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“Okay, so please don’t be mad,” Evan says almost before Tommy has the chance to shut the door behind him.
Tommy’s still carrying his work duffle and has only managed to kick one shoe off and his working on the other and Evan is standing at the entry to their kitchen almost like he’s hiding from Tommy, or he wants to. He’s ringing his hands in a way Tommy finds particularly adorable and Tommy has to kiss him about it, quickly dropping his duffle to the entryway floor and traversing the length of the hall with one shoe still on. He sweeps Evan up into a hug and gives him a quick peck on the cheek, holding Evan against himself, he asks, “And what am I not being mad about?”
For all his previous worry, Evan relaxes into the circle of Tommy’s arms and leans his head on Tommy’s shoulder so that his curls are tickling Tommy’s chin. Tommy is almost too distracted by the tea tree scent of Evan’s shampoo to register what he’s saying.
“So, we were working this structure fire,” Evan begins and Tommy’s first concern is that maybe Evan sustained some sort of injury on the call, but if that’s the case it must not be too bad because otherwise someone from the 118 would have called him. And if it’s a minor injury, Evan’s not acting like he’s bothered by anything. That doesn’t mean that Evan’s not hiding something – that’s something they’ve talked about: Tommy wanting to know when Evan’s hurt even if he doesn’t think it’s a big deal. Evan’s been better about it recently, but there’s always the potential that he’s lapsing into bad habits.
Tommy thinks all this while he listens to Evan describe the scene. “An abandoned warehouse. Not sure what started the fire. There were a couple of squatters – they got out okay and called the fire in. I’m thinking it was something electrical, but I’m not arson investigator so what do I know.”
“I’m sure you’d be an excellent arson investigator,” Tommy says as he toes his second shoe off before he got too uncomfortable standing on slightly uneven legs.
“Thanks.” Evan does his adorable little head bob.
“I still haven’t heard anything that would make me mad,” says Tommy. “Sounds like it was a pretty straightforward scene.”
“I’m getting to that part,” says Evan, giving Tommy’s shoulder a gentle nudge with his forehead before continuing. “Anyway, we get the fire contained and I’m checking for hotspots when I hear this whining sound coming from under a caved in concrete wall. So, I call Eddie over and we shift the rubble and there’s a dog.”
“Ah,” says Tommy.
Evan slips out of the circle of Tommy’s arms and retrieves his phone. “Just look at her first,” he says, shoving his phone into Tommy’s face.
“Still not mad,” says Tommy accepting Evan’s phone and glancing down at a photo of a small dog – maybe fifteen pounds, emaciated, with black and tan colouring as far as he can tell under a layer of soot. She’s got a long body and short stubby legs and ears that stand straight up from her skull: some sort of dachshund mix, Tommy thinks. “Cute.”
“Right?” says Evan. “So, I take her to the vet, and she doesn’t have a microchip, and she hasn’t been spayed and the vet said she’s probably been out on her own for a while.”
“You want to keep her,” says Tommy. He stares at the photo of the small dog, looking even smaller when held against Evan’s broad chest.
“I kinda already told the vet we would,” Evan says making a little distance between them as he shrugs.
Tommy hates that Evan has learned to do that: to make himself smaller when asking for something he wants. Tommy leans in and hooks a finger around Evan’s belt loop, dragging him back in as he slides Evan’s phone into his back pocket and then slides his hand further down to give his boyfriend a gentle squeeze. “I’m not opposed to us having a dog,” Tommy says.
“I know,” says Evan. “But we said we’d wait until after we got the French drain put in in the back yard. But I couldn’t just leave her, and Bobby already said I could bring her to the station while we’re working, so we don’t need to worry about boarding her while we’re both on shift. He said something about her being a good representative for our school outreach program if I can train her. She’s too old to do the training for arson detection, but we could take her to schools when we teach stop, drop, and roll. Kind of like a mascot.”
“You do like talking to kids about fire safety,” Tommys says, burying his nose in Evan’s clavicle and relishing the freshly-showered, freshly-laundered scent of his boyfriend. “You could get her a little helmet and turnout coat.”
“That would be so cute!” Evan exclaims and even though Tommy’s eyes are closed against Evan’s shoulder he can picture Evan’s pale blue eyes lighting up at the idea. “So, you’re not mad?” Evan checks.
Tommy straightens and puts his hands on Evan’s shoulders, meeting his gaze. “If it had been me that found her, I would have done the same thing. Besides, how could I be mad that my big-hearted guy rescued a dog from a fire? I’m more mad that I haven’t gotten to meet her yet. Where is she?” Tommy peers around Evan into the kitchen, but could sees no hint of a dog. “Back yard?”
Evan shakes his head. “The vet wanted to keep her over night to monitor her for any complications from smoke inhalation. Then they’re going to spay her and implant a microchip. We’ll probably be able to pick her up tomorrow afternoon.”
