Chapter Fifteen

WHEN JULIAN WALKED into the kitchen that morning, he was more determined than ever to make coffee. For one, he was exhausted after lying awake thinking about what would happen after the dogsitting. For two, he knew Cole liked coffee. He’d mentioned it during their second, better conversation. If he couldn’t sort out the whole espresso machine situation, he could stop at a coffee shop instead, he guessed. Maybe he’d even get Sprinkles a pup cup or whatever it was dogs loved to get at those places.

Julian had protested the espresso maker long enough. After finding the stupid woofle maker, he’d forgotten to finish figuring out how to work it, and now, he felt frustrated even trying. Overly complicated coffee felt exhausting. For a moment, he briefly considered calling Molly and seeing if she could give him the rundown, to show him how to make a perfect cup of espresso, the exact kind of latte or drink that would be good for someone who takes their coffee with two sugars—he’d woken up in the middle of the mostly sleepless night more certain than ever that was how Cole took his—but that would require explaining to Molly why he needed to know, this far into his stay. Because if he were asking for himself, he would have wanted to know on day one.

And if he said he was making it for someone, well, she’d want details. The last thing he wanted to do was tell her he planned to make it for Cole only to be told he was definitely going to get shot down. And…shot down for what? Did he have any hope that this would be anything? If he was honest with himself, maybe. But really, he had also convinced himself enough this was just a way to thank Cole for his help. For the dog wash, for the company at the dog park, for the tips and tricks with Sprinkles.

It's not about anything else. Right?

Still, he didn’t want to admit to Molly that he might, potentially, a little bit, be interested in Cole. Especially if she had reason to tell him Cole wouldn’t be interested. To that point, he didn’t want to know. Not from Molly. He didn’t want her to laugh in his ear, tell him, “you dummy, he and his girlfriend have been together for years,” or something else to make him feel equally stupid and out of the loop.

“Sprinkles, I guess you’re getting that pup cup after all.”

*

“WHAT’S THIS?” COLE asked.

“Black, two sugars, right?”

“Yes?” Cole furrowed his brow a little bit. “You remembered.” He offered a small smile.

“I… did you, uh. Were you not…?” Julian started to stumble over his words. Cole seemed almost a little weird about the whole thing, like he didn’t expect or want it. Suddenly, Julian was second-guessing himself and his decision to bring coffee. Maybe he should have called Molly after all.

“Nobody’s ever brought me coffee here before.” He walked over, sat on the bench, and took a sip. “It’s good. You’re…you’re good, Julian.”

Julian sat down next to him. “I don’t really know the bench buddy etiquette, I guess.” He tried to brush off his confusion a little bit.

“Is that what we are?” Cole asked gently. “Bench buddies?” Another slow sip of his coffee, and Julian’s head was spinning.

“I don’t know. You said that’s what you and Molly are, so I just assumed—”

“Well, see, I’d been assuming that for a while, but bench buddies don’t bring each other coffee,” Cole said. “And I’ve never helped a bench buddy at a dog wash either.” He smirked a little bit, coffee still in hand. He didn’t look at Julian, just watched as Sprinkles and Bruiser marched around each other, sniffing and playing.

“I figured you did that because I looked completely helpless.”

“You did,” Cole admitted. “But I also think at this point, we qualify more as friends. Y’know, we took our conversation outside of the confines of the dog park.”

Julian considered this as he took a sip of his own coffee—one cream, one sugar—and held it out, gently nudging Cole’s with his own in a small toast. “To being friends.”

“Yeah. To being friends.” Cole watched Sprinkles carefully after that, looking at her walking around, then lying down. “She seems extra tired lately. Is something wrong?”

Julian, still on a high after the good part of their conversation, stilled. “Uh, I don’t know.”

“Is she sleeping okay?”

“Yeah, I mean, I’m pretty sure.” He looked at her, head tilted. “I haven’t heard her up at night at all. And I’ve moved her crate into my room, so I’d think I’d hear her.” Never mind that he’d done it not to take better care of Sprinkles, but because he liked having her closer, so he could hear her if she needed something.

“Eating okay?”

