Hope(less) (Judgment of the Six) Read online

  On the way to the kitchen, I noticed his wet towel on the bathroom floor. “Next time fold it over the edge of the tub,” I said. The bathroom lacked any other available space to hang a towel. I didn’t want his towel hung in my room either. That seemed a little too domestic.

  I made us both dry ham sandwiches thanks to the gas station groceries. Dry because I’d refused to pay four dollars for a miniature jar of mayo. “I’m guessing your bowl of dog food will always be full,” I said as I set his plated sandwich on the floor. Sitting at the table, I started eating my own sandwich. He finished his in two bites.

  “So, we have a week before my classes start up. What’s your plan?” He cocked his head at me. “Did you want to try to enroll in any classes? Study anything?” He lay down on the floor next to his empty plate eyeing it sadly. “Okay. Well, if you change your mind, let me know.” I washed our dishes and went back to reading. Eventually, he joined me on the couch.

  Later that night, Rachel came home with a manly spike collar and a leash. She rushed into the house, tossing her keys and purse on the table. From my position on the couch, I watched her kneel down next to Clay, who stood near his bowl of water. I wasn’t sure, but I think she’d interrupted his contemplations about drinking from the bowl. The thought made me smile.

  Trying to ignoring the pair, I focused on my book. Shuffling movement sounded from the kitchen along with a few quiet comments by Rachel. When the noises didn’t stop, I went to investigate.

  “This is a joke,” she grumbled.

  I laughed from the doorway watching them struggle. She knelt in front of Clay, face to muzzle, trying to get the collar on him. She would wrap her arms around his neck to buckle the collar and he’d duck or shift to avoid her, but never actually get up and walk away. I caught a twinkle of amusement in his canine eyes.

  Time to take pity on her. I knew how to reason with him. If Clay ever wanted to leave the house, he had to have a collar. I just needed to point that out. “Here,” I offered, holding out my hand. “I’ll try.”

  “Good luck!” she said with a laugh getting off her knees and handing me the collar. She took my position in the doorway. “It was the biggest collar they had. I don’t even know if it fits, he won’t let me get close enough.”

  I knelt in front of Clay with a half-smile on my face. I liked that he had a sense of humor when he interacted with Rachel. It made having him in the house tolerable, almost. But she wouldn’t give up getting a real collar on him. He needed proof of license. Besides, it served him right. He’s the one who chose to be a dog.

  “Clay, if you want to be able to go anywhere with us, you need a collar that we can clip a leash on. Not just the twine you have holding your tag around your neck,” I said looking him in the eye. He didn’t move so I leaned forward reaching for the string that held his current joke of a tag. He held still for me while I removed the twine and then replaced it with the real collar.

  Kneeling in front of him, I forgot myself again and treated him like a dog, patting his side consolingly. “At least it’s not pink,” I said with a smile before I realized what I was doing.

  I quickly stood and avoided Clay’s direct gaze. I needed to watch myself. The direction of my thoughts, assuming his permanent residency in the house, troubled me. Making him comfortable, buying him a license wouldn’t help me get rid of him.

  “Hey, I wouldn’t do that to him. No pink for our man,” Rachel laughed behind me. “I don’t know why he sat still for you and not me.”

  I’d forgotten about Rachel. She moved to pet him, praising him for his good behavior. If I wanted a chance of having a friend as a roommate, I knew I needed to deal with him as a pet. Besides, he’d get tired of her affection eventually and run off back to Canada. I held onto that happy thought.

  “He’s moody,” I said looking into his eyes and knowing I spoke the truth. Moody and stubborn with a quirky sense of humor. Not a good combination.

  Chapter 7

  Rachel exceeded my hopes as a roommate. After that first day of bonding, she didn’t stay home too much. When not busy working, her social life called, and she went out often. Usually, she tried talking me into going with her. Turning down her invitations didn’t seem to bother her. Unsure of our relationship, I didn’t want to risk someone Rachel had her sights on hitting on me instead.

  Living with Clay, on the other hand, didn’t flow with the same ease.

