A Very Merry Mess (Cider Cove Sweet Southern RomComs #3)

Elliott

ELLIOTT

“This way, baby,” Momma says, and while I’m irritated that she has to guide me through the airport, I go with her, because I need her to guide me through the airport.

We’ve flown into Detroit, and I’ve never been here before. I’ve rented a car, and we’ll head out of the city and to a smaller suburb called Mayflower. Paws For a Cause operates on a farm in the more rural community, and they raise, train, and sell their guide dogs from one of the quaintest places on earth.

Well, that’s at least what it looked like online. I’ve spent the past week or so confirming the pick-up of my dog, getting the name, phone number, and address of the person I need to contact when I get to Paws For a Cause, and looking at the services they provide to people like me.

People who can’t see.

A quiet excitement builds within me, because I’m finally taking a step beyond wearing glasses to admit I can’t see. Once I get back to Cider Cove, Luna and I will go everywhere together, and she’ll be wearing a harness and handle to show she’s a service dog.

More than that.

A guide dog for the blind.

I’ll be here for a few days, learning the same commands Luna has been trained with, and we’ll work together with the help of her trainer and handler, and then…she’s mine. She’s coming home with me, and Paws For a Cause has already connected me with a center for the blind and visually impaired, so I can continue to get assistance with Luna, and with my own visual disability.

I stand with my mom as we wait for our bags, and when they come, I pull them from the belt. I handle everything at the rental counter, and twenty minutes later, we’re loading everything we brought to Michigan with us into the back of a mid-size SUV.

Ninety minutes later, I make the turn from the highway onto a quieter road, and after one more left turn, a well-kept sign announces our arrival at Paws For a Cause.

Momma has been unusually quiet since we left the Charleston airport, and now, she reaches over and pats my leg. “I’m so excited for you, Ell. Are you excited?”

“Yes, Momma.” I stop to read the sign at a fork in the road. “Which way to Candidate Parking?” I ask.

That’s where my directions said to go, and Momma points to the right as she says, “To the right, son.”

I haven’t had to give up driving yet, and I told her I want to keep doing things I can until I can’t anymore. After much nagging, which she’s earned multiple Gold Medals in, she finally agreed to stop asking me if I can see. I know when I can and can’t, and this drive out here hasn’t been too bad.

Candidate Parking is empty, with only a couple of cars down on the end, parked in reserved spots.

As we step out of the car, I feel the cool air wrap around me, invigorating yet slightly intimidating since I’ve never been to this place before. “Let’s do this thing,” I mutter, mostly to myself.

Momma gives me a gentle squeeze on my shoulder, a silent show of support that I really appreciate. “You ready for this?” she asks, her voice laced with excitement.

“Definitely,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I feel. My heart beats a little faster as I follow the signs—all of them decorated with some version of a guide dog—leading to the “recruitment center,” my mind filled with thoughts of Luna and all the possibilities she brings to my life.

I open the door for my momma, who enters first, a rush of heat coming out into the winter where I still stand. I wish I didn’t feel like I’m standing on a teeter-totter. So many good things in front of me on the one side, with Luna and a bright new way of living for the next several years.

Alone.

A bright new way of living alone. I can just hear the Mars rovers saying such a thing, and it makes me sad, because I want Ryanne in that bright new future. She weighs everything down, and I wish I could share this with her and my mom.

I’ve seen her at work, but only superficially and only in passing. We’ve got the store put back together now, but she made sure she had things to do on the floor when I’ve arrived in the afternoons. Most of our communication has been through email and texts, and it’s all been about work.

And that makes my heart heavy. I think of Perserverance’s last words— My batteries are low and it’s getting dark —and that’s how I feel.

“Hello,” a woman says, and I blink my way out of the duplicity of my life. “I’m Lydia. You must be .” She extends her hand toward me, and I latch onto it.

“Yes,” I say, a rush of gratitude filling me. After all, guide dogs aren’t exactly cheap. “I’m . Thanks so much for having us.”

“Come on it.” The dark-haired woman turns and enters the building, and I finally do the same. “Luna is so excited to meet you.”

