A Little Too Broken

© 2013 by Orland Outland

All rights reserved

Contents

CHAPTER ONE – IT’LL END IN TEARS

CHAPTER TWO – IT’S JUST A FANTASY

CHAPTER THREE – THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE

CHAPTER FOUR – WOULD I LIE TO YOU?

CHAPTER FIVE – THE LEAST HE COULD DO

CHAPTER SIX – RISK MANAGEMENT

CHAPTER SEVEN – AS I ALWAYS KNEW IT WOULD

CHAPTER EIGHT – BUDDY PICTURES

CHAPTER NINE – THE WHOLE FAMILY THING

CHAPTER TEN – OR NOT…

CHAPTER ONE – IT’LL END IN TEARS

Jamie stopped and took a breath, his hand on the door. If you go through this door, you know you’re not going home alone, he told himself. That should have filled him with warm, fuzzy feelings, but instead, an almost oppressive sense of doom cast its pall over him.

His reverie was broken by someone on the other side, pushing the door out. He stepped back to let the guy out, involuntarily returning his smile, the big smile of someone who’d found true love.

Okay, let’s go, he commanded his feet, and he crossed the threshold.

The Humane Society’s lobby was packed on the cat side of the building. It looked like everyone had decided to adopt that day. There was a full complement of people working the front desk, all busy getting paperwork finished so the proud new parents could go home with their charges. A gaggle of new volunteers was getting their orientation tour, and the lobby was full of families, and singles like himself, looking at the cats.

There must be more people than animals here today, he thought, and there were a lot of cats – cats in cages along the hall, cats in the community rooms, cats in boxes crying. It’s like Cat Costco in here.

Hi, can I help you? asked a cheerful middle-aged volunteer whose name tag said Nina.

Uh, yeah, I’m here to look at cats. That sounded stupid. Of course you are, what else is there to look at? But he couldn’t bring himself to say, I’m here to adopt a cat.

Great! Have you been here before?

Yeah, I got my other cat here a year ago.

And you’re here to get him a friend? she guessed.

Yeah. I live alone, and he’s lonely with me gone at work all day, so…

She nodded, already thinking about likely candidates, walking away as she talked so that Jamie had no choice but to follow. So you’re looking for a kitty who gets along with other cats.

Yeah, and who’s friendly and affectionate with people. And a girl, since Jackson’s a boy. Since I hear that a boy cat and a girl cat will get along better. Jackson was a good cat, but he wasn’t a lap cat. He’d let you pick him up and put him in your lap, but then he’d get squirmy in about ten seconds and bolt.

It would be nice to have a kitty who would just lay there with him, sharing body heat, body pressure…I’m never going to have a boyfriend, so it’s as close as I’m gonna get to that.

I think you should meet Jane. She opened a cage and pulled out a little darling, maybe half Jackson’s size and cute as a button. She had a sleepy face and a clearly sweet disposition. Nina plopped her into Jamie’s arms, where she looked up at him placidly.

Let’s get you into a playroom with her, and you guys can get acquainted.

She put the two of them in a little holding room, empty save for a bench and a few cat toys on the floor. I’m going to see who else needs some help; we’re totally slammed right now.

Oh, sure, no problem.

I’ll be back to check on you guys. She closed the door behind her, leaving the two of them together.

Jamie looked at Jane, and Jane looked at Jamie. She made a figure eight around his legs, rubbing sinuously and marking him as her own. She’s adorable, he thought, rubbing her eager face.

Yeah, but would Jackson think so? His anxiety, momentarily diminished by Jane’s loving nature, returned in force. What if he hated her? What if he didn’t want to share Jamie with another cat? What if they fought, and he attacked her and hurt her, what if he had to take her back? It would kill me, he thought, his face scrunching up. To rescue a cat out of here and then have to put her back here. What if it all ends in tears?

Besides, he thought with morbid humor, how sick does that sound – Jamie, Jackson and Jane? Jackson had come from the Humane Society with his name, and so would Jane. But it would sound to anyone else like he was a crazy cat lady.

Jane sneezed. And what if she’s sick? What if she has something Jackson could catch? What if, what if… It was too much. He paced the room, agitated. Where was Nina? She should be back by now. But there were just too many people here for her to wait on him alone.

He saw a volunteer through the window and waved frantically. Can you put her back in her cage?

Sure, the girl said, what’s her name?

Jane.

Oh, yeah, this is Jane! Oh, she’s a sweetheart. Are you going to adopt her?

Not today, he said, guilt and grief flooding his mind.

Okay! she said brightly, and he remembered that this happened all the time, people looked and left all the time, without adopting, at least not that day. He wasn’t a villain for going home alone today…it just felt like it.

He had to get away from all these people, all these cats he wasn’t adopting. He left the cat area into the main lobby between the dog and cat areas, where it was nice and quiet.

He looked around the lobby for Nina. She’d been so nice, he wanted to at least thank her. He took a seat, thinking, I’ll just wait a few minutes.

He watched people coming and going as he waited, twitching, wishing she would hurry up. Then a guy came in with a dog – clearly a service dog, as the Black Lab had the readily identifiable harness and vest.

The man on the other end of the leash was tall, and hunky, a big blocky dude in fatigues and a dark blue t-shirt with some kind of logo on it. He had a square jaw and dark, buzz-cut hair, and a five-o’clock shadow at noon creating a high contrast on his pale skin.