  Tuesday, he spent most of the day following me around the house. Thinking to sunbath, I went to my room to change. After our talk the day before, he didn’t attempt to follow me. When I opened the door, he sat just outside, waiting for me. His huge dog head moved up and then down as his eyes traveled the length of me from head to toe. I flushed and quickly closed the door on him to change back into shorts and tank top, opting to cut the grass instead. He sat on the porch watching me slowly push the mower back and forth. When I moved to the front, he followed me.

  Rachel’s frequent absence benefited Clay. Taking my complaint about his hygiene seriously, he showered again. I guessed he would make it a daily routine. Since he bathed and gave me privacy as I asked, I had no reason to complain when I went to bed that night and saw him lying on the foot of the bed.

  When I woke Wednesday morning with him still in fur lying next to me, I did complain. Lividly. “Now just hold on,” I whispered with a scowl, “You’re a dog. Act like one. Fur stays at the foot of the bed.”

  He grudgingly moved to his place at the foot of the bed, watching me the whole time.

  “Don’t give me your doleful eyes. This is your choice, not mine.” Then, recalling his previous talent for misinterpretation, which had caused this coed housing in the first place, I clarified, “not that you’d get to sleep next to me in your skin either. So, don’t even think about it. If you don’t like the end of the bed, you can always sleep on the floor.”

  After getting the paper, I scoured the classifieds for a beater car finding two promising ads. Both required a long walk. I fetched my bag, tucked the folded newspaper inside, and then grabbed the house keys.

  Clay beat me to the door. I scowled down at him. He patiently looked back at me. After a moment, he shook his neck, jangling his tags. Defeated, I clipped on his leash. He negotiated well without using a single word.

  Using my cell, I called ahead for the first ad and provided an estimated time when I’d arrive to look at the car. On the phone, the man sounded a bit brusque as if my planned visit inconvenienced him. Shrugging it off, I led Clay to the address. A rusty car parked on the front lawn with a for-sale sign affirmed I had the right place. A man called hello from the open garage making his way toward us.

  As he neared, his demeanor changed and I inwardly groaned. He introduced himself as Howard and looked me over with interest. Clay moved to stand between us, his stoic presence a good deterrent.

  Howard talked about the car for a bit, going through the laundry list of its deficiencies. Then he popped the hood so I could look at the engine. In the middle of Howard’s attempt to impress me with his vast mechanical knowledge, Clay sprang up between us, placing his paws on the front of the car to get a good look at the engine too. Howard yelped at Clay’s sudden move and edged away. I fought not to smile at the man’s stunned expression. At Clay’s discrete nod, I bought the car, not bothering with the second ad.

  On Friday, when I drove to the bookstore, Clay rode a very cramped shotgun and waited in the car while I made my purchases. No matter what errand I wanted to run during the week before classes started, he insisted on tagging along.

  Monday, I put my foot down when I tried leaving for my first class. He bristled, and growled, and tried to follow me.

  Thankfully, Rachel left first and didn’t hear me scolding the dog. “Your license only wins you so much freedom. Dogs aren’t allowed on campus and definitely not in the classroom.” I tried leaving again, but he stubbornly persisted. Finally, exasperated, I reminded him that he slept on my bed because of my good grace. He resentfully gave in.

  After the first week of classes, I didn’t have time to mind Clay’s constant attention. Maxing out at eighteen credits, desperate to get the general requirements out of the way so I could delve into the clinicals sooner, I spent much of my day on campus in a classroom or in the library. When I actually found myself at home, I spent my time studying. I’d known when signing up for the courses that they would occupy all of my time and prevent me from having much of a life. Other than the fact I couldn’t get a part-time job while taking the overload, I hadn’t minded the commitment.

  Even though I ignored him, Clay still stayed close to me. I realized how bored he’d grown when I came home and found one of my books on the couch, the bookmark on the wrong page. After that, I took pity on him and brought back some books I thought might interest him. The one I thought particularly clever, about Flora and Fauna of North America, I included to remind him of home. He eyed the titles dispassionately. The next day, a bookmark nestled between the pages of two of the books.

