A Dog Named Jeff

Baxter

The best and worst thing about Moose Lake was its miniscule size.

Walk ten minutes in any direction and you’d find yourself surrounded by woodland and hiking trails. I headed there now. With my head down, I barreled down the sidewalk, hoping against hope I wouldn’t run into anybody I knew.

Which was a big fucking hope seeing as everybody knew everyone.

But it had been ten years.

There was a chance, just this once, I might escape undetected.

I stuffed my hands into my pockets and shook my head, concentrating on the ground beneath my feet as the sidewalk gave way to gravel and finally a well-worn dirt path leading into the forest. Tipping my chin up slightly, I found the entrance to the trail I wanted and disappeared exactly as I used to when things at home became unbearable.

Welcomed into the shelter of the trees, the rich fragrance of damp earth wrapped around me like a long-forgotten memory.

And I took my first deep breath since finding out I had a son.

I’m a father.

Doing the math, Cor must have been ten years old.

I have a son, and I don’t even know his birthday.

How could Maggie keep him from me for ten years?

And why?

Tears stung the backs of my eyes. The further I walked into the woods, the sharper the memory focussed.

Lying side by side on our rock with my jacket pillowed behind her head, we stared up at the stars.

“We’ll have a little house,” I murmured. “It’ll be so clean and fresh inside.”

“You’ll teach and I’ll become a master locksmith.”

She laughed. “That shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“Hush your mouth, woman. I’m building a dream here.”

“Sorry,” she teased, squeezing my hand. “Please continue.”

“We’ll have a nice backyard for our two kids and our dog.”

“We have a dog?” she murmured.

“We do. His name is Jeff.”

She barked out a laugh. “Jeff?”

I nodded and rolled onto my side. Placing my hand on her lower tummy, I reveled in her hitched breath as I leaned over and kissed her. “Yeah. Jeff.”

“What if it’s a girl?”

“Still, Jeff.”

I kissed her laughing mouth.