“Which we both have off.” Tommy grins, finding himself excited at the prospect of meeting their new dog. Most people looking at Tommy would probably assume he’s a big dog kind of guy: German Shepherds, St. Bernard, Pit Bull, but most people would be wrong. Tommy’s always been drawn to the little dogs: Pomeranians, miniature Poodles, Terriers.
“You’re really not mad?” Evan asks.
“Really,” says Tommy, sealing the word with a kiss before moving around Evan and entering the kitchen. He beelines for the fridge and grabs one beer for himself and another for Evan. “Now, how about we order some pizza, and you can show me your list of supplies we’ll be picking up for her tomorrow morning.” He uncaps the beers and leads Evan into the living room where they plop down on the sofa together, Tommy’s arm stretched out behind Evan’s back as Evan shows Tommy the list he’s made on his tablet.
“I was just starting to look into the pros and cons of a raw food diet when I heard you pull up,” Evan explains as Tommy sips his beer and squints at the screen.
Evan chuckles at him and then shifts forward on the sofa, reaching for Tommy’s reading glasses which are safely stashed on the coffee table. “Here you go, old man,” he teases.
Tommy sticks his tongue out at Evan, but accepts the glasses, settling them on his nose. “Much better.”
Together they read through some articles Evan has bookmarked about dry food versus wet food versus raw food and various combinations. Once they settle on a raw food brand that looks suitable, Evan adds it to his pre-existing list along with a brand of gentle-on-the stomach kibble to help transition her onto the raw food diet without upsetting her digestion with the sudden change.
“What are we gonna call her?” Tommy asks.
“I have a list,” Evan says switching tabs.
The next afternoon, after a morning spent purchasing beds, food, toys, bowls, collar and leash, a supply of treats and poo bags, they drive to the vet. Evan bounces his knee nervously as they wait for the vet tech to bring out their dog.
Tommy would try to reassure Evan that everything’s going to fine, only he’s feeling somewhat nervous himself. What if she doesn’t like him? What if she’s scared of him? What if they can’t handle raising a dog together and this is the thing that breaks their relationship? That last thought, Tommy knows is just him catastrophizing. Their relationship is strong enough to survive a fifteen-pound dog. He hopes. He tucks his hands under his arm pits to keep from chewing his nails.
“What’s taking so long,” Evan wonders out loud.
“They’re probably just checking she’s alright,” says Tommy sounding a lot calmer than he feels. “They said on the phone that her surgery went well and that she doesn’t seem to be suffering any side effects of smoke inhalation. She doesn’t even have any burns. That concrete must have protected her in the fire.”
“She’s lucky,” Evan says.
“Yes, she is,” Tommy agrees. Lucky she was found by Evan. Tommy knows a little something about what that feels like. “It’s not on the list, but maybe we could call her Lucky?”
Evan grins and just then, the vet tech emerges from the back of the clinic carrying their very groggy looking dog, her head ensconced in a hard plastic cone to keep her from licking or chewing her stitches.
Tommy and Evan rise to their feet together and then vet tech hands the little dog off to Evan. “There you go, sweetheart. Your daddies are going to take you home now.”
And hearing that does something to Tommy, and he knows they’re not ready for kids yet. They’re both to busy, but some day. He blinks to keep his eyes from misting up further and looks down at the dog lounging in Evan’s arms like an ancient roman noble woman being carried through the streets by her attendants perfectly comfortable.
Tommy offers her the back of his hand to sniff.
She does him one better and licks his knuckles and his heart – already so full with love for Evan – swells with warm affection. He smiles and gives her chin a tentative scratch. She leans into his fingers. And her head is so small compared to the size of his hand that for a moment he’s terrified he’ll break her.
As if sensing his anxiety, she licks his hand again, her big brown eyes gazing up at him from Evan’s arms with such certainty that Tommy’s struck by a sudden calm. She’s stronger than she looks.
“I think she likes you,” says Evan. And then he places the dog in Tommy’s arms. She tries to climb up onto his shoulder and lick his face, but her cone butts into his chin.
“Thank God for that.” Tommy adjusts his grip on her so that his arm runs under the length of her body, her chest cupped in his hand, and he tucks her under his arm. “What do you say girl, are you Lucky?” Her tail wags against his elbow and the little dog perks her ears up. Tommy laughs. He’s already so in love with her ears, like her own little satellite antennae.
“So cute,” he hears Evan say and Tommy looks up to see Evan lowering his phone from taking a picture.
“We’re getting that framed,” Tommy says, not even needing to look at the photo to know that he wants to preserve the memory of this moment in pride of place above the mantel.
Once they pay the vet bill – Evan make a mental note to get pet insurance – they pile into the car, Evan driving and Tommy in the passenger seat with Lucky on his lap. She falls asleep to the motion of the car despite the stop and start nature of the freeway traffic. “I’m so glad you’re not mad,” Evan says.
Tommy shakes his head. “How could I ever be mad at you for bringing more love into my life?” he asks. Because, even though he’s only just met this little dog – their little Lucky – he loves her already.