Until Trevor (Until, #2)(22)
“Hi,” I say, walking over to the cage. On the door is some information about the animal. I see that it’s a girl, and they don’t know how old she is, just that someone found her on the side of the road and brought her in. The information packet explains that she’s very friendly, and she seems to be house trained. I squat down in front of her, pressing my hand flat against the cage. Her paw comes up to my hand, and then her wet nose presses against my skin. I put my fingers through the chain link to give her a scratch. “You’re a sweet girl, aren’t you?” I look at Trevor, who has squatted next to me. He doesn’t look too sure about her, but I am; if he doesn’t want her, I'm going to call Mike and see if he will allow me to have a dog. I grab Trevor’s hand and put it against the chain link; she smells him, then licks his palm. “She likes you.”
“So she’s the one, huh?” he asks, looking around at all the other cages. I start to do the same thing, when she whines, pawing the door of the cage. I laugh, sticking my fingers back through to her.
“She’s perfect, don’t you think?” His eyes meet mine, and there is such warmth there, that I hold my breath.
“Yeah, she’s perfect.” He leans forward to kiss me, and then pulls me up to stand with him. “What do you want to name her?” He looks at the card, and then back at me.
“Lolly?” I say, and she barks, making me laugh again.
“Well, let’s go sign the paperwork so we can get Lolly home.” We walk towards the front of the kennel, out the metal doors, and up towards reception.
“Did y’all see one ya liked?” the lady behind the counter asks, smiling. She has on a pair of bright blue scrubs with puppies playing soccer on them. Her nametag says her name is Mabel, and with her white hair pulled back in a loose bun, she looks like a typical southern grandma.
“The Rottweiler in cage seventeen,” Trevor tells her.
“Aw, she’s so sweet. I took her home with me last weekend and she was so good with my grandbabies! You two got any kids?” she asks, looking between us. I started to say no.
“Not yet,” Trevor says, putting his arm around my waist, his thumb hooking on the inside of my jeans. I know I'm completely stiff; I don’t want kids. I told Trevor that the other day when he asked me if I wanted children. Apparently, he only hears what he wants.
“You two will sure make some pretty babies.” I can feel my hands start to sweat at her comment. I love kids, but every time I even think about having my own, I feel panicked. I'm not so delusional that I don’t know exactly where my anxiety comes from. My dad died when I was young. I was abandoned, and don’t want to have a kid and do the same thing to them. Will I get over it one day? I don’t know; but right now, the thought of having children makes me feel nauseous.
I grab the paperwork from her and go to sit down in one of the chairs, trying to get my thoughts back under control. When Trevor comes over to sit down, he looks me over, then leans in like he’s going to kiss me. I lean back; maybe it’s petty, but he needs to hear me and what I'm saying, not whatever he has made up in his head. “I told you the other day that I don’t want kids. That’s not something that is going to change.”
“So, never? You never want kids?” My heart breaks a little in that moment; the thought of never having a child makes me want to curl up and cry, but the thought of having one makes me feel sick.
“I don’t know, to be honest with you.” I look down at my hands, watching my knuckles turn white from squeezing the pen in my hand so tightly. “And I'm sorry; if that’s a deal breaker, then we should just stop right now before feelings get involved.” I look up into his eyes; they are warmly looking into mine, but they’re also concerned. He leans forward, taking my hand and removing the pen.
“Aren’t feelings already involved?” he asks, running his thumb over the back of my hand. I know mine are; I search his eyes, seeing my same feelings reflected back at me. He nods his head, then put his forehead to mine. “We’re going to talk about this. Not right now, not tomorrow, but soon, and when we do, you’re going to be honest with me. And then I'm going to set you straight by telling you that you not giving the gift of your love, kindness, and strength to a child of your own would be a tragedy.” Wow. My breath catches, and I can feel my nose start to sting with tears. I can’t believe that Trevor Mayson can be so sweet. He kisses my forehead, his lips lingering there. “Now, let’s get this done so we can get our dog home.”
“Okay,” I whisper, wiping away a stray tear. We finish filling out the paperwork, which seems to take a lot longer than I expected; you would think that we are trying to apply to work for the Secret Service with the kind of questions they ask.
“So, do y’all want me to get some dog food for ya? At least enough to hold you over for tonight?” I look up at Trevor, realizing that I know nothing about having a dog. I hope he has more experience than I do with this.
“The pet store in town will still be open; so we’ll just stop in there on our way home and get all of the supplies we need for her.”
“Aw, see? Y’all are going to make great parents.” She smiles, and my hands start to get sweaty again. “Let me just put y’all in the system, then I’ll go get her for ya.” She takes our paperwork and starts typing away on the computer; once she’s done, she pulls a new leash out of a plastic bag, stands, and walks to the back room. My heartbeat picks up. I'm excited about this; at first, when Trevor said we were going to get a dog, I didn’t know what to think. Now, knowing that Lolly was going to be going home with us, I was excited. When the door opens, Lolly sees us and starts barking.