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“Oh my lord, never met no one like you before.”
December 24 at noon, the streets were bustling with last-minute shopping and dinner preparations. The blue heeler barely got out of bed, with the low spirits that had characterized him since that day. He went to the kitchen and turned on the coffee maker, rubbing one of his eyes as he poured himself a cup. He walked to the window and glanced at the neighborhood, blowing until he could take a sip.
The rest of the houses were filled with extravagant decorations, strings of lights everywhere, and the occasional inflatable snowman. His was the only one without that festive spirit, just like himself. He turned and sighed when he saw that his living room was not only undecorated, but everything in general was a complete mess. Order is just one of the many things that are missing since she left.
As he returned to the dining room and sat down, he could feel his mind beginning to wander. Those dances in the kitchen with the light from the refrigerator, those breakfasts together, everything had vanished. He knows how bad it is for him to miss a lover that's in the past, but it is almost inevitable for him not to do so. It is like a bad habit he has not been able to break.
He could almost hear his brothers' voices from those days when all they wanted was to make him feel... well, less stuck.
—Seriously, you need to stop thinking about her.— said the youngest heeler. —You living from memories is like... eating out of the trash.
—Stripe!— exclaimed the older one, nudging him.
—What? It's the truth.
—But don't just say it like that. It's ugly.
—You're ugly.— he muttered, crossing his arms. Radley just rolled his eyes and turned to Bandit.
—Listen, band, he's partly right. It's never gonna last, you have to, you know... move on.
To this day, the Heeler still believes that it was easy for them to say something like that, they both have stable relationships to boast about.
Instead, he is there, alone in a house haunted by memories of what once was. He lives with ghosts that haunt him and only make it harder to “move on.”
All that mental turmoil suddenly ceased with the ringing of his phone. The screen showed an incoming call from Pat. He considered it for a good couple of seconds but finally accepted it.
—What's up, big blue?— The retriever's voice came out of the speaker, cheerful as ever. —How are holidays treating ya?
—What do you want?— Bandit replied, in complete contrast.
—How lovely.— he said ironically. —Just wanted to know if you had any plans for Christmas Eve.
The heeler looked back at the living room and let out a barely audible sigh.
—I don't, my boss wouldn't let me work. He says everything's covered and that I should "rest".— He made quotation marks in the air, emphasizing his frustration.
—Well, maybe he's right.— Pat pointed out. —Come on, you basically live in that museum. Tonight's the night where we all rock around the christmas tree.— He couldn't see Bandit's face, but it wasn't hard to deduce that he wasn't exactly dying of laughter. After an awkward silence, he cleared his throat and continued.
—What I'm trynna say is that I'm hosting a dinner party, nothing formal, just family and friends.— he explained, his intention clear as day. —And that of course includes my grumpy neighbor.— he joked.
Bandit rolled his eyes. —Sounds good, but I think I'll pass this time. Even without work, there’s some other things I wanna do. Go see my brothers, for example.
The retriever knew that wasn't true, just a poor attempt to get out of it so he could spend the night drowning in his loneliness or something.
—Uh-huh, which one?
Bandit hesitated a little. —Uh, Radley.
—You gonna travel? Cuz i reckon he's out of the country.— he said, causing the heeler to rub his eyes in frustration. He had completely forgotten that little detail.
—Yeah, yeah, I meant Stripe. I'll go to his house for a bit and then come back.
—Stripe’s coming here.
Bandit closed his eyes tightly. —Motherf...—he muttered, covering the microphone so the other one couldn't hear.
—Hey, I literally live next door. If you don't come, I can come get you and drag you there by your ears.
At that image, Bandit let out a soft snort that almost sounded like laughter. It was silly, almost childish, although knowing the retriever well, it could be a real threat.
—Did I hear laughter?— he exclaimed excitedly.
—Something like that.
—Yes, it was. And I'll take it as confirmation. See you at 6, big blue.
The heeler couldn't say anything else; before even trying, Pat already ended the call.
He looked up at the ceiling, closed his eyes, and sighed. After a couple of seconds, a half-smile appeared on the side of his face, barely noticeable and almost hesitant. He sat up and took another sip of his coffee, still on disbelief that he "agreed" on such thing, but thinking that he may as well just show up for an hour or two and then just get back here.
Far from that neighborhood, in an apartment, the brown Labrador had received the same invitation, but with a practically opposite reaction,taking him the blink of an eye to accept. He didn't want to be there empty-pawed, so he went straight to the kitchen and got to work on a simple but reliable recipe for homemade cookies.
When the time came, he left and arrived at the retriever's house only a little late. He knocked on the door and was greeted by Janelle, who warmly invited him in and told him to make himself comfortable.
—Just not that much.— she added teasingly as she closed the door.
—I'll try.— Fido played along before looking around. The atmosphere was cozy, with Christmas music playing in the background and decorations everywhere. Some people were chatting with each other, while others were just watching television. The festive spirit was in the air, that was for sure.
