Page 76 of Speechless

“I hope this makes up for the circus, even though the animals here are fake

If you use a little imagination, this could be the perfect date”

Our lunchisperfect. We sing, and laugh, and sing some more. The table next to us decides to join in around the fourth verse and we laugh even harder. My fingers itch for a piano and I start strumming them on the table.

It feels like every bit of tension has dissolved between me and Lucy. Maybe I’m still holding back too much, pretending to be normal when it’s not the truth, but I don’t want to do anything to ruin this. It feels too good to risk. And after tomorrow, Lucy will know exactly how I feel about her. Then I can tell her everything.

* * *

After lunchwe decide to wander aimlessly. The rain has held out and the temperature is quite pleasant. And when Lucy hooks her arm through mine, I decide nothing can ruin this day. That is until the clouds open up with vigor and pelt down on us until we’re completely soaked.

“This way! Come on, Luce.” I find an awning to duck under and realize it’s actually a hotel. After shaking out my jacket and hair as much as possible I guide us both inside to wait out the storm.

“Oh, hello! Just in time. The event is to the left, straight through those double doors. And there’s toilets to the right if you need to change. Welcome!” A sprightly woman with a short blonde bob greets us at the entrance, but Lucy and I look at each other in total confusion. Then she winks at me.

“Great, thank you! Let’s go, Henry, we don’t wanna be late.” She takes my hand and pulls me toward the double doors.

“What are you doing? Do you have any clue what she was talking about?”

“No, but it sounds like a party or something. Let’s crash for a minute—it could be fun.” Well, this is it. The moment Lucy realizes I don’t do spontaneousfun. Is it possible I can keep this perfect day going? Be normal in a room full of strangers? What if she wants to . . . mingle? God, even thinking that word makes me shudder.

“Erm, are you sure? What if it’s some stuffy English thing?”

“Oh, come on. Let’s just check it out. We can always leave.”

All right. For her, I’ll try.

We open the doors into what looks like a ballroom, but what we find inside is, well, unexpected. There must be at least one hundred people, probably more, but they’re all dressed in costumes—animal costumes. I see Lucy’s gaze float across the room and then she turns to me with a startled grin.

“Oh my God—do you know what this is?” I am unequivocally clueless. I shake my head at her, still holding on to her hand tightly. “I think it’s one of those . . . yep, holy shit. Look at the sign.” She points to a banner on the far wall that reads ‘ConFuzzled 2023.’ “It’s afurryconvention.” She whispers the last two words and I’m still a bit dumbstruck. I’m not exactly a socialite, but am I supposed to know what that means?

She sees my still very confused face and pouts at me like I’m a naïve little boy. “They’re all like, really into dressing up as furry animals. I think sometimes it’s a sex thing. But not always.” What in the world . . .

“I think we should go.” I’m not sure she even hears me as her attention is elsewhere. She removes her hand from mine but uses it to start nudging me over and over until I finally see what she’s gaping at. Holy shit. “Is that man dressed as a . . . ? He looks just like a giant-sized . . .”

“Rowan.”

It’s almost remarkable, the similarities. It’s like he took a picture of her dog and made the costume to match. Same white shaggy fur, same gray ears. Even the tongue lolling out of the costume head hangs slightly to the side, just like Rowan. It’s fucking eerie. But Lucy looks transfixed, and then I realize she is slowly moving us toward this imposter.

“Luce, what are you doing? You’re not thinking of engaging with this creature, are you?”

“It’ll be fine. Maybe they just really love sheepies.” She’s so cute when she gets like this, her eyes sparkling while she bounces on her toes. I can’t stop her, but I’m determined not to let her out of my sight either, so I stay very, very close and keep a hand at her back. The only thing she’ll be cuddling tonight is me.

“Hi, umm, ‘scuse me.” Lucy is so short the giant sheepdog probably doesn’t even see her. She pokes at it to get its attention. The deep voice that responds is startling.

“How ya doin’ lassie?” I can tell Lucy is struggling a bit with his thick Scottish brogue. I think she might choose to finally walk away, until she pulls out her phone.

“I just had to show you, you look just like my dog, Rowan. See?”

I turn away slightly, I can’t believe she’s doing this. Holy hell, she’s as comfortable talking to strangers as I am avoiding them. We could not be any more different. I want to interrupt her, break her away from the furry Scot before he gets any ideas, but when I try to speak, nothing comes. And then I realize she doesn’t need me. He is showing her photos of his dog as well.

I finally convince her it’s time to leave, but not until after they exchange emails and Instagram handles (for the dogs of course). I hadn’t seen until now, hers is @RowantheSnugWarrior.

I am so, helplessly, in love with her.

35

Lucy

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