Page 22 of Always You

“No,” I replied.

“I just… I miss my friend.” His sadness was audible through the door.

I stood there, a hand pressed to the wood separating us, feeling a lifetime of memories press back. Alex had been my confidant, my partner in crime, the one who knew me best—until it all fell apart.

“You don’t need a friend,” I mumbled.

“Did you say something?” he asked. “Jazz?”

“You don’t need a friend,” I repeated a little louder.

“Can I… look, can I just step inside? I wanted to… I need…”

“It’s not about what you need, Alex. None of this is.”

There was the longest pause, and I slid down the door to rest my back against it.

“I know,” he said at last, and I heard movement. “I need to get some posters up on the community wall. There’s a new placement with an animal shelter if you are interested. I mean, I know you had Ben when you were little, and thought you might like first shot?”

Ben. God, that took me back. A black lab, gray-muzzled by the time he passed at fourteen, a fiend for finding food everywhere, gentle, round, and an enormous teddy bear.

“I missed Ben when he went,” I blurted, wishing I could recall the words when I heard another sigh.

“I missed him, too. I loved that old softie.”

Silence, and then, more movement and a scuffle as something got pushed under the door. I moved as though Alex had shoved in a hand grenade, but it was a flyer with a picture of a sleeping puppy and two tiny kittens, and the wordsGuardian Animal Shelter. Was this something to do with Guardian Hall, or was that name a coincidence?

“It’s a good place, offers vocational skills, is friendly, and has so many animals. I love it there,” Alex said, then he cleared his throat. “I’ll be at the community board if you have questions, but I know you’re seeing Greta later, and you could mention this to her when she talks about work placements. No pressure. None at all.”

Words failed me, and I heard him walking away. I picked up the flyer and read the brief details: four hours a day, volunteering, with scope for more hours, and working toward a recognized qualification.

Animals.

I could do that.

I folded the flyer and put it into my pocket, then headed out to see Marcus, only somehow unbidden, I took a left and endedup by the community board, seeing Alex on a stepstool reaching the top of the board and moving labels around. He hadn’t heard me approach, and when I cleared my throat, he stumbled and nearly fell. I gripped his arm, but he’d already stabilized himself, so I released my hold. He stared at me.

I stared back.

Then, I checked the board under placements and scanned what else was there. Nothing spoke to me like the animal sanctuary. After all this time, he’d remembered that about me. Then, I scanned a little further and saw the ad for a visiting barber, with a note that all I had to do was head to the kitchen on Tuesday at ten and I could get a haircut and maybe…

I tugged my beard, which was still unruly despite me hacking at it. Harper had mentioned visiting soon, and maybe I needed to get the beard and hair fixed before seeing my daughter. I didn’t want to scare her—I was determined to bedadagain.

“I like the beard,” Alex murmured.

I side-eyed him. Alex had stubble, but it didn’t look styled and deliberate, a little patchy. I guess I’d gotten all the beard-growing mojo.

“Thank you.” What else could I say? He’d complimented me, and in polite society, a man says thank you in return.

“How are the hands?” he asked.

I turned my palm up so he could see. There were faint pink patches now, but no infection, and my skin had become soft from the shower products. I felt soft. As if being here was scraping away my hard layers. That was a scary thought—what if everything got stripped and left my heart exposed?

“They’re good,” I said.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he said after another long pause.

“About what?”

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