  I woke up one morning with a single word note on my dresser. It said simply, “mechanics.” The first stack of books lay next to the note.

  I turned to glare at Clay who still lounged on the end of the bed. “So you can write words to me, just not speak them?” He blinked at me. “Whatever. You’re going to get caught creeping around the house at night.”

  Later that day, I returned the books on forestry and wildlife, which I’d thought funny, and checked out several books on mechanics. For fun, I threw in a do it yourself book for home repairs.

  * * * *

  The second Friday after school began, disaster struck.

  I sat on my bed, closed in my room with Clay lying in his usual spot. He contentedly read a book next to me, his eyes devouring the words on the page. He’d spent enough time reading next to me that I’d grown used to our system, a nudge when he needed a page turned. Trying to turn it with his nose hadn’t worked out well for him, or the first book.

  When he nudged me, I absently turned his page not looking up from my own book. When he did it again, I looked up puzzled. He read fast, but not that fast. Meeting my eyes briefly, he turned his head toward the bedroom door. Just then, I heard the front door open, and froze when I heard Rachel talking to someone.

  “…and this is where I live. Please, have a seat and I’ll change quickly. My roommate and our dog should be around here somewhere.”

  A man answered, “No rush. Our reservations aren’t until six.”

  I turned wide eyes to Clay. Rachel had brought a date home. I didn’t have time to think about it further because a knock sounded on my door. I wanted to ignore it, but instead I quickly closed the book in front of Clay and said, “Come in.”

  Rachel walked into the room dressed in scrubs. Her smile and flushed cheeks spoke volumes, as did the way she tactfully closed the door behind her.

  “There you are. Come meet Peter.” She walked close and leaned in to whisper, “Don’t kill me, but he’s got a friend without a date tonight and I said I had a friend without a date tonight. Please come with.”

  I groaned quietly. “Don’t do this to me, Rachel,” I begging back. “This won’t end well and you’ll probably never forgive me.”

  “Come on… please?” she pleaded, sitting on the bed next to me. “I really like this one.”

  I closed my book. “That’s the problem. Remember what I said? It’s always a guy that ruins a friendship. I don’t want to go out tonight.” I looked at Clay from the corner of my eye. He glared at Rachel. Not good. Too human. I nudged him with a foot and distracted Rachel by adding quietly, “I like having a friend.”

  Rachel smiled and tried to reassure me by saying, “If he hits on you, then it wasn’t meant to be. Don’t worry so much.” She pulled me off the bed and I reluctantly followed with Clay close behind.

  Peter, a pleasant looking man with light blonde hair and blue eyes, stood when we walked into the living room. Standing an inch shorter than Rachel, he seemed her polar opposite. He smiled at Rachel, having eyes only for her. I sagged with relief.

  “Peter, this is Gabby. Gabby, this is Peter. He’s going to med school. I bumped into him in the library last week. Peter, why don’t you tell her about Scott, while I go get dressed?”

  Rachel left the room in a rush probably so I couldn’t retreat myself. I smothered a grin watching Peter’s gaze follow Rachel from the room. It took him a moment to collect himself.

  “Nice to meet you, Gabby.”

  “You too. Want to sit?” I motioned him back to the couch, and took the single chair for myself. Clay settled himself on the floor between us. “This is Clay.”

  “He’s huge,” Peter said, appearing to notice Clay for the first time.

  A huge pain in the butt, I thought without any malice. “Yeah,” I said instead. “So, who’s Scott?”

  “Oh, a friend of mine,” Peter said looking up from Clay. “He’s also in med school. We had plans to go to O’Donell’s tonight for dinner and a drink or two. Then, I ran into Rachel and invited her with. We thought it’d be more fun if you could join us.”

  Rachel waltzed back into the room at that moment. Amazingly, she had already changed into a skirt and complimenting silky top. Hearing Peter’s last comment she said, “Of course you will, won’t you, Gabby?”

  Cornered by two love struck fools who probably wouldn’t even notice if I went with or not if it weren’t for the third wheel Scott, I agreed. “Sure, but I need to be home early enough to let Clay out.” A lame excuse, but I needed to prep the idea now so I would have an out later. A public restaurant… this wouldn’t be enjoyable.