But there was someone who was noticeably detached. In a corner, there was a blue heeler wearing a red and white sweater, with a cup of hot chocolate as his only companion, his gaze somewhat lost and... melancholic.
Fido walked toward him with some curiosity. When he stopped, he looked at him with a friendly smile.
—Hey.— he said, still carrying the small box in one hand. —Are you friends with Pat?
Bandit looked at him, his ears pricking up slightly at the sound of his cheerful tone. He gave him a tired small smile and nodded.
—Yeah, and also his neighbor. Why do you ask?
—So am I.— said the lab. —I mean, his friend, not his neighbor.— He placed a paw on his neck. He would be lying if he said that the coldness of the man in blue didn't make him a little nervous.
—This was kind of a last-minute thing, but I couldn't say no to him.
He added, the words flowing more easily, trying to ignore that little voice telling him that the heeler didn't really want to talk to him.
Bandit could sense the enthusiasm and kindness he showed despite his distant attitude, and he appreciated it, but he simply believed that the labrador should go with someone more cheerful or fun.
—Name's Fido, by the way.— he said, extending his hand with somewhat clumsy agility.
—Bandit. Bandit Heeler.— he replied, accepting the handshake. —Nice to meet you.— he said, giving him a smile that was a little stronger than before.
—Likewise.— Fido couldn't help but think that the blue dog looked even better with that expression on his face; it suited him very well.
—Are you having a good time?— the Labrador added casually, perhaps to address the small elephant in the room.
Bandit looked around at the other guests joking and enjoying themselves, unlike him. He really wanted to feel the same way, but he couldn't. He turned his gaze back to the coffee and sighed.
—I'm just a little tired, that's all.
—Well, I have something that might make you feel at least a tiny bit better.— he pointed to the box before slowly opening it, revealing the pile of cookies. —Take one or two, as you like.
The heeler glanced inside; they looked pretty good. —Are those homemade?— he asked, almost mesmerized by the smell they gave off.
—You know it.— he replied playfully, as if he were at least a little proud of it.
—I didn't want to come empty-pawed, I had to bring something.— he explained, pleased to see Bandit accept the gesture. —Take another one before I put them on the table. My arm is getting tired.— he joked.
Bandit chuckled before taking him up on his offer and grabbing a couple more cookies. There was something comforting about the Labrador's light-hearted attitude, it was hard to explain, especially since he had literally just met him.
—You're very kind.— he said before putting the candy in his mouth and taking a big bite. Yes, they definitely taste much better than they smell.
—I try my best.— Fido shrugged nonchalantly. He doesn't know what the heeler is going through, but it feels good to cheer him up at least a little.
He closed the box and took a step back. —I haven't greeted our host yet.— He pointed to Pat, who was near the dining room surrounded by other friends. —Be right back.
Then the heeler can see him walking toward them, joining the conversation with an ease he wishes he had. Pat immediately hugged the Labrador as he introduced him to the others. He offered them cookies, and they all gladly accepted.
—Hey, I told you guys this guy here was the master of the oven.— said the retriever. —Seriously, Fi. You have my full support in opening that coffee shop.
—Well, it's money what i need.
Pat blinked a couple of times. —Moral support, I meant.— he added, causing Fido and the others to laugh loudly in unison.
The heeler sees them from his place, how wide Pat smiled as the lab joined them, how their tails wagged cutely as the chatter seemed to continue, he leaned slightly against the wall, adverting his gaze to prevent himself to think too much about, to avoid the feeling of being left out, the envious, he couldn't think that, it was merely his fault after all.
Pat nudged the lab and teased him about how well he seemed to get along with Bandit.
—I dare to say you're the only one he's smiled at tonight.
Fido looked at him, taking a couple of sips from his cup, his gaze as lost and dull as before. —Has he always been like this?— he asked.
—No, not at all. He used to be very lively, cheerful even.— Pat explained, his voice dropping to a considerably more serious tone. —It's the divorce that's got him like this. It was a while ago now, but he doesn't seem close to getting over it.
—I see.— Fido nodded. —I'll be careful then.— he added, assuring that he won't intrude on something that may not be his bussiness. Pat chuckled and ruffled the lab's hair before letting him go.
Bandit took a couple more bites of the cookie when the Labrador approached and took his former position right in front of him.
—Liked the treat, Mr. Heeler?— he teased.
He continued chewing as he replied. —Mhm, they're very tasty.— His voice was a little muffled because of the food in his mouth. He swallowed and wiped the crumbs from his mouth before continuing. —Everything okay with Pat?
Fido hesitated for a second. —Yeah, we were catching up a bit.— He paused, noticing the caution in the heeler's expression. —He's glad you came, actually. He just wants you to feel comfortable.— He kept his gaze on him, there was no pity, no pressure to reveal more details, just simple and pure understanding.
