Page 28 of Scout Takes the Lead
Henry tried to climb out of Becca’s lap to drive with me, and even though I knew it was wrong I let him.
“I can deal with the old memories,” I said. “I’ve moved on. But he made me think about Alex.”
I turned south from Hollywood Boulevard, toward the Somogyis’. I knew there was a parking space by their house I could use.
“What about Alex?” Becca asked.
“I can’t decide if I want to keep going out with him or not.”
I parked the car and we got out, with Navajo and Henry on leashes. “Pros and cons?” Becca asked.
“Pros first. He’s handsome and muscular but he’s smart and sensitive, too. I love the way he interacts with Scout. Like they’re a real team.”
“Cons?”
I sighed. “PTSD. I don’t know how bad it is or how treatable it is. And he’s lonely, and I don’t know if that’s because of his PTSD or because he’s not able to make friends, to trust people.”
“It sounds like he trusted you at the ArtsPark,” she said.
“He did. But it was also scary to see how upset he got. He’s already reacted badly once, when he heard those noises and knocked me down. I know he was trying to protect me, but what if I’d gotten hurt? Do I want to risk that?”
“To date a boy I hardly know, my heart says yes my brain says no,” Becca said. “That’s iambic tetramer. Four iambs per line.”
“Do you have to make everything in life into a poem?” I asked, laughing.
She linked her arm in mine. “You’d be surprised at how often poetry comes in handy.” Her eyes opened wide. “And that rhymes with randy! Oh, I am a genius.”
She started muttering lines of poetry as we walked. But that was fine with me. I needed to think about Alex Dow.
15: Kings and Queens: Alex
I couldn’t stop thinking about Grace. For the first time in a long time, I was attracted to a woman. But was I too messed up? She’d confided to me about her father, so I knew she was vulnerable. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her.
I waited until Monday morning to text her, because I didn’t want to come off too strong. “Fun yesterday despite the drama,” I wrote. “Thanks.”
She responded with a heart and a thumbs up. Both made me smile.
I had slept well, so I logged some hours on customer service. I was almost finished with the dollhouse except for the little stuff. I looked through some magazines and cut out tiny pictures, then built wooden frames to go around them, and hung them on the walls. It was starting to look like a real house, and I wondered what I was going to do with it when I was finished.
I’d never played with dolls as a kid. I had cowboys and Indians and horses, and I used to set up mock battles where they chased each other. GI Joe was also a big part of my childhood. He didn’t go to tea parties with other soldiers, but we wandered around the neighborhood exploring. He got into battles with other kids’ Transformers and Ninja Turtles. And nobody ever suggested that we were playing with dolls.
It was my turn to ask Kenny for help. I texted to see if I could come over that evening, and he agreed. Then I gave Scout a good long walk and then dinner, and put on my headset for another couple of hours.
After dinner we walked to Kenny’s house. Scout heeled perfectly, even when a squirrel darted in front of us, and again when a gecko appeared from the underbrush, stared at us for a moment and then rushed away.
I didn’t feel any hesitation going into Kenny’s house. It had become a familiar location like Java Boys, and I had Scout there with me. As the dogs rushed each other, then raced around, Kenny led me to the living room and he grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge while I sat on an armchair, leaning forward just in case I had to get up quickly.
He handed one to me and sat on the sofa, his back against one arm. The dogs got tired, and curled together, as they might have when they were being whelped. “Grace says I need to be more assertive with Cheyenne,” Kenny said. “But I don’t want to be his boss. I just want him to love me.”
“He does love you. I can see it in the way he follows you around. But you can’t let him think he’s in charge because that’s going to stress him out.”
“How can my loving him stress him out?”
I kicked off my shoes and crossed my legs on the couch so that I was facing Kenny. “Remember, dogs are pack animals, and packs have leaders. The leader is responsible for the rest of the pack. If one of the pack is gone, the leader will worry. That’s why dogs bark and cry by the door.”
“But I thought Scout was going to be your service dog. Doesn’t that make him in charge of protecting you?”
“It’s not like that. He doesn’t make sure it’s safe for me to cross the street or anything. He’s just there so that when I get tense I have him to relax me. But he knows that’s his job—-working for me. If you love Cheyenne, you have to take charge.” I leaned back against the couch. “That’s part of what makes the PTSD so tough. I feel out of control. And I never know what’s going to trigger an attack.”