I’m not sure how Lydia can possibly know that, but whatever. Dogs surely get excited sometimes too, right?

The recruitment center is welcoming and accessible, with great big lettering on all the signs, which I appreciate. It doesn’t feel babyish or cartoonish, but professional, with silhouettes of guide dogs and their owners on warning signs and big arrows to help you find where you’re going. The walls are painted a soft cream, and I feel like I’ve come to the right place.

“Before we go meet Luna, I want to go over a few things with you,” Lydia says, guiding me toward a conference room. My stomach churns, and I swallow as the three of us take a seat together.

“Luna has been specially trained to help you navigate your world,” she explains, placing a thick folder in front of me. “She’ll help you understand your surroundings and give you confidence to explore your environment safely. Remember, she’s going to be your best friend.”

Those words make me think of Ryanne, and I can’t open the folder right now. I remind myself that I don’t have to have every word of it memorized before they’ll let me take Luna, so I just smile at Lydia. “I’m excited to learn what to do before I go fully blind.”

She smiles. “We do try to get guide dogs with those with conditions like yours, so you’re more comfortable as your vision continues to worsen.” She speaks kindly, and I find myself nodding. “You might not have Luna forever, but she should be a good guide dog for you for oh, at least six or seven years.”

Long enough for me to go completely blind.

She puts one hand over the folder. “This is a lot of take-home instructions. Reminders for you, if you will. For the next couple of days, you’ll be working with Luna and her trainer, Calvin.” She glances over to Momma. “You both will, so you can see what might need help with, and as the fully sighted person, you’ll be able to assist if needed.”

Momma nods, then reaches up to wipe her eyes. I reach over and squeeze her hand, and I hate that she has to watch me go through this. At the same time, I’m so glad I’m not here alone, which again makes me think of Ry. There’s no way she could’ve come with me, even if I’d been brave enough to tell her about my eyesight years ago. I can’t even imagine both of us being gone from the store again.

“So.” Lydia exhales brightly. “Let’s go meet Luna and Calvin. We really think she’s going to be a great match for you, but we never really know until human and dog are in the same room.” She stands, and I jump to go with her.

“I will warn you,” Lydia says, her voice cheerful as we walk down the hall toward a big set of double doors that look like an elephant could fit through them. “The first meeting can be overwhelming for both you and Luna. Just take a moment to breathe and you be a human, and let her be a dog.” She slows and looks back at me and Momma. “I mean, she is a dog, after all.”

I nod, trying my best to put a smile on my face at the same time. “Sometimes I feel human.”

She grins and then moves to the side of the hall and presses a button. The big doors start to swing in, and I would give up watching the Mars rovers online just to see what’s beyond them.

Lydia moves into the room, talking about something again, and I catch a whiff of something utterly dog-like: earthiness, warmth, and a hint of playful mischief. I can’t focus on what she’s saying, as I’ve caught sight of a lean figure standing beside a golden-furred Labrador with eager brown eyes that seem to look right into my soul.

“This is Calvin,” Lydia introduces, gesturing to the trainer. “And of course, Luna.”

The dog sits patiently, her tail thumping the ground over and over—the unmistakable canine sign of excitement. I crouch down, overwhelmed by the rush of emotion that fills me. “Hey, Luna,” I whisper, my voice catching as I extend my hand, palm up, toward her.

Calvin grins as Luna takes a step forward, sniffing my fingers cautiously, then immediately leans in, pressing her head against my palm. “That’s it,” he says, his tone encouraging. “Let her get to know you at your own pace.”

Everything else in the room fades as I take in the warmth of Luna’s fur and the pull of her energy—it feels like fate, as if the universe conspired to bring us together at just the right moment. I can’t help but laugh, a sound filled with relief and happiness. “You’re so sweet, aren’t you?” I murmur, scratching behind her ears.

I stand, feeling a little stitch of embarrassment. “She’s great.” I look down at the dog, who seemingly grins up at me.

“She’s a pretty special dog,” Calvin confirms. “Now, we’re going to start going over how we trained her, and the things she knows.” He smiles at me, and he too has a good air about him. Very calm. “Don’t worry. You’ve got a cheat sheet of all of this in your binder. We’ll start with the easy ones. Sit. Stay. Come. Speak. Leave it. Then we’ll move into learning how to guide her where you want her.”

I thought that was what she’d do for me, but I don’t say anything. I’m here to learn, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.

“Okay, Luna,” Calvin says as he moves several steps away. “Come.”

She immediately gets up and trots over to him, touching his hand with her nose when she arrives in front of him.

“To my side,” he says, and she moves to his right side. I stand there in awe, wondering how many hours, days, weeks, and months it took for her to learn all of this.

Then Calvin looks at me, and my heart feels like it might explode. “Your turn, . Command her to come and sit at your side.”

“We usually start with the dog’s name,” Lydia adds, and I nod at her, my throat so tight.

But I say, “Luna,” and the canine looks right at me. “Come.”

She jogs over to me too, and I hold my hand down, my fingers toward her and lined up with my thigh. She touches her wet nose to my first two fingers, and I laugh. Such a simple action shouldn’t fill me with such wonder, but it so does. “To my side,” I add, and Luna moves to my right side and looks up at me, clearly expecting something from me.

I hope it’s unadulterated love and adoration, because that pours from me.

“You can treat her,” Lydia says, passing me a small, hard chunk of something. “That will go a long way toward the two of you bonding.”

I feed her the dog treat, and she smiles at me again.

“She can’t have a treat for everything,” Calvin says as he returns to where we stand. “Sometimes, a kind word or a good rub is just as effective. Luna.” He looks at her. “And you don’t always have to look at her. You’ll be blind, so you might not know where she is, though once she’s home with you, she’ll find her place.” He crouches in front of her and takes Luna’s face in both of his hands. “She’s very cuddly, so she’ll probably want to be right beside you whenever possible.”

“I have a cat,” I say. “Will that matter?”

“Nope,” he says. “Luna likes other dogs and cats and people. She’s got a great temperament.” He stands up. “Luna, sit.”

She sits.

Calvin grins and scrubs under her chin. “Good girl.” He looks over to me. “Some of her commands have hand signals too. She can open doors and bring you a phone even if you can’t talk. But some of her simple commands come with hand signals too. Sit.” He holds up his hand in a fist. “Is this.”

Luna’s already sitting, so she can’t show me how smart she is by reading doggy sign language. But Calvin points his first finger at the ground, and without saying a word, Luna slides her front legs forward so she’s laying down.

“Incredible,” I say, and I reach down and give her a pat this time. She licks me, and I pull my hand back in surprise. When I chuckle, Calvin does too.

“She shouldn’t lick like that,” Calvin says. “But Luna is very nosy and very tasty. She’s like a toddler. She likes to smell and taste the things she’s trying to understand.”

I grin at her. I want to learn everything she knows, so we can continue to bond and communicate. Calvin and Lydia continue to walk me through the basic commands, and then we take a break with the promise of going over the movement commands before the facility closes and Momma and I have to find somewhere for dinner and get to our hotel.

I find a place to sit while Momma runs to the restroom, and because I want to share this amazingness with the person closest to me, I pull out my phone and call Ry. She doesn’t answer, and my heart sinks down into the soles of my feet.

You must be noshing on steak and M&Ms , I send to her. Call me when you get a sec, would you? I want to tell you about Luna.

She hasn’t said anything else about the guide dog, my trip to Michigan to get her, or my eye condition. My chest cavity shrinks, and I think maybe I’ve just sent a text I shouldn’t have.

Or not , I say. It’s fine if you’re still thinking. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I sigh and tuck my phone under my leg, so I won’t send her yet another text that could confuse her. Then, I lean my head back and close my eyes and let the pure contentment flow through me.

Yes, I’m going blind, but for the first time in my life, it doesn’t feel like a total death sentence. My eyes snap open, and I realize that Ryanne needs to know that. She won’t have to take care of me so much now that I have Luna.

Maybe I can be blind and still be with Ryanne, and that’s something I’ve literally never been able to envision.

But now, as Momma hands me a bottle of peach iced tea she’s bought from the vending machines, a brand new future paints itself across the blank slate in my mind.