Page 6 of Heart Me Up
“I don’t think you’re being honest, Craig.” She sat there and looked at me. I looked away. “When we started these sessions, wasn’t one of your primary goals to get your life back to what it used to be? Doesn’t that include dating and sex?”
I sighed. “I guess.”
“Here’s the deal I’ll offer you. You go on one date. Arealdate,” she cautioned. “With someone you're attracted to. Then we’ll talk about how you felt about the experience. Based on how it goes, I’ll consider reducing the frequency of your sessions.”
I groaned. “Lisa, we both know if I go on a date I’m going to needmoresessions, not less.”
She grinned, finally dropping herI’m a therapistface. “I’m taking my wife to Europe next year. I’ve gotta make bank.”
* * *
After therapy I was mostly useless at work. The truths Lisa had laid on me echoed through my brain. Ihadbeen hiding. I wasn’t actually healing emotionally because I was just drifting along, going to work and doing the minimum I could get by with socially.
So when Greg, my business partner and best friend, told me a dog had rolled in mud out in the daycare yard and no one else was available to bathe him, I’d jumped at the chance to do something that didn’t require much brainpower.
In minutes Greg and I were standing next to one of the tubs, stripped to the waist and sudsing up a large Great Pyrenees named Moose. I’d have offered to bathe him by myself, but he was a two-person job. A very messy and wet two-person job, hence our taking our shirts off. We provided quick-dry smocks and pants for bathing staff, but Greg and I were in a hurry and didn’t bother checking for spares.
Pyrs havea tonof fur and it’s constantly being shed. Bathing causes the loose fur to all come off at once, usually on you. Don’t get me started about blow drying them. White-out warnings are not only for snow.
In no time Greg and I were both liberally spotted with clumps of wet white fur. Moose was mostly cooperating, but he hunched toward the corner of the tub as far from the spray as he could get.
“You’re doing great, Moose. It’ll only be a little longer,” I told him. “Who’s gonna be a clean, pretty boy?”
Greg kind of half-laughed. “Speaking of pretty boys….”
“No.” I’d told Greg what Lisa had said in our session.
“You admitted Lisa was right. Jaime and I are going clubbing this weekend. You should come.” I turned the sprayer toward Greg. He jumped out of the way, splashing on the wet floor.
“Back off. I’ll go at my own pace. Pressuring me is not helping.” I could admit Lisa was right and still be scared stiff.
“All you need is to meet someone. You know, Jaime’s neighbor is an accountant. Jaime says he’s really cute. It’s not like you’d have to sleep with him or anything.”
I shook my head. “No set-ups. No neighbors, no accountants. No clubbing! I will meet someone on my own when I’m ready.” I threatened him with the hose again.
Greg threw up his hands. “Fine, fine. For now.” I made ahmphnoise and turned back to Moose. But without Greg on his other side, Moose saw his chance for escape. He leapt over the side of the tub, forgetting he was tied to the wall. “Shit!” Greg and I shouted as we jumped to catch Moose before he could strangle himself on his lead. We wrestled him back into the tub; soap, water and loose fur getting everywhere. As soon as I could, I reached over and pulled the quick release on the knot tying the dog to the wall. Greg loosened the lead around Moose’s neck to make sure he wasn’t choking.
“Hey, buddy, you’re okay.” I kept my arms around the dog’s sopping wet, soapy chest to hold him in place while Greg ran his hands over Moose’s neck and listened to his breathing. “He’s all right. Let’s rinse him off.”
This time Greg held Moose’s lead while I rinsed. When he was finally clean, we turned off the sprayers and grabbed some towels. I halfheartedly swiped at my face and chest before I started on Moose. By now Greg and I were both soaked to the skin and covered with splatters of white fur and shampoo suds.
Just as we began toweling Moose off, the door to the bathing room opened. Melanie, our front desk manager, came in.
“Hey! Oh, my god!” She pointed at us and laughed. “Have you seen yourselves?” She laughed even harder, leaning over with her hands on her thighs. Greg and I took a beat to examine each other. We did look pretty hilarious.
“Yeah, it’s a good thing we don’t bathe dogs for our main job.” I said. “You can stop laughing any time now.”
Melanie straightened up and fished in her pocket. “I need a picture!”
Greg and I shrugged at each other. We posed with Moose between us. Melanie whistled at him to get his attention, and Greg and I grinned for the camera. I knew I resembled a wet rat. Greg, even though he was covered in the same water, soap and fur as I was, still looked like a movie star. I was used to it.
“Hah, too bad you’re shirtless or else this would go on our social media right away,” Melanie’s smile got even wider as she admired the photo on her phone. Abruptly, her head shot up. “Crap, I forgot! I came in to tell you there’s a hot cop out front who’s here to see one or both of you.”
Greg and I stiffened. “A cop? Did he say what he’s here about?” Greg asked.
“Um, no. I didn’t really feel I could ask since, you know, police business. He didn’t act like it was an emergency or anything though.” Greg and I exchanged a glance, then both of us stared down at our wet selves and the dog who still needed to be dried.
“Rock, paper, scissors?” I suggested.
