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Spring was quickly becoming Maria’s least favorite season.
Warmer days meant snowmelt. Snowmelt meant the trees would soon burst into bud. And that meant foaling. Jackson’s livestock all flowered in abundance, too, the animals’ heavy bellies and new little ones a stark contrast to Maria’s own stubbornly flat abdomen. As the world sprang to life, Maria retreated inside of herself, making herself busy with the work of the town, staying late at her office and rising early to dive into the next project.
It was something Tommy felt acutely.
He didn’t have to be a mind-reader to understand what made her turn away from him at night, nor the reasons why, when they did make love, she was far away, her eyes clouded and distant.
They’d been trying to have a child for years, and after three miscarriages, they still had nothing to show for it.
“It’s stress,” Tommy had said one evening, as he sat behind Maria on their bed, kneading her shoulders.
Maria snorted. “This world isn’t gonna get any less stressful.” Then she’d taken a deep breath, her shoulders sagging under his hands. “Besides, who knows for sure? It could be anything. Could be that I just can’t...” Her breath hitched.
“Oh, baby,” Tommy murmured, gathering her up in his arms and kissing the side of her neck. “Whether we can or we can’t, I don’t care.”
“I care,” she said, her voice thick. Everything in him ached for her, even more than for himself. Maria could be hard on people, with her high expectations, but he knew she held the highest expectations for herself.
“I know you do,” he said. “I know how badly you want this. I want it, too. But I love you. No matter what happens, we’ll get through this together.”
But even so, she remained far away from him, even as she lay in his arms.
It was Earl who made the discovery.
He, Tommy, and a group of three others were out on a hunting trip; it was their last day in the woods before they returned to Jackson. They’d gotten a pretty good haul -- two deer -- and when Tommy heard Earl shout, he wondered if the older man had spotted yet another.
“He knows better than to scare ’em off,” Tommy muttered to himself as he raced through the trees, following the sound of Earl’s voice. “Son of a bitch better not be in trouble.”
But as Tommy closed in, he heard another sound -- one he hadn’t heard in years, one that was still familiar.
“What the...?”
Earl was squatting in a clearing, laughing, and something was wriggling in his arms. And barking.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Tommy said, coming up to crouch next to Earl.
A gray puppy looked back at Tommy, its tongue hanging out. It gave a tiny yip before it freed itself from Earl’s grasp and pounced on Tommy, licking his hands with gusto.
Tommy let out a loud laugh. “Hey there, buddy,” he said to the dog. He looked up at Earl, who was grinning with delight. “You’re not gonna ask me if we can keep him, are you?”
“Fuck no,” Earl said, still smiling, “he likes you better than me, anyways.”
Tommy looked down at the small dog racing circles around him. He sighed.
“Not sure there’s much use for a dog in Jackson,” he said as the puppy came to a halt in front of him. It wagged its tail expectantly.
“Maybe he’ll grow up to be a guard dog,” Earl offered.
Tommy snorted. “Doubt it. “ Then he frowned. “Hate to leave such a little thing out here, though.”
In the distance, the other members of their hunting party were calling their names.
“Better think fast, Chief,” Earl said. He winked and added, “Can’t ask the missus for permission from all the way out here.”
“The...?” Tommy blinked, a plan suddenly forming in his mind. He scooped the dog up and held it under his arm like a football. It barked, waving its paws, but otherwise didn’t struggle.
“C’mon,” Tommy said, leading Earl back toward their group. “Time to go home.”
“Tommy, I really do not have time for this.”
“Won’t be that much longer, I swear.”
He had his hands over her eyes and was gently guiding her from her office in the town square back to their house.
“I know you’re taking me home, Firefly, I’m not an idiot,” she said. Her tone was sharp, but Tommy couldn’t help but crack a smile at her old nickname for him.
“Then you’ll know there’s three steps here,” he said.
She padded up gingerly, but not quietly enough. Inside, the dog barked.
Maria stopped in her tracks, Tommy crashing into her back and clamping his hands a little too tightly over her face. She swatted at him until he took them away.
“Tommy Miller,” she said, whirling around to face him, hands on her hips. Her eyes were dangerously dark, but the rest of her face was unreadable. “You did not.”
“Didn’t what?” Tommy asked innocently as he opened the door.
The puppy bounded out and began attacking Maria’s legs, yapping and licking.
Her eyes rounded as she stared down at it.
“C’mon, c’mon,” Tommy said, ushering his wife and their new pet into the house.
“Oh my god,” Maria said, now standing in their living room. The dog sat, staring up at her adoringly, panting. “Where did you even find this thing?”
“That thing,” Tommy said, crossing his arms, smug, “is a dog. I found him in the woods.”
Maria raised an eyebrow at him.
“Well, alright, Earl found him, but I brought him home,” Tommy said, sheepish now under her glare. He scratched the back of his head, grimacing.
“And we’re keeping him,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
“If you want,” Tommy said, shrugging. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. Did Maria even like dogs?
Maria sighed, then crouched down. The dog trotted over and nuzzled her hands. She gave it a little half-smile.
“Hey there, little guy,” she murmured, running her hands over the dog’s head. “You are cute.”
“I know it’s not -- y’know, what you want,” Tommy said slowly, watching her. “It’s not supposed to be a --” He frowned. “But you’ve been so fuckin’ sad lately, and I hate seein’ you like that. So I figured...”
Maria looked up at him. She was scratching the dog’s ears absent-mindedly.
“You’re a sweet idiot, you know that?” She was smiling, her eyes brighter than he’d seen in months.
Tommy chuckled. “So, uh. Can we keep him?”
She laughed in earnest now. “Yes, I suppose we can.” She turned back to the dog and said, “What are we gonna call you?”
“Buckley.”
Maria raised her eyebrows. “Buckley?” she deadpanned. “You got me a dog and picked out the name for me?”
Tommy raised his hands. “Had to call him something, right?”