Operation Kindness

Drew scanned the perimeter of the animal shelter without thinking, checking exit points, the parking lot, analyzing the situation. His military experience was ingrained. Which was exactly the problem Emily was having with him.

Sweet Emily. When he got back home, he hadn’t been able to describe to her how the letters and video calls had kept him sane during deployment. What might have happened if he hadn’t focused on coming home to her?

He took a few more minutes before shutting off the engine, noting the balloons on the sign highlighting “Operation Kindness Adoption Event.” He jumped out of his truck, ground his cigarette on the pavement, and then carefully picked up the butt to deposit it in the trash can by the front door. Emily hated careless smokers. In fact, he suspected she kind of hated smokers.

Drew paused at the door, hearing the barking dogs. The noise sent an electric finger down his spine and instantly he pictured himself back on that roof.  They’d been camped out for two days, monitoring the street below after hearing that insurgents were expected to enter the city from the north. It had been late in the day, the sun low in the sky, when a couple of strays ran up to the back of the building and started barking at Henderson who was moving near the edge. A stray dog was the sniper’s worst enemy. Henderson pulled his rifle to aim, but Drew had been quicker, throwing a rock and causing the two dogs to run off down the alley.

He shook off the memory and pushed open the door, knowing Emily would be closing the place down. Still, he was anxious, every sense on high alert.

He walked behind the front counter and through the door to the back hallway. There, behind a window, was Emily. Even holding a sprayer of disinfectant and shoving stray auburn hair away from her tired face, she was beautiful. Once again, he felt the frustration of not being able to change his habits the way she wanted. To relax and be a regular guy, not haunted by echoes of explosions. He summoned up a cheery smile and pulled open the Visiting Room door.

“Hey, baby. How’s it going?”

Her face lit up and she threw her arms around him. He smelled the chlorine of the disinfectant and felt the spray bottle bump against his back, but, more importantly, he smelled her. The scent of vanilla clung to her hair; he smelled the musky mix of sweat and dog food and he felt her soft curves press against him. He instantly relaxed.

“We had an awesome day! So many adoptions!” She pulled away to make a last swipe across a plastic chair and closed the jar of wipes on the window ledge. She switched off the light and he trailed her out of the room.

The barking in the back hadn’t let up. He heard clicking on the tile floor a few minutes before he saw a blur round the corner. He didn’t even think; he just reacted. He grabbed Emily’s waist with his left arm, pushed the nearest door handle with his right, and pulled her into the closet, slamming the door behind them. Then he froze, holding her in the darkness.

“What are you doing!” she yelled. She pushed away, reached for the light switch, and glared as he waited in stillness, listening to the scratching at the door.

“What was that?” Drew said. He started to suspect he may have overreacted.

“It was Gypsy. I let her run around while I was cleaning up.” She shook her head and tried the door. Locked. She looked puzzled before realization hit.

“They messed up the handle for this room, and you have to have a key to open it from the inside. Shit.”

She tapped her pocket and realized she didn’t have her cell phone with her. She looked at Drew. “Cell phone?”

“No.”

She slumped against the door. “What were you thinking?”

He could tell from her face she was tired of dealing with post-traumatic stress and was completely in the dark about how his mind worked. He sensed he was running out of time with Emily. He could hear Gypsy scratching at the other side of the door. He jiggled the door handle and then peered at the crack between the jamb and the door. Gypsy started whimpering and slipping her paw under the door.

“It’s ok, Gypsy. We’re here.” Hearing Emily’s voice made Gypsy start to claw at the door.

Drew took another look at the lock and then pulled his credit card out of his wallet. He slid it between the door and the doorjamb and angled it until he felt the lock pop. He felt a flood of relief as he pushed the handle and opened the door.

Gypsy jumped, first against Drew and then to Emily, who bent over, rubbing Gypsy and assuring her everything was alright.  Drew felt a pang of jealousy.

Out in the parking lot, Emily was quiet as they walked toward his truck. In fact, she hadn’t said a word to him since they’d escaped from the closet. In the short walk from the building to the passenger door, it took everything he had to summon up words. Not the words he wanted, but something.

“I know I don’t talk about what I’m feeling. Most of the time I’m busy trying to not feel what I’m feeling. But, I, uh….  Please stick with me.” He wanted to say she was important. He wanted to say he loved her. He wanted to say he needed her. Instead, he waited.

She looked at her feet. The evening breeze lifted the wisps of hair around her face. Finally, she looked up at him. “I’m with you, no matter what.”

She hopped up into her seat, he shut her door, and he let out a breath. Next time. Next time he would tell her how much he loved her.

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