at a street corner, waiting for the light to turn green. The crowding had unsettled Jamie, and he’d begun to rock back and forth on his feet, one hand flapping. But when the light turned green, and the stream of people began to move across the street, brushing past Jamie, it had startled him so badly that he wouldn’t move. Max had tried to urge him on, but Jamie would not step off that curb. His reluctance prompted some jerk to yell at him, and that was it—Jamie began to melt down.
Max was familiar with Jamie’s outbursts and was not alarmed. He knew what to do. But when a grown man—a big man at that—began to frantically flap his hands and make strange, loud noises that sounded like a distressed animal, mothers grabbed their children and men moved out of the way.
Fortunately, they’d been close to the hotel and Max had steered Jamie back to their room and talked him through his panic, employing the skills Jamie had learned to calm himself. And then he ordered room service. They spent the evening cooped up in a hotel room, Jamie poring over his dog books, and Max staring out the window or flipping channels.
But when Saturday dawned—as in, the sun was hardly up—Jamie shook Max awake. He was dressed. “Dog show,” he said.
“Jesus, Jamie, it’s seven in the morning,” Max had complained. He’d rolled away from his brother and had tried to go back to sleep, but Jamie just walked to the other side of the bed and said, “Dog show,” and thrust a piece of paper into Max’s face. It was a schedule his dad had printed for Jamie, and Jamie had circled hounds and herding groups. The start time was ten.
“We’ve got plenty of time,” Max said, and rolled the other way.
Jamie came around the bed and shoved his shoulder. “Dog show.”
Max got up.
Jamie grew increasingly anxious as the clock slowly ticked toward ten o’clock. He wanted to go. When Max told him he’d have to wait, that the dog show hadn’t started, Jamie punched his fists against the wall and bed.
Carly had FaceTimed him in the middle of Jamie’s frustration. Max had had exactly two thoughts: one, that she looked incredibly sexy and hungover. Her hair was a tangled mess around her face, her eyes luminous in the natural light wherever she was. And two, he did not want her to see Jamie’s meltdown. He didn’t know why, exactly, but he didn’t. He wanted to stay on the line and talk to her, but Jamie was getting agitated, and he’d had to cut the call short.
He and Jamie arrived at the arena at nine thirty. Jamie hadn’t even allowed Max to stop for a cup of coffee.
The Midwest Regional Dog Show was a benched show, which meant they could walk through where the dogs were being groomed and talk to handlers. Or rather, Max talked while Jamie stared at the dogs. From there, they attended the agility trials, and then the best in breed. Jamie sat on the edge of his seat, and when he saw a dog he liked, he’d say, “Good dog.”
By the time they reached the evening judging rounds, Max was running out of steam. He wanted a gin and tonic. And/or a burger. Whichever came first, whichever he could get his hands on. But Jamie made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere until the last dog was shown.
Still, they passed the day without incident and returned to the hotel and spent another evening with room service, Jamie poring over his books, Max restless and wishing he could have a very stiff drink.
Sunday began much the same way as Saturday. Max woke with a start, and there Jamie sat, not two feet from him, dressed and ready to go. “For fuck’s sake, Jamie,” Max said, blinking back the sleep. “You have to stop acting like some weird stalker.”
“Dog show.”
“Yeah, I know,” Max said wearily. “Believe me, I know.” Max was a dog guy, but this was a lot of dog.
He got up and showered. The trouble started when he packed up their things to store with the concierge. They were leaving on a seven o’clock flight back to Austin. Jamie didn’t want to store their things. He began to rock back and forth, flapping his hands, growling. Max tried to explain to him why it was necessary—they had to check out, had to leave their bags someplace safe. Jamie whirled around and pushed the desk