“Thank you so much.” I put my hand out and shake the doctor’s.
After writing a few things down in the chart, the doctor leaves Muffler and me in the room. He still hasn’t said a word about what I know he just heard me ask the doctor. My stomach clenches when I hear him get out of his chair and walk in my direction. He stares at me, not saying a word. It gets so intense that I’m the one to break the silence.
“What? Are you going to talk to me now?” It’s a legit question, but the words come out way bitchier than I intended for them to be.
“You really want to give this baby making another go?”
“Absolutely, I’m ready, Muffler. It’s a tragedy that we lost our first baby, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be blessed with another. I don’t want to wait. If you do, that’s okay. I just need you to let me know.”
“I’m with whatever you want to do, but I have an idea to help with the baby fever. At least that’s what I heard other people call it.”
I squint my eyes at him. What could he be up to that would help me? “What?”
“Come on, it’s a surprise.”
* * *
“You thought this was going to help me . . . get over having a child?” I snarl at him as I sit in the car and stare out the front window.
His eyes go wide, and he stutters for a second. He wasn’t expecting me to be furious, but how could he not?
“Muffler, this isn’t a fucking joke to me. I’m not just saying I want a child because it’s a fad. I want to start a family, not a fucking farm!” I slam my back against the car seat and cross my arms over my chest.
“No, you got it wrong, Beretta. I’m not bringing you here to replace us having a child, but you and I both know that it takes time. I simply brought you here for you to have a mini companion in the meantime. They say pets are kids too.”
He sighs and pulls my arms away from my chest, so he can hold them in his. “Look, I think this can be a great way for you to have a little bit of normalcy. A way for you not to be so stressed out month after month about having the child. We can start tomorrow, but the baby won’t be here for another ten months at least. I just want to make sure that you’re at ease.” He shakes his head slightly and stares at me, waiting for my response. “If you don’t want to do this, we can go home.”
I look back at the entrance of the pound and then to Muffler. This is his way of doing something to fix the problem. The physical act that he needs to show me that he’s trying to make it better. The cracks inside my soul from losing this baby can’t be fixed with a new puppy, but at least he’s trying.
“Oh, you’re lucky I like dogs,” I grumble and get out of the car. I do my best to keep my agitation at a peak level, but when Muffler runs up behind me and grabs hold of my hand, with a smile on his face, I can’t.
“Ugh! You’re so annoying,” I joke and push at his arm.
“Yeah, well, you’re stuck with me.” He shrugs.
He’s right.
The minute we open the door and I hear the sweet yips and yaps of all those pups, I’m melting on the inside. If I could take each and every one of them home, I would.
We walk around the pound for what seems like hours, and I stop at the majority of the cages, touching and loving on all the puppies that want to be loved. By the time my feet start hurting, I’ve already found two that I just can’t choose between. One smaller little Yorkie terrier mix and another larger shepherd mix.
The bigger dog really seems to take to Muffler, who spent most of the time playing with him.
“Two?” I put my fingers up and look at Muffler, hopefully.
“Two?” he questions with wide, overwhelmed eyes.
It only takes a little pout, and he’s off to find the assistant so we can adopt the two newest members of our family. I have that man wrapped around my finger, and I love it.
CHAPTERNINE
Muffler
“How the hell did you talk me into buying all this shit?” I ask Beretta after we pull out the last bag from the back of the truck. I figured we’d get some dog food, bowls, and maybe a dog bed for the two dogs. Instead, we ended up getting a whole room’s worth of shit.
While she was picking it up at the store, I could see why the dogs would need it, but now that we’re back home, and I’m staring at dozens of bags of shit, I’m starting to second guess the purchases.
“Oh, stop it. You know they need it! You want them to be happy, right?” She puts her hand on her waist, the leashes wrapped around her wrist, one for each dog.