Julian tensed. “Um, no. We’ve, uh…we’ve struggled there.” He looked down at the ground and nudged some dirt with his foot, feeling awful. “I’ve tried everything. I just…don’t know where to go from here. Molly left me expensive food, and I’ve tried it every possible way. I tried it the way it’s supposed to be made, in this stupid little waffle maker—”

“Chicken and Woofles, huh?”

“Yeah,” Julian sighed. “I hate the name of it. I hate making it. It smells awful, and Sprinkles won’t go near it. I tried preparing it other ways. Microwave, stovetop, oven… She barely touches it no matter what I do, but Molly acted like she loved the stuff.”

“I don’t know a single dog who likes it,” Cole explained. “But they have this cult following. I’m going to guess your sister probably went off-label and topped it with add-ons, and then didn’t tell you to do that. Or she did but didn’t give you the instructions.”

Or she did, and Julian didn’t listen to her properly. Either way, he didn’t know what to do with that. “I tried wet food from a can. Not like, the crap stuff, but the real top-shelf, good kind of stuff. She won’t eat it. I tried kibble, again, the quality stuff, did my research and everything. That wasn’t her style.” Hell, it had taken him three days to realize she only got a few spoonfuls, not a whole big bowl like on the front of the package.

Cole sat quietly for a minute. For long enough that Julian started to worry he’d said something very, very wrong.

“Listen, I know that changing up her diet probably wasn’t the right thing to—”

“No, I get it,” Cole said. “If she wasn’t eating enough, trying to get her to eat is a good plan. I mean, it’s better to incrementally change a diet instead of just full tilt switching her, but I think your intentions were good.”

Julian nodded. Still, he felt wrong. “The only thing she’s been willing to eat is the pup cup from the coffee shop. And yes, I found out afterward how awful those are for dogs.” He slumped his shoulders. “Some lady in the parking lot went off on me about it.”

Cole chuckled. “In moderation, they aren’t terrible. As a daily treat, yeah, they’re pretty bad. Dogs just aren’t made to process them like we are.”

“But how do I start getting her to eat enough otherwise?” Julian was truly stumped on that one. She needed to eat. She needed to do something. She kept lying there on the ground. Even he could see the change between her now and on day one. She was happy, but she was tired. And he was willing to bet Cole was right. A lot probably had to do with the lack of good, nutritious food. If she wasn’t eating enough, she wouldn’t have the energy to play.

“Well, for one, she won’t eat a lot, so she may be getting almost enough, and you just haven’t figured out her portion sizes…but, well, if she’s tired and sluggish, you’re right. It probably isn’t quite the right fit for her.” Cole pondered, slowly sipping the coffee. Julian followed his gaze to watch Bruiser paw at Sprinkles’s side. “Have you considered homemade food?”

“Homemade food?” Julian let out a small laugh that he quickly disguised as a cough as soon as he realized Cole was dead serious.

“I mean, okay, what does Molly like about Chicken and Woofles? Probably that it’s handmade. That’s their usual selling point. Except the thing is, it’s not. It’s made in a factory. They just like you to think it’s small-batch, nice and local kind of stuff. Really, it’s large batch and chicken parts. It’s not what they advertise. But you can make her what she needs. If you can cook your own dinner, you can cook Sprinkles some dinner.”

Julian shook his head. “I wouldn’t know the first thing about cooking for a dog.”

“Okay, well, tell me what you like to eat. What’s your go-to meal when you’re trying to eat something quick and healthy?”

“I dunno. Lemon pepper chicken, some broccoli and onions, probably cooked in butter because God, I try to eat good but I love it when it’s a little bit bad for me.” He grinned. “Not that butter’s bad but…” He considered for a moment. “Oh, and brown rice.”

“Okay, so, for Sprinkles, it would be more like, diced cooked chicken, no lemon pepper seasoning. Chopped-up broccoli. No butter, no onions. She’ll need more protein than vegetables but serving her that would be completely acceptable food. And she’d probably love it. And she could even have a spoonful or two of the rice, before any butter, salt, pepper, seasonings that you might add to it. So, just plain rice. She’d basically be eating what you’re eating, but a stripped-down, dog-safe version of it.”

“Is that what Bruiser does? Eat what you eat?”

“Generally, yeah. I mean, I know it’s not something everyone can or wants to do, and I’m a strong believer that food is good and a fed dog is better than a starved dog, so if someone can do kibble, or can do a can, that’s better than not feeding a dog, and if someone can do good-quality kibble, that’s better than the crappy stuff they sell for pennies, but I’m always going to be an advocate for feeding dogs fresh, homemade meals when possible.”

