Page 92 of Lorcan
Lorcan studied the map. “We almost could have walked.”
“Sure…but we might be bringing something home with us.”
“Too heavy to carry?”
“You could say that.”
He arched an eyebrow. “You’re being very mysterious.”
“I’m nervous. I’m worried you won’t like my surprise.”
“Cody, whatever it is, I’ll adapt. You taught me that. Together we can tackle anything.”
That had been the theme in our counseling session with Justin when we’d all three met. And Lorcan had come home last night, from his appointment, with the same mentality. Last weekend, he’d handed in the keys to his old apartment.
An older man, down on his luck, had promptly moved into the rundown space. Grateful that Lorcan was willing to leave the furniture—uncomfortable couch and all. To someone who had nothing, that was like a Christmas miracle. We might’ve accidentally filled the pantry with staples and left a gift card to the grocery store.
Oh well. Nothing to be done about that.
I smiled to myself as I drove out of the underground garage. We were going to be okay. Riley had added Lorcan to the supplemental health insurance, so he could get access to medical things not covered by the universal healthcare program run by the province of British Columbia. She’d also added him to her permanent roster and asked him if he could take point on the new project starting in January. This was a huge responsibility—but nothing Lorcan hadn’t done before.
Slowly, step-by-step, he was regaining his confidence.
No news from the authorities as to when the money Stephen had stolen might be repatriated. We didn’t need it—but Lorcan was entitled to whatever was left after the victims received restitution.
Snow fell in quiet flakes.
I mused, “I think it’ll be nice to hunker down tonight.”
“Yep.” He held his hands in front of the heater. “What a crazy winter. Early snow. Then melting and mild temperatures. More snow. More melting. Now this huge dump.”
The streets had been plowed, but if much more fell, they’d need to be done again.
Abinginformed us that we’d arrived at our destination.
Lorcan gazed out the window. “Nice house.”
“Byron and Carter like it.” I undid my seatbelt. “Well, actually, they love it.”
“Ah.”
Before I could ask if he remembered them, his gaze shot to mine. “Are we here to adopt Mei?”
I held my breath. Slowly, I nodded.
After meeting with Champ, Lorcan had been so excited. He’d talked about what a great dog Champ was.
Rayne had given us the dog’s history—that he’d been called Sarge and raised as a guard dog. That his owners had dropped him off at Zephyra Dixon’s vet clinic—one of the eight Dixon sisters, of course. How Torah, the sister who was a trainer, was struggling with the dog who disliked women.
Rayne had rescued the dog, even though his own situation was quite precarious.
Something about people trying to kill him?
Whatever.
Champ was such a great dog—proof that rescuing even the most dire of dogs, could work.
Then we’d veered into a discussion about what might be involved if we decided to get a dog. Living with two people in the condo was tough, but we’d have an added responsibility with another creature. We both had jobs outside the home, so how would that work? Lorcan also expressed fears about being responsible for someone else. Someone not capable of always letting their needs to known. He was still shaken by Stephen’s betrayal, and questioning his ability to take care of someone. Finally, given Mei’s age, we were facing a commitment of about ten years. Our relationship was so new, what would happen if things didn’t work out?