  “I’m sure he’ll be fine for that little while.” Rachel waved her hand dismissively at Clay. Clay huffed, but she didn’t notice. Instead, she shooed me toward my room saying, “Go get dressed.”

  I stood to go to my room, but Clay leapt to his feet in front of me. I stepped to the right to go around him, but he mirrored my move.

  Rachel laughed from behind me. “Come here Clay,” she called cajolingly. “Come here and let Gabby get ready.” She squatted down and patted her leg.

  I’d seen her do this a few times before and Clay usually, grudgingly responded. Not this time though. He kept his gaze focused on mine and copied my feinted attempts to get around him.

  “I’ve never seen him act like this,” Rachel commented to Peter.

  I kept my narrowed gaze on Clay.

  “I’m surprised you have such a wild looking dog. It seems too big compared to the house and the two of you.” Peter eyed Clay warily.

  Giving up, I dropped to my knees and wrapped my arms around his thick neck pretending to hug him so I could whisper to him. “I’m not crazy about the idea either, but you have to let me go, and stop acting weird.”

  I stood and scratched him behind the ear as a pet owner would do. “Ready to be good Clay?” He turned and trotted into my room. Nope, not ready to be good.

  Rachel laughed again. She knew I usually kicked him out when I wanted to change and had teased me about it already. I’d pointed out she wouldn’t know how awkward it felt because he never tried to watch her change, but she’d only continued to tease me.

  Resolutely, I followed Clay into my room and closed the door. I could just barely hear Peter and Rachel talking as they waited for me. Clay sat on my bed, as usual, watching me intently.

  I folded my arms, and whispered, “I am not changing in front of you.” He just settled down onto my comforter and continued to watch me with an eerie canine smile. “Fine. I’ll change in the bathroom.”

  I went to my closet and started looking at my clothes already knowing very few things in there compared to the style Rachel wore. The skirt I bought a few weeks ago would look nice, but would scream ‘come hit on me’. Biting my lip, I reached for the skirt. Clay started growling fiercely behind me.

  “Zip it,” I mumbled and grabbed a fitted cowl neck top with three-quarter sleeves. One of the dressier tops I owned.

  Clay started barking, a deep menacing bark that raised the little hairs on the back of my neck. I spun toward him saying, “What the hell Clay! Cut it out.” I knew he didn’t like that, because he got louder.

  Rachel burst in without knocking and Peter followed right behind her. “What’s wrong?” She looked at Clay, who continued to bark at me.

  If possible, he grew even louder and I had to yell over him. “Nothing. Just give me a few minutes to calm him down okay?” I walked to Clay with the clothes still under one arm and he growled at me. I faltered, eyeing him with a growing hint of fear.

  “Uh, I’m not so sure you should do that right now,” Peter cautioned, concern on his face.

  Clay turned and started barking at Peter.

  “Enough!” I shouted, getting seriously angry. My voice echoed in the small room apparently taking Clay by surprise because the noise stopped. However, his attitude hadn’t changed. Teeth still exposed in fierce snarl, his glared at all of us. At least he’d finished barking and growling. For the moment.

  I turned toward Peter and Rachel. Wanting them to leave, I said, “I’m fine. Thank you. Just give me a few minutes to change.”

  They left the room, shutting the door behind them, after sharing a glance.

  Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath. Without trying, I could “see” Clay in a painful burst of light. A first. My other vision usually required an amount of focus. Whatever his issue, it still affected him.

  With a sigh, I opened my eyes and turned to him. He looked seriously pissed.

  “Will you bite me if I sit next to you Clay?” I asked him quietly. He snorted and I watched the silent snarl ease from his muzzle. His hackles slowly laid flat. He’d been up on all fours at the end of my bed, but when he settled on his hunches, I knew he’d calmed down and sat next to him, facing the door.

  “You know, I don’t understand dog right?” I turned my head to meet his gaze, our faces close together, with him looking down at me. “It’d be so much easier to know what was wrong if you just told me.”