She’d grown attached to him, and now she had to say good-bye. Tyler would mourn, and he’d loved Brinkley more than anyone did.
With a lump in her throat, she’d made an appointment for first thing next week to have Brinkley put to sleep. That meant the dog would be in pain for another three days. The vet, obviously sensing Elisa’s despair, had given Brinkley some pain medication so at least he could be comfortable for the remainder of his life—which wasn’t long.
The dog whimpered from the backseat when Elisa pulled her car into the garage. He was thin, but still pretty heavy. Elisa lifted him from the backseat as gingerly as she could and struggled to get him into the house. She almost dropped him once and managed to settle him on his favorite spot on the living room floor. He responded with another low whimper.
“I’m sorry, buddy.” She stroked