“A dog.” I don’t look up from my computer.
The dog barks in reply. He tries to break free from his leash attached to my desk but fails.
“I see that, but why is it here? In your office?”
“He has attachment issues.”
The dog barks again in agreement.
“Is he yours?” Cal takes a hesitant step toward it.
“And Iris’s.”
“Tell me you didn’t get her a dog because you thought it would make her happy.”
“Okay. I won’t.”
He rubs his face. “Shit.”
“If you’re going to judge my plan, you might as well get back to work. I’m already stressed as it is.” Between fielding new temps for Iris’s position and sorting through the rest of my plan, I’m spread thin.
“What evenisyour plan?”
My eyes narrow. “Why do you care?”
“Because I’m your brother and I feel obligated to help you before you do something drastic.”
“Is there something considered more rash than adopting a dog?”
“I sure as hell don’t want to find out.” He pats the dog’s head.
I glare at him. “I thought you were angry with me.”
“I am, but I want what’s best for Iris, even if that happens to be you.”
“Thanks a lot for the backhanded compliment, asshole.”
He shrugs. “Like you need any more self-esteem boosting.”
“Seeing as my wife wants nothing to do with me, I could use all the help I can get.”
“Who knew you being in love would make you this pathetic?”
“If you think this is pathetic, wait until you see what I have planned next.”
1 Noun, German: Longing, desire, yearning, or craving.
47
IRIS
“Are we almost there?”
When Cal asked me to go on an errand with him, I thought he meant a quick trip to the grocery store. We have long passed the grocery store and any sign of civilization.
“Yes.” He taps the steering wheel to the beat of the music streaming from the radio.
“It feels like we’ve been going around in circles for hours.”