Jamie pegged him as military – he knew the look, since they were close to San Diego, home to a lot of retired and active duty service people. There was something about a man’s carriage, his face, when he’d been in the service.

He wasn’t pretty, he wasn’t model-gorgeous, but he was… It was hard to describe, he thought. He looked strong, dependable, calm. Like a dude, like he worked out but wasn’t all gay about it, didn’t starve himself or deprive himself of a beer or two. He walked a little stiffly, like he’d done a heavy workout the previous day, but that was even hotter, wasn’t it…

He must have realized he was being watched, and he looked at Jamie. Their eyes locked for a second. The dude had the darkest eyes, warm and deep. Jamie was magnetized. Then they both looked away at the same time.

Stupid, Jamie kicked himself. Stupid idiot. The guy was the straightest man he’d ever seen in his life. And even if he wasn’t…who would have you, you fucking leper?

He bolted to his feet. He would find Nina himself.

Tom stopped and took a breath, his hand on the door. He muttered under his breath, the mantra his best therapist had given him. They cannot eat you, they cannot eat you, they cannot eat you.

Harry looked up at him. He knew that these words meant that Tom was under stress, and he pushed his head into Tom’s other hand. Tom patted him instinctively, the motion calming him, Harry’s wagging tail in his peripheral vision reminding him that he was loved.

Okay, he said, and opened the door.

There was almost nobody in the central lobby, that was good. But that was because everyone was beyond the next sets of doors, in the animal areas. He headed for the dog side.

There was one person sitting there, between the dog and cat sides, and Tom felt his eyes on him. He looked instinctively, meeting them.

The guy was probably in his mid-twenties, slim and tan with dark green eyes and longish brown hair. He looked a little sad, but in a way that made him look…real. He was too good looking to be so downcast.

But there was something so incongruous about someone that gorgeous with such a sorrowful look on his face that Tom’s heart skipped a beat. There’s someone who might…

Tom tore his eyes away. Like you don’t have enough problems, without that. He slapped himself mentally. Harry looked at the guy longer than Tom did, but returned his attention where it belonged, just like Tom had. A job to do, he reminded himself, putting his pain aside.

All the same, as he entered the dog side of the building, he looked back, couldn’t help it, some hope, some excitement, forcing its way past his hard defenses. But the guy was gone.

The room was as jammed as he’d feared. His anxiety spiked. Danger hid in crowds. Crowds attracted danger, crazy people with bombs trying to kill themselves where they could kill as many innocent people with them as they could. Crowds = death. Once you’d made that connection, it was like circuits printed on a circuit board.

But that’s what he had to do. That’s why he was here on a Saturday, because this was part of his therapy.

Tom!

Hey, Tom!

A palpable wave of relief rolled over him. Carrie and Elaine were volunteers, big girls with big hearts who enfolded him in their arms without asking for permission, accepting the way he tightened up, and holding on anyway. Thank God they were here today.

And hi to you too, Harry! Carrie said, rubbing Harry’s face. What are you guys doing, huh? You guys recruiting today?

Yeah, that’s the plan. Any good prospects?

I think I have a likely candidate, Elaine said. Come on, you guys.

People beamed at Harry as he and Tom walked down the corridor. His vest marked him as something special. Someone special, Tom thought. The agency he helped run made a point of giving the dogs human names, so that the men and women who got them thought of them as people – not that they wouldn’t anyway, but it was a boost to the process, they’d found.

Harry kept close to Tom, bumping up against him, reminding him he was there, not letting him disassociate. Elaine led him to a small play room. I’ll be right back, she smiled.

Tom and Harry savored the quiet of the play room, whose windows let him see the action out in the halls but muffled the sound.

I did it, he said to Harry, who wagged his tail approvingly. He’d cut his alcohol intake way back since getting off the pills, but the promise of a couple of beers had been the enticement for doing this on a Saturday, for breaking through another barrier to being normal again, whatever that was.

Discipline, it’s all about discipline, he reminded himself. Remember your training, this is just another stressful situation that your training will help you get through.

Elaine came back with a Golden Retriever, which was a good sign. In Tom’s experience, bigger dogs were better, for a lot of reasons, one of which was that their size was physically comforting when you were curled up with them. His anxiety diminished as he went into work mode, evaluating the dog, watching him relate to Harry, checking for signs of abuse that might make him too nervous for the work.

Suzie’s only been here two weeks, Elaine said, knowing the drill by now. Tom had taken dozens of dogs out of the shelter to be service dogs in the last year, and she knew the profile he needed. She was dropped off by a family that lost their house; they were heartbroken to let her go. So she’s from a good home, she’s got all her shots, she’s fixed…

Great, thanks, Elaine. Tom looked Suzie in the eye. She gave him the look he wanted to see, expectant, friendly, with a clear desire to please. I’ll take her on trial, but she looks like a keeper. He ruffled Suzie’s ears and she panted happily. Let’s get her paper done and get her on her way.

Jamie couldn’t find Nina in the cat area. Have you seen Nina? he asked another volunteer.

Oh, yeah, she went over to the dog side for a sec.

Great, he lied. Thanks.

He was over there, Jamie thought as his legs took him across the lobby to the dog side. Are you really going over there to see Nina? he asked himself. Or do you just want one more look at him, a couple more mental photographs for your fantasy file? But what else did he have but his fantasies, right? What else would he