Puppy Love for Christmas

Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Christopher blinked at the offered cup. He had no idea what to do. The lid bore a pink lipstick stain. The implications of accepting were innumerable. First of all, indirect kiss. That alone was enough to make his footing unsteady. Second, to decline would send the wrong message. Sabrina wouldn’t mind. She was cool like that. But he wanted desperately to accept and if he said no then would Sabrina find out that he was saying no because he was afraid of her finding out he liked her? But would saying yes reveal his feelings too?

The conundrum she had placed on his shoulders. She looked up at him expectantly. Innocent of the thoughts running through his head. He was more than aware of the obvious height difference between them. He had grown several inches since the night they rescued puppies together. Unfortunately, the lankiness of his frame remained unshakable. He still bumped into things. Long limbs did that.

The cup remained aloft, closer to his personal space than hers. A few seconds of hesitation felt like a decade. If he waited any longer the silence would curdle and turn awkward. That was the last thing he wanted after seeing her again brought back all the feelings he thought he had forgotten. Apparently, his brain just filed those away, ready to retrieve at a moment’s notice. He knew they would run into each other eventually since he had planned on staying. He was already in Trevor, after all. Might as well enjoy the festival. But he hadn’t thought they’d actually see each other the second he got back into town.

Making up his mind, he took the cup in his hand. The tips of his fingers grazed the back of her hand. But instead of sipping from the cover, he removed it and drank from the rim. That was what a friend would do? Right? A small voice in the back of his head kept reminding him that it was still technically like an indirect kiss. His lips may not have touched where hers have landed but spill back. Parts of the hot chocolate currently filling his mouth had once been in her mouth.

He mentally punched himself. Sometimes the way his brain worked infuriated him. Being too smart was not always the blessing his parents thought it was. When his brain wasn’t engaged in advanced robotics or answering a particularly challenging calculus problem, it overthought the simple, common sense things in life. Like a friend offering a drink to another should have been a simple yes or no situation. Instead his brain turned it into the mechanics of an indirect kiss.

Christopher quickly capped the cup and returned it to Sabrina, who, by the way, had the prettiest curls. He was a guy and he could think the word pretty without deducting any of his manly points. And speaking of deduction, the redness of each strand remained as vivid as his memories allowed. They reminded him of autumn leaves in Boston—his home for his entire collegiate life.

The chill in the air wasn’t the slap of cold that usually permeated the whole of Trevor at that time of the year but her cheeks were still pink from the nip of Jack Frost. For a nanosecond, he entertained the urge of tracing where the color began and ended with his fingertip. Of course, that would be weird on all accounts, so his hand was promptly stuffed into the front pocket of his jacket where it rightfully belonged.

“Isn’t it just the best hot chocolate?” she asked, great expectation in her eyes. He may have missed their particular shade of green because they always reminded him of the Atlantic. And when he thought about the Atlantic he thought about home. In short, Sabrina was home in any definition of the word.

“The hot chocolate?” His brain went blank for the briefest second. “Oh right!” He finger-pistoled the cup, which he regretted instantly. “You know what, I think I need a cup for myself. Care to join me?” He saw the acceptance of his offer dawn on her face right before a wince blew it away. It led him to ask, “What is it?”

“I’m actually on my way to the Animal Sanctuary,” she said, her words filled with a mix of excitement and regret.

He recognized the name of the local shelter. “Planning on adopting? What happened to the mission of liberation?”

She laughed. If he could record the sound without seeming like a total creep, he would. It was pure. Like the jingle of bells. Like the first snow. Like presents under a Christmas tree.

“Remember the puppies we stole?” She wiggled her eyebrows when he nodded. “I actually took them to the shelter the next day. After my community service stint, I started volunteering there. Safer than stealing puppies in the middle of the night.”

“Definitely a much better alternative.”

“I run the place now.”

“Wow! If there was a right job for you running the shelter is it.”

“I’m also the town vet now.”

“Marcy finally retired?”

Sabrina smiled. “She handed over the reins last year. Actually, Our Adopt Don’t Shop event will be part of the festival this year. We’re trying to raise awareness, not only in the community, but in other towns about the number of pets that end up in shelters at the end of the holidays because they aren’t exactly gifts you can return at the store.”

“Ah, so instead of buying, you’re encouraging people to adopt instead.”

“Exactly!” Her excitement tripled. “Or make a donation toward helping the shelter stay open. We’re one of the only none kill shelters in the area and we specialize on special needs dogs and cats since they are the hardest to find homes for. Donations help us save animals from high kill shelters that are on their last leg, so to speak.”

If he thought he liked Sabrina before, he liked her even more now. The conviction in her words. The compassion in her eyes. If she were the head of a cult, he would join wholeheartedly.

“You really found a way to live this stuff, huh?” he asked, more than a little amazed by her.

The pink already on her cheeks grew a shade deeper. “You’ve never felt true love until you’ve had an animal depending on you for their survival. The love that they return is unconditional and pure. People who think otherwise are morons.”

“Hey, I completely agree.” He raised his hands in surrender to the heat that entered her voice. “I still miss Einstein.”

Her face fell at the mention of his loyal golden retriever who had been with him since he was five-years-old. That dog followed him and Sabrina around the hotel when they were growing up. He was the unofficial mascot of the Wakefield. It was always the three of them. He ran when they ran. He ate when they ate. He slept when they did. They were a trio until Einstein passed away a year before Christopher left for MIT.

