Ani and I headed out with Juno Monday evening a little more subdued than usual. This would be our last walk to the park before she left on Wednesday, and we were carefully skirting the subject as we discussed everything but her trip. It wasn’t like we didn’t have anything to talk about. I wanted her opinion of Sebastian, now that she’d spent more time with him, and she wanted to hear all about last night’s practice, how the band was handling the fresh blood, and if I’d learned anything more about him.
“I don’t know anything for sure,” I said in response to her questions about his family. “He did say something that made it sound like it was just him and his dad, though. He’s not very talkative.”
“The quintessential brooding artist type, hm?” Ani teased as we made our way up the slope to our spot overlooking the dog park. “But that might mean he’s a good listener, and that’s a plus, right?”
Foster and Pete weren’t around, but it was close to dinner time, so they were probably off rounding up a meal. Ani and I had talked often about how to handle helping him while preserving his dignity. He’d always been very appropriate toward us, had never asked us for anything at all, in fact, and he clearly loved his dog, who looked better fed than Foster did half the time. Every once in a while, we’d come Monday nights armed with a picnic basket packed with enough food to share with Foster, a token meal he always accepted graciously. Maybe it was just to appease our own guilty consciences for having so much compared to a man who seemed to have so little, but we thought it might feel like less of a handout to him that way. Most days we just brought water bottles to share with him and Pete, and he always appreciated them. He took our empties, too, although we knew the recycling plant only gave him pennies apiece, but he always seemed appreciative. So did Pete. But then Pete appreciated everything, everyone, and every dog that crossed his path. Foster once commented that although Pete wasn’t much of a watch dog, he was better company than most folks he knew. Having met and played with Pete, I couldn’t argue with him.
“I really need to get some one-on-one time with him, Ani. Away from the other guys in the band. Casual stuff so it won’t feel like a drill fest. But our schedules are so tight right now with the extra rehearsals. I may just have to wait until after this Taylors gig, and maybe even after Tom leaves, to do so.” Sebastian was going to be frequenting our home on a regular basis, he had a key to the studio, and one couldn’t be too careful these days. Especially if one was considering getting to know a person on a more-than-friends basis.
And I was. I was totally considering it.
And desperately hoping he might be, too.
It had taken me forever to fall asleep last night. My mind kept replaying the whole evening, but especially those few moments before Sebastian left, his big hand curling around mine, his lips brushing the backs of my knuckles. This morning, I’d even entertained the juvenile notion of putting a bag over my hand to protect it before getting in the shower. I looked down at my hand now, spreading my fingers wide as I turned it this way and that. I could still feel the gentle pressure where he’d kissed it; surely there must be some mark, some telltale imprint left behind.
“You could just text him, or even better, call him. I mean, if you really want to know him better, why wait? He texted you in the middle of the night, didn’t he?”
“Yes, I know. But I’m not used to having to drag information out of people. Usually when we start talking, when I invite people over and they see my home, meet my family, my friends, they fill in a few details about their lives. Not so with Sebastian. Hence, Tom and Jordan’s Operation Coffee Shop.” I plucked a blade of grass from where it grew long near the base of the sweetgum, pressed it flat between my thumbs and blew on it, making a noise like a duck call.
“Ew. What if Pete or some other dog peed on that?” Ani asked, pushing my hands away from my face.
I’d never thought of that before. I dropped the grass like it had burned me, lunged to my feet, and scurried around to spit behind the tree, then poured some water from my bottle into my open mouth, not wanting to contaminate the plastic rim, and spit again.
“Hi, Sebastian,” Ani called out, her voice cracked with humor.
“Oh, you’re so funny,” I said from behind the tree, and then swished and spit again.
“What are you doing here? Do you have a dog?” Ani never knew when to quit. I took a long swig, filling my cheeks, and turned to threaten her with a shower.
“No dog. Just here to visit a friend.” Sebastian. Backpack slung over one shoulder, a bulging fast food bag in one hand, walking up the slope toward us.
Forgetting about my mouthful of liquid, I tried to suck in air. It didn’t work. I spewed the water on the ground at my feet, just missing my shoes, and wheezed and coughed fit to beat the band. Doubling over, unable to catch my breath, I tried to quell the bile rising in my throat. Don’t you dare hurl in front of him, T-Bird!
