, I have other interests. And eventually, an extra income wouldn’t hurt. I’ve always known I wanted to have a side gig. One that brought in enough income to let me travel.

Her brow furrows and she pauses to study me. Her eyes are narrowed, and one accusing word leaves her mouth: “Why?”

“Why?” I repeat. I know the answer to that question, but it feels personal. Then again, Bonnie and I are officially a “couple”—right?

Okay, maybe not, but if we’re going to get past her surliness, I might need to give her something real. “My grandparents have owned this place forever. It was the first of their three buildings. I used to help my grandfather fix leaky pipes and put in new ovens for people. I realize now I only saw one side to it. But he was always making people more comfortable and happy. I love teaching, but I love this too.”

“You’re a teacher?”

I shove both hands into my slacks pockets. We have a lot to learn. “Yes. Elementary P.E. It’s fun and easygoing. However, I’ve always known I wanted to take this place over for Gran. Only she’s been hesitant.”

Bonnie’s brows cinch as she attaches a leash to the back of Noel’s harness and starts for the door. “Is that because you get note-happy and attempt to evict perfectly nice tenants?”

“No.” I laugh as if she’s made a joke. I’m guessing she hasn’t, but I chuckle anyway. “I’m not really sure. I’m a hard worker and a fair leader. And I’ve been helping with the building forever. I know it. Inside and out.”

“Oh, yeah? A fair leader?”

“I am fair,” I say. I don’t want anyone thinking otherwise. “Those notes weren’t meant to be passive-aggressive. I wasn’t sure you knew the rules. And technically I don’t have any real say here yet. When it became clear that you did know the rules—” I shake my head. “Well, I didn’t want anyone taking advantage of Gran. She’s worked hard to keep this place up.”

Bonnie pauses with her door half open, her winter coat in hand. “I get that. I do. And I wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone. The thing is, I love living here. It’s hard to find a nice, safe place for a single girl to live in the city. And especially a place that allows dogs. At least on my income.” Her chest rises and falls with her deep breath. “Believe me, Elliot. I wasn’t trying to pull one past your gran. Noel is trained—professionally. She’s never a nuisance. I need her and I need this place.”

Need . Need is different from ‘want’ or ‘wish.’ My tongue itches with the desire to ask. She needs this dog and she needs this home.