“I think my love for animals and animal rights came from that old boy,” Sabrina said, the fondness in her voice echoing the emotions running through Christopher at the memories flooding him of the old days. “He was the best dog.”

“I have dreams where we’re all walking along the beach and collecting shells and sea glass along the way.”

A sheen of moisture filled Sabrina’s eyes before she inhaled deeply and blinked repeatedly. As she exhaled, she said, “I love those walks. I miss those walks.”

The invitation for one of those walks reached the tip of his tongue only to be quashed at the last second. “Didn’t you say you were headed to the Animal Sanctuary?”

The return to an earlier topic spurred Sabrina into action. “Thank you for reminding me! I think I’m already running late.”

“Can I come along?” he asked, matching his steps to her quick pace.

“You want to go to the shelter?” She looked both ways before crossing the street onto the next block of stores that lined the town square. A thrift store lived side by side with a local grocer, a deli, and Trevor’s only souvenir shop.

“I said I would help in any way that I could.” A cough escaped him. He scratched a sudden, persistent itch on his neck.

“The shelter can always use whatever help it can get. How are you with cuddling kittens?”

“There’s such a thing?” He cleared his throat, which was feeling a little tight. His insides were growing hotter by the second.

“Yes.” She giggled. “Or you can help feed the dogs.”

“I can definitely do—” Another series of coughs cut off the rest of what he had been about to say. A light-headedness assaulted him. His vision narrowed.

“Chris?” Sabrina stopped then faced him. “Oh my God! What’s wrong with your face?”

“What?” But the word sounded slurred to his ears. He was feeling really hot. And super itchy. More than his neck now. It was all over his body.

She grabbed his arms and turned him toward one of the store windows. It might not have been a mirror, but he could see his reflection enough to know that half his face was swollen.

“OH!” he yelled. It was loud enough to startle the other people minding their own business on the sidewalk, walking on the way to their destination.

Sabrina’s eyes grew wide. “I think you’re having an allergic reaction.”

“But I didn’t eat . . .”

“The hot chocolate!”

“I’m not allergic to chocolate.” His words sounded more like “Em noth allersic to cholath.”

“There was peppermint in it,” she added after a second of thought. “But how can that be? No one is allergic to peppermint.”

His tongue was swollen enough that all he could do was point at himself and nod.

“Oh, God! Oh, God!” She looked around in panic. Then she said, pointing across the street, “The pharmacy. Hurry!”

Sabrina positioned herself behind Christopher and guided him across the street. He was still mobile enough to run. The allergy shouldn’t have gotten that bad. A pump of peppermint in a cup of hot chocolate wasn’t enough to make his face swell up. Unless . . . Sabrina asked more than the normal amount to be placed in her order.

Once they reached the opposite block of stores where the pharmacy waited, people were already giving Christopher concerned, if not frightened looks. One little girl even started crying. There was only one solution.

As soon as the double doors slide aside and the warm air in the store hit them, he headed straight for the ail with the Benadryl. He grabbed the first bottle he saw that resembled what he usually took and twisted the cap open. He downed the thing like a shot and kept going.

“Woah! Stop!” Sabrina grabbed the bottle from him. “That’s way too much.” She glanced at the label. “And this is the kind that will make you drowsy.”

“Ah craf,” he slurred. In his panic, he grabbed the wrong bottle. He wobbled.

“Chris!” Sabrina grabbed his waist and slung his arm over her shoulders.

“Sowee.” He tried his best not to put all his weight on her. Never having more than a glass of beer and only during events were social drinking was customary, the Benadryl hit him without mercy.

“I think I should bring you to the clinic. It’s just a couple of blocks away,” she said, making her way to the counter to pay for the medicine while dragging him along.

“Al be fin.” His legs crisscrossed with each step. “Jut nheed shleep.”

“Are you having trouble breathing?” the cashier asked when they reached the counter.

“Hey, Alfie,” Sabrina greeted.

Christopher shook his head.

“He took too much,” she added after Alfie smiled at her. “Is that okay? Or should I take him to see Dr. Weaver? Dogs, I can work with, but people?”

Alfie shook his head, examining the bottle. “He’ll just be loopy for a while. Just have him sleep it off. Didn’t know you were back, Chris. Long time.”

“Forth de holdayz.” A floppy smile stretched across his lips. The itching had stopped. He counted that as an improvement. But, then again, he couldn’t feel much of anything at the moment so maybe the itching hadn’t really stopped and he was just way too numb.

Sabrina slapped a ten onto the counter and said her goodbyes to Alfie, who they went to high school with so long ago. Actually, almost anyone who worked the counter at any of the stores was a classmate or an upper classman in some form or the other. Everyone knew everyone in Trevor. In less than an hour, news of his return and subsequent allergic reaction would have spread through the entire town.

“Come on, Drunky,” she teased. “Time to get you to bed.”

“Anmal shetler?” he still had the sense to ask.

“I’ll text them. Don’t worry about it.”

“Buth—”

“No,” she interrupted him as they zigzagged out of the pharmacy. “I’m taking you to the hotel and keeping an eye on you until you’re back on your feet.”

The part of Christopher’s brain that wasn’t muddled by the antihistamine roaring through his system liked the idea of being nursed back to health by Sabrina. Sadly, he couldn’t dwell on the thought because like a lame spaceship limping away after a fierce battle all his systems diverted to necessary functions, chiefly walking without falling over.