Ani was on her feet in a flash, but Sebastian was quicker. He crouched beside me, took my water bottle from me, just like he’d taken my glass at breakfast a couple of weeks ago when I’d choked on my drink in front of him the last time. He rested a hand on my back, but thankfully didn’t pat me. I would have knocked his arm away none too gently if he’d tried it. From the corner of my eye I could see he was studying my face, his own expression concerned, but he waited to speak until I was no longer gagging. “You okay?”
I straightened a little, pushing a few strands of hair that had come loose from my clip out of my eyes, tucking it behind my ears. “Yes,” I gasped, then coughed some more, my eyes watering like crazy. I swiped at my face with the back of my hand and regained a little control before finally looking at him, my cheeks flushed, I was sure, with both exertion and embarrassment.
He handed me my water bottle and I gingerly sipped the cool liquid before thanking him. “Classy, I know, right?”
“The gagging or the spitting?”
I rolled my eyes. “Great. You saw that, too? I ducked behind the tree to spit, you know.” I wasn’t crass by nature. Yeah, I played the tough girl, but I also boasted the old junior high mantra of good girls everywhere; “I don’t smoke and I don’t chew, and I don’t go out with boys who do.” Usually spitting fell in the same category as smoking and chewing in my book, but technically, I didn’t think my actions really qualified as crass since in essence, I was ridding my mouth of potentially toxic material.
“Yes, you did,” Sebastian acknowledged with a wide, teasing smile. “You’re quite proper, aren’t you?” His eyes traveled teasingly from my messy knot of hair clipped to the top of my head, to my Misfits T-shirt with its torn-off sleeves, black leggings, and black Chuck Taylor hikers with the neon green laces.
I flung my arm out to backhand him in the chest, and in a move so fast it made me screech in surprise, he knocked it away with a raised forearm, like a martial arts block. I staggered a little and gawked at him, sliding my offended appendage behind my back. “What was that?” I gasped, tentatively flexing and rotating my forearm behind me. It didn’t really hurt, but with my fair skin, I wouldn’t be surprised to find a bruise tomorrow morning.
“Crap! Sorry.” He reached for me immediately, his hands curling gently around both shoulders. He ducked his head and looked me in the eye, a muscle in his jaw twitching revealingly. “You okay? You—you startled me. Caught me by surprise.”
Ani looked from me to him and back again, her eyebrows cocked in concern. “Everything all right?” she asked. As easygoing and unassuming as Ani was, she was not hesitant to speak up on behalf of someone else.
I nodded, Tom’s words playing at high volume in my head. “It’s instinct, Tish. My instinct is to hit back…” I kept my hand behind me, not wanting either of them to look too closely at it. I didn’t want this to turn into something it wasn’t, especially if it was my fault.
“Did I hurt you, Tish?” He was clearly upset at the idea and I shook my head.
“No. I’m fine. I shouldn’t have smacked you that way.” Tom was obviously right, that not all guys were like him and my brothers. But if Sebastian wasn’t like them when it came to how he treated people, did that mean he was like me? Throwing around his physical prowess at will? I’d backhanded him first. If he’d done anything like that to me, I would have hit him back. Harder. So why was his reaction so unexpected? And why shouldn’t he try to stop me from hitting him, even if it had been a little rougher than necessary?
The three of us stood awkwardly for a few moments, and then Ani asked more directly, “Are you all right, Tish?”
“Of course,” I assured her. I brought my arm up and waved it around between us as exhibit A. “I’m fine.”
“Not your arm, doofus. Your breathing. You remember how to breathe again?” Ani took a step toward me, and I didn’t miss the cautionary glance she tossed in Sebastian’s direction.
“I’m fine,” I said again, taking another sip of water to prove it. “Just went down the wrong pipe, that’s all.” I beckoned for Sebastian to join us. “Come. Sit with us. This is our favorite place to wait while Juno gets her fill of Dogville.” I pointed out Ani’s Jack Russell who was hanging with a group of dogs near a watering trough. “Hey, Ani, look. Isn’t that Pete?”
“It is,” Sebastian answered me, and I looked up at him curiously.
“You know Pete? And Foster?” Ani asked, her own expression mirroring mine.
“Yep. He’s the friend I was coming to see.” He held up the grease-splotched burger bag he’d dropped when he came to my rescue. “Brought him some dinner.” He lifted a hand to shield his eyes against the late afternoon sun and scoped the park for signs of Pete’s owner. “You two haven’t seen Foster?” His tone was laced with worry, his brow lined.
“No. And I didn’t notice Pete when we first got here,” I told him, scanning the park myself. I’d never seen Pete without Foster before either. “How do you know Foster?” I asked, my curiosity a slight distraction from the worry building in my stomach.