Julian considered this for a minute, thinking on it. “I guess I just worried I’d feed her something she couldn’t have.”

“You know what? I get it. There’s a lot dogs can’t have. Grapes, garlic, onions, oil, all that is off-limits. How about this? You plan the meal I told you today. Chicken, broccoli, rice. And then when I see you tomorrow, I’ll make sure you have a plan to get you started.” Cole drained his coffee, head tilted back to get the last drop. “Sound good? I’ll get you a list of dangerous foods too.”

“You don’t have to—”

“Hey. That’s what friends are for.”

*

JULIAN HAD NEVER seen Cole carry a bag before. But that’s what he had the next day, a messenger bag slung over one shoulder, Bruiser’s leash in his other hand. He sat down at the bench, unhooked the leash, then turned to smile and wave as he heard Julian approach, Sprinkles’s bark alerting him that they were there. Julian let Sprinkles free from her leash, a little more pep in her step after the meal she ate last night. She hadn’t even hesitated, gobbling it up in seconds.

“You were right,” Julian said. “That was exactly what she wanted. The chicken was her favorite, but she went nuts for the broccoli too.”

“Good!” Cole seemed genuinely thrilled for him, excited that Sprinkles had eaten. “She looks happy today.” She was already running circles around Bruiser, jumping up next to him and trying to smell him. Bruiser laid down and let her jump over him and climb on top of him to play. “I brought something for you.”

“Yeah?” Julian smiled at that, passing Cole a cup of coffee. It seemed routine now, even though it was only his second day bringing it. “Don’t worry. I didn’t get her a pup cup today.”

“Here,” Cole said. “Trade.” He passed over a cookbook. Not an ordinary cookbook. One with a dog slapped on the bright-yellow cover.

“A dog cookbook?” Julian studied the front of it, then set his own coffee on the ground next to his foot so he could flip through it.

“It’s a really good one. It has recipe ideas, sure, but it also tells you portion sizes for the size of the dog, a list of dog allergens and toxic foods to avoid, homemade treat ideas, and a whole bunch of other stuff that should help when you’re planning meals for her.”

Julian considered this. He honestly wished he’d had this when he first started watching Sprinkles instead of almost three weeks into his month-long job. Then again, three weeks ago, he would have rolled his eyes at it and considered this too much. “This is incredible,” he said, studying the pages. “Cranberries and turkey? That’s basically a Thanksgiving dinner.” He felt bad borrowing this book for a week’s worth of meals, but hey. Late was better than never.

“Exactly. The whole book is planned for dogs to really eat what’s in season, so it’s affordable for the pet owner. But it’s also a great way for you to feed her even now. And to see how what you eat fits into her diet.” Cole reached into his bag again and pulled out some small containers. “Here. Sample meals. So you know what you’re doing when you get started. It’s what I make for Bruiser, but in a smaller size.” He added a baggy on top. “And a few tiny treats for Sprinkles. Just in case.”

Julian couldn’t help but smile. “This is…wow, Cole. You seriously didn’t need to do all of this.” He only had a few days left of dogsitting, and Cole had basically gotten him covered for the next couple of days.

“It’s really no problem. Just…extras, you know?”

But for some reason, it did feel like a lot. Like Cole had gone out of his way to help him, to do something bigger for him than he’d expected. “Thank you. Seriously, I really… This helps.” Julian wanted to try. For Cole’s sake, he wanted to try. Hell, for Sprinkles’s sake, he wanted to try. He wondered briefly if he should tell Molly. If nothing else, so she could stop the Chicken and Woofles deliveries. But then he wondered if she’d be mad or bothered that he’d changed Sprinkles’s diet.

Still, she should probably know. One, that Sprinkles hated her previous dinners. Two, that Sprinkles had a new diet, just so she could adjust and find a dogsitter who could accommodate that diet when she inevitably went on a work trip again. He decided he’d tell her. Or, at least he would as soon as he figured out if this was going to stick. One good meal did not a new diet make. Sprinkles could have just been incredibly hungry the night before. Julian had to try it again. And again. Then he had to see what stuck.