A Much Younger Man - Z.A. Maxfield Page 0,21
decided to let them go.”
“It’s kinder that way, isn’t it?”
“That’s the story I’m sticking with.”
He blinked up at me, his fathomless blue eyes wide and worried. “Isn’t it, though? Better than keeping an animal that’s in pain?”
“How should I know?” I said irritably. I regretted it immediately, but the words just poured out. “It’s not like we can ask them, is it?”
“No,” he said softly. “If only, huh? And if only we let people go when it was their time instead of prolonging lives even when—”
“I didn’t mean to take you back there.”
“Everything takes me back.” Anger clipped his words. “Going forward takes me back.”
“I’m sorry.”
“When my biodad died, it was bad. I really loved him, and it was a work accident. He went quick. My mother had already remarried, and I hardly had time to grieve. Right on the heels of that, Bryce got sick, and I sort of realized it’s not like were on a train heading for a destination. We’re just…made of transition, and the only thing anyone can count on is this one moment right now.” He glanced at Callie. In the streetlight she was nothing more than a glossy shadow, like a seal or an otter, with rich amber eyes. “That’s probably depression talking. Obviously, I don’t see my therapist anymore either.”
“Do you need to? We can make that happen.”
“Don’t be silly. I’m fine.” He hitched his pack to shift the weight.
“Well, I’m still sorry I started us down that road.”
He laughed. “I’ve been travelling that road a long time. That’s why you were drinking. You hate having to put a pet down.”
“I don’t hate it.” In my line of work, hating euthanasia didn’t make any more sense than hating surgery or vaccinations. It was all part of the job, and also, in some cases, the only responsible thing to do. Would Callie forgive me if I had to put her down? Would Beck? Animals in pain are all eyes. They often hide how sick they are. Their stillness is haunting as I push the drugs that relax them enough for me to administer the one that will stop their hearts.
“It’s okay to feel ambivalent about that part of your job.”
“What I hate is standing there like a moron when some adult introduces their child to the concept of death.” I don’t know why I confessed this now. I’d never said the words out loud. “It’s unbearable when children cry.”
Beck reached over and gave my shoulder a squeeze as we walked. He couldn’t have said anything more eloquent than that brief, comforting touch. In fact, if he had spoken, it would have made things worse.
It was his empathy—his quiet kindness—that made him so good with Callie. I liked that about him, and I liked him, despite our age difference. I felt more in tune with him in that moment than I had with anyone in a long time.
“Are you hungry?” I ignored the warning voice in my head. You’re getting too involved. You don’t really know him. Someone his age ought to be off-limits, even as a friend. Especially someone as attractive and wonderful as Beck. It didn’t seem to matter what my brain thought; my heart overrode it. “I have dinner in the Crock-Pot. I planned to make a salad to go with it. There’s plenty for two.”
“I could eat.” He glanced over shyly. “Are you sure you have enough?”
“I always make a ton more than I need and freeze it for lunches.”
“Okay, yeah. Thanks. If you’re sure it’s no trouble.”
“C’mon.” Neither of us spoke as I led him to my house, which did nothing to assuage the guilty feeling I had that I was ignoring basic common sense.
What if he gets the wrong idea? Or the right one?
What if he knows exactly what’s been on your mind?
You’re playing with fire.
We made our way up the street that eventually led to my house, and I stopped.
“This is me.”
He took in my little craftsman house with its wide, well-lit porch and wicker chairs and charm and said, “Nice.”
I smiled. “Thanks.”
Through friend and real estate agent Ken, I’d purchased the place from a family trust. Whoever had lived there before hadn’t changed a thing since the fifties. I’d gutted the place and given it a clean contemporary look by opening up the walls between the kitchen, dining, and living rooms. The décor was a little on the nautical side. I took some ribbing from my friends over that, but my tiny bungalow-by-the-sea suited me perfectly.
I unlocked