Page 72 of Carter

“Both,” I admit. “I’m afraid that someone will take her and not treat her right. Or not have enough patience and bring her back, or worse—bring her somewhere else because they’re afraid they won’t be able to return her. Or that she’ll see all the other animals going home, but then she’s left here all by herself…”

“Valid concerns, Carter.” He squeezes a little tighter. “All of them. But try not to worry about it now. We’ll see where we’re at when the event is done.”

I nod, and he pulls me closer in a sort of hug. My arms itch to wrap around him, but I don’t think this is supposed to be that, so I settle on resting my head against his chest, which somehow feels even more intimate. I stay there until Rose says she’s opening the doors.

I can’t take my eyes off Nash. Because he’s new and doesn’t know his way around the building as well as everyone else, he was designated as an applicationer, while I’m a meeter. Meeters know a lot about the specific animals so that way we can find the right fit. I’m the only volunteer in this position, all the others are workers, because I’ve been here the longest and the most consistently. Most of the volunteers are handling applications because it’s the easiest part.

Now and then, Nash will turn to the person he’s sharing a table with to ask them a question. I don’t know what about it is intriguing me. See him interacting with people in a non-detective sort of way? But what’s interesting about that?

Mostly when I see him, he’s speaking with someone who is filling out an application, walking them through it like he’s done it a hundred times. He’s smiling so much. This friendly, welcoming, warm smile that could be on a fucking billboard. It makes my stomach hurt.

A few people are interested in Teddy because they saw her photo on the Adoption Option Board—until I explain her needs. Their faces fall and they decide she’s too much work, even if they don’t say it out loud. I get it. Been there, done that. But the right person will come along for her. They will. They have to. She deserves a good life, to be happy and spoiled and not scared all the time. She deserves it, just like everyone else.

The event lasts four hours, and by the end of it, I’m exhausted. Everyone else must be too. I’m trying to organize all the dog collars and leashes by size, since they got mixed up during the adoptions. All dogs get a collar, leash, and bandanna when they’re adopted.

“Hey, Carter?” Hazel calls out.

“Yeah, I’m here!”

“We got one more applicant up here.”

Can’t deny that, and I’m almost done anyway. I’ll finish up after. There are a few animals left, and if there is a chance they can be adopted, well, we have to do it.

I head out to the front and see a mother standing with who I assume is her son, who is in a lime green and black wheelchair.

“This is Carter. He’ll take you to see Teddy,” Hazel says with a smile, gesturing toward me.

“Teddy?” I ask, looking from Hazel to the family.

Hazel nods, giving me a reassuring smile. “Yes, they’re very interested.”

“Hazel explained Teddy’s needs, and well…” She looks down at her son with a loving look. “I honestly think she’d be perfect for our family.”

I look at the little boy who can’t be more than ten, smiling so big that I can’t help but smile back. He makes a happy sound that warms my heart. He’s super sweet with messy dark hair and bright blue eyes.

“Okay, I’ll take you back.” I smile even though my nerves are eating at me. I’m scared for her.

The mother navigates her son through the halls as we make our way back to the kennels. I hold all the doors open for her, and she thanks me with a kind smile. They seem like good people. Calm vibes. Soft smiles. Friendly. Understanding. These are the kind of people Teddy could like, and I’m not here to judge, but can this woman handle a dog with so many needsandher son? It’s not my business or my choice to make for her, but the scared part of me is not always nice. This woman knows herself better than I do—obviously because I don’t know her from a hole in the wall—but there is still a part of me that wants Teddy for myself.

The room is empty; all the dogs having been adopted. Except Teddy. We make our way down the walkway, the empty cages messy and in need of cleaning. We stop right before Teddy’s cage, and I turn to them.

“Teddy is very special to me. I spend a lot of time with her, so I know herverywell. She’s skittish, but not aggressive. Never aggressive. She needs a lot of patience and slow movements. She’s had accidents from being scared, but she is house trained.”

“Hazel explained that to us, and we’re still here,” she says kindly. “I think her and Ryan will bond so well together.”

My body runs ice cold.

“Did you say Ryan?” The words come out as a raspy sound, as my vision tunnels and my skin prickles.

“Yes,” she says, running her hand over her son’s head. “Ryan loves dogs so much. He’s been wanting one since he knew what they were.” He makes a sound that sounds like a laugh and lifts his arms up a little, like he wants to be excited but his body won’t entirely let him.

“His name is Ryan?” I ask, looking from her to him. I know I’m being weird, and I don’t want to scare them, but… is this real?

“Yeah, I know it’s one of those common names, but—”

“It’s not boring,” I cut in, my nerves settling. “It’s an amazing name. The best name. Right up there with Teddy.” I smile at the woman, fighting tears in my eyes because I can’t let them see me cry. Not over this. How would I explain it? I don’t need to depress them. “Let’s meet her.”

Forty-five minutes later, I’m helping Teddy to the van with Heather and Ryan, trying to fight back tears that haven’t stopped trying to come out since I found out the kid’s name.