Matchmaking for Beginners(113)

He straightens up and looks at me. “I saw it right afterward. He was in the street, and he was lying down crying and I picked him up and moved him. I probably shouldn’t have moved him, but I needed to get him out of the road.”

“You picked him up?”

“I did. Well, I had to. He’s your dog.”

“Oh, Patrick! Thank you so much. I’m so glad you did. Oh my God. I get a dog, and already I’ve wrecked him.” I can’t help it; I grab him in a hug, and he lets me. He even puts his arm around me. “How did you know it had happened?”

“I heard it happen. Heard him yelp. So I went out, and the driver of the car was there. He’d pulled over and he came and talked to me. He said he never even saw him dart out.”

“No. He chases snowflakes and loses his mind. Do you think—I mean, can I see him? Oh, that poor dumb mutt!”

“Yes, we can see him. They do magical things with dog legs these days, I’ve heard.”

Andrew and Sammy are coming toward us now, and Sammy is holding back tears. Andrew has his arm around his son’s shoulders. I’ve never noticed how alike the two of them look.

“It’s my fault, Marnie,” Sammy says.

“No, it isn’t. Not at all. Bedford is his own free dog, and he should have followed you. He just got distracted in that doggie way. And you were right; he went home. He probably was chasing some snowflakes and went out into the road, because—well, I hate to say it, but he’s kind of an idiot dog. You know? Doesn’t know much about sidewalks and cars.” I hug him, too.

“I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay, sport,” says Patrick. “They’re fixing him up.” He looks at me. “Shall we go over to the animal hospital and see how they’re doing with him?”

“Yes, I’d like that,” I say. “Wait. You’ll really come with me?”

He closes his eyes for a moment. “Yes, of course I’m coming.”

Andrew says he and Sammy are going to head home, if that’s okay. “I’ve gotta get this guy into some dry clothes.”

I kiss and hug them both good-bye, and then I turn back to Patrick. “Why are you doing this? What in the name of God happened to you since I last talked to you?”

“Do you want to walk or take my truck?”

“Wait. You have a truck?”

“I have the U-Haul. That’s how I got the dog to the vet.”

“You’re so full of surprises.”

“I thought we had a moratorium on the word surprise.”

“Sometimes it’s a good word.”

We walk for a long time in silence. I keep stealing little looks at him.

“You don’t even really like him. You said you don’t have any time for dogs.”

“Yeah, well, he licked my hand. So that may mean we’re bonded for life now.”

“Patrick.”

“Yes?”

“This means more than I can say. Really.”

“I know.”

“This is like the most amazing thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

“Listen, I’m not prepared to make a big speech or anything,” he says. “I’m still a wreck. Still me. But I thought about what you said.”

“Oh my God, Patrick, you’re outside. For me.”

“Yeah, well, I want to go see how this dog of yours is doing. And I want—well, then I want to start the process where Roy and Bedford get to be friends.”

“You do? Aren’t you moving, like, in twenty minutes? Going to Wyoming?”

“And then maybe if you want we could have an exploratory preliminary talk about how ridiculous it would be if one of us is walking on the plains of Wyoming alone while the other one is in Florida. Flah-rida, as you say it. You know, as a long-term plan.” He stops walking and faces me and takes both of my hands in his leathery, stitched-together, wonderful hands, the medical miracle hands.

His eyes are luminous in the half darkness. “I probably can’t be fixed all the way, you know. There’s always going to be some . . . pain . . . and maybe some visits to that planet. The My Lover Died planet. I may have a permanent parking space there for my spaceship. But I . . . well, I need you. I don’t want to live without you.”

“Patrick . . .”

“Please. You don’t have to do this. You’re going to have to think very hard about what you want. I’m no bargain, believe me. Just tell me this. Is this—am I—I mean, could this ever be something you even want?”

I close my eyes. “So much.”

He pulls me to him and kisses me so softly. “Is that really true?” he whispers. “You want this?”

I nod. I’m about to burst into tears, so I can’t trust myself to speak.

“Okay,” he says, “so we’ll go visit Bedford. Then we have to go home and tell Roy the news. That he’s now a dog owner. He’s not going to be happy, believe me.”

We start walking again, and the sky gets dark, and yes, there may be sparkles everywhere I look, or maybe it’s just the streetlights coming on and shining on the snow. We can’t stop smiling. Smiling and walking and holding hands.

“You do know there are going to be piles of problems, right?” he says about half a block later. “This isn’t going to be like—”