Bandit nodded, feeling a lump in his throat as he watched the retriever having fun, laughing with the others without any difficulty.
—I know what you're thinking. That it's "easy for him to say".— said the Labrador. —Believe it or not, I understand exactly how you feel.
Bandit raised an eyebrow, incredulous. —You're divorced too?
Fido let out a soft but somewhat melancholic laugh. —I'm not.— No other words. He let the silence speak for him.
With just one look, the realization hit the other one with the strenght of lightning strikes.
—I'm sorry, I didn't.— He was interrupted mid-sentence. —Don't worry, it's been some time since then.
The heeler didn't know what else to say. Suddenly, he felt as if his own grief were somehow silly or even irrational, but that didn't make it go away; if anything, it only covered it up like a cloud covering the sun.
—Listen, it's okay to feel the pain. To let it be.— Fido added. —But it also is to try to get out of there. Avoid bottling it up. That will only make it worse.
Bandit looked at the ground, then sighed. —I just find stupid that the perfect couples are the ones to give me advice. All they say is, ”When you know, you know.”
—“And when you don't, you don't.”— the other finished the sentence, causing Bandit to smile a bit and snort.
—Yeah, exactly.— he said. Still incredulous at how much the Labrador continues to surprise him.
—It may sound wierd, but sometimes what we feel is nothing more than— He hesitated, looking around. —A storm inside a teacup.
The heeler frowned, but without losing his smile. —You're right, it does sound weird.— he joked. —Did you just come up with that?
—Well, maybe I'm not the best when it comes to allegories.— he apologized, scratching his neck a little. It sounded better in his head, to be fair.
—I like it. It makes sense.
They stared at each other for a little longer than necessary, as if losing themselves in each other's eyes. Bandit felt strangely comfortable in his presence. Fido was unlike anyone he had ever met before, someone who seemed to shine no matter what or who.
Suddenly, the moment was interrupted by the retriever's voice. —Hey, have you two looked up yet?— he asked, pointing to a small piece of mistletoe hanging conveniently right above them.
They both stared at it with equal confusion.
—Was it there the whole time?— said Fido, genuinely surprised that he hadn't noticed it.
—Looks like it.— Bandit pointed out.
—Come on, you know the rule.— Pat exclaimed, wearing a mocking, pretentious smile that only irritated the Labrador. —Shut up, Pat. I don't think this is the time.
—It's Christmas Eve, of course it is.
Fido rolled his eyes and turned to the heeler.
—Don't listen to him. You know he can be a jerk.— But this one didn't say a word, and the Labrador feared that the joke had made him uncomfortable, but his face betrayed no emotion.
—Bandit?— he asked, and in response, Bandit took a couple of steps toward him.
Then, without warning, he grabbed him by the sweater and closed the distance between them completely, joining their lips in an act that was nothing more than fulfilling tradition. From the shock, Fido opened his eyes wide, but they slowly closed as the kiss continued. Their tails wagged in unison, with the same force and grace as a propeller.
Shortly after, Bandit let him go. Both of them caught their breath as they continued to stare at each other. A smug smirk appeared on his muzzle as soon as the labrador's flustered and dishelved appearence was on full display.
Some of the other guests cheered, and the retriever watched them from his place with pure adn clear satisfaction, as if something he had imagined some time ago had just come true.
—Surprised?— asked the heeler.
Fido shook his head slightly. He wanted to speak, but the words wouldn't come out of his throat.
—W-Why did you do that?
Bandit laughed. —It's the rule, isn't it? Pat said so.— He shrugged nonchalantly. —Come on, don't tell me you didn't like it.— he added, knowing that all he was doing was making the Labrador's flush even more visible.
—Give me the depressed Bandit back.— he joked, causing Bandit to push him playfully on the shoulder, and they both ended up chuckling together.
In the distance, Janelle came out of the kitchen and walked straight toward her husband, wrapping her arms around him as she watched the couple standing close together.
—Did you just set up two of your friends?— she asked, almost as surprised as amused.
—What can I say? I had a feeling they'd hit it off.
—You feel like Cupid or something?— she joked.
—I mean, it worked for us.— he added, causing her to roll her eyes and shake her head slightly.
—Come on, dinner's ready.— she announced, patting him on the chest before breaking free from his embrace to go and serve the others.
—What did Janelle make?— the heeler asked.
—Uh, lasagna.— Fido pointed out. —Want some?
—I dunno.— he hesitated, almost as if he didn't want to leave his corner yet. —I don't think it tastes as good as those cookies.
The Labrador smiled. —Come on, let's get us a plate.— He took him by the hand to lead him to the kitchen, more by force than anything else.
During the rest of dinner, some asked them about the scene they had created under the mistletoe. And although they both replied that it was just to fulfill tradition, it was more than obvious that it had only been the beginning of something new.