Here Comes Santa Paws (Christmas Falls: Season 2)

8. Roman

Chapter 8

Roman

ROMAN

I studied Jim’s walk as he did laps between the dining chair and recliner.

“Have you been doing your exercises? Walking as we discussed?”

Jim flipped me off over his shoulder. “Already told you I have. You want me to video record myself as proof?”

I chuckled under my breath. “Not a bad idea.”

“You think I’m supposed to be moving jauntily? I just had my hip replaced, my mattress is as comfortable as a bag of rocks, and it feels like I’m being stabbed in the hip with a hot poker. But yes, Your Honor, I swear on a Bible that I’m doing my homework.”

“You’d better be. If you don’t, you’re the only one who will suffer.”

Jim lowered himself onto the recliner and winced. “Yeah, yeah. So, what are you going to torture me with today?”

This was a hard time in a patient’s recovery. The adrenaline of post-surgery had passed and the hard work had set in.

“You feeling up to a walk outside since it’s dry?”

Color flushed Jim’s cheeks from his exertion, and he lit up at the idea. “Sure. I’m tired of looking at these walls.”

I’d figured. We walked slowly with Jim gripping his cane, but his mood improved immediately when he sucked in lungfuls of fresh air from his porch.

“I’m spending too much time inside.”

I nodded as I watched to make sure he had steady footing on the smooth sidewalk. Fortunately, it was dry. We should be good to avoid slipping hazards.

“That’s something folks often underestimate. Even if we think we’re sedentary, many of us still leave the house a lot or pop up frequently to grab things or use the bathroom. It’s tough having to keep your movement to such a strict minimum.”

He sighed. “It is. At least I’m getting lots of company and even better food.”

The streets were quiet on the Friday afternoon except for the audience of creepy Christmas inflatables in half the yards around us. The sky was gray and overcast.

“My grandson made my favorite mac-and-cheese. He’s such a wonderful young man. You’d like him. He makes sure to visit me several times a week.”

I was so focused on his mobility that I didn’t initially notice his suggestive tone.

“I’m worried about him. He’s been having such a hard time at work lately. He’s trying to find someone to foster this sweet dog, but no one’s coming through for him.” He aimed familiar pleading eyes at me. “Not to mention the massive damage at the animal shelter he runs. He could really use someone to take a stressor off his plate. Did I mention what a lovely young man he is? Great cook.”

I stopped walking as the pieces clicked into place. “Your grandson is Elias?” I should’ve put it together. I’d seen the same surname as Jim’s on Elias’s mail when it had been accidentally dropped in my mailbox. There probably weren’t a lot of Rochas in town.

“You know him?” Jim’s innocent act didn’t fool me for a second.

“We’re focusing on surgery recovery, not animal shelters or grandsons who have too damn many animals in his tiny place to bring in a big, beautiful dog on top of it.” And especially not the fact that Elias had been taking up far too much real estate in my brain the past two days. Even longer, if I were being brutally honest with myself.

I had a morbid curiosity about him. Always chatting with our neighbors, shoveling the sidewalk for the old guy across the street, talking to his dogs like they were human, and being friendly to me despite everything about me screaming for him to leave me the hell alone.

Jim’s grin widened, which made me glower harder.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

With the aid of his cane, he turned and began walking back to his house. “Like what?”

“Like you know things.”

“I’m old enough to be your grandfather. I know more than you, I’d wager.”

“Slow down. This isn’t a foot race,” I barked.

Jim saluted me with his free hand, but he did slow down. His breathing had grown labored.

I wasn’t sure if Jim was more interested in setting me up with Elias or getting me to foster Carol. Neither were happening.

His chatter about his grandson’s saint-worthy traits didn’t stop the rest of our walk. I refused to indulge him, so I let the comments roll off my back. Except for the ones about Carol because I kept picturing Roxy. The more I tried not to think about it, the more my gut squeezed at the memory of how hard I’d cried when we drove away, off to our next home and adventure. How badly I’d missed my friend Warren. Especially as I’d honed my loner skills at the next school, and the next, and the ones after that, until Warren and Roxy faded into distant memories.

Warren, always earnest, had promised that we’d write letters to each other and stay best friends. He’d written to me, but I’d never replied. It had been easier that way.

When we returned to his house, Jim went straight for his recliner. I went over his PT homework until our session next week.

“I got it. And, Roman?” His expression was more serious than I’d seen on him. “Give some thought to fostering Carol. I wish I would’ve listened to Elias and adopted a pet years ago. Don’t be like me.”

I squared my shoulders. “I’m not lonely. I don’t need a pet.”

Jim’s eyebrows rose skeptically. “I didn’t say you were.”

I wasn’t lonely. I didn’t need people or pets mucking up my life and making me feel like shit when, inevitably, I moved to take another job and keep working toward the next step in my career. My next adventure.

“Just think about it, okay?”

I offered a brief nod and let myself out. Once I reached my car, I checked my personal email for any updates on my job applications. I needed to get out of this town and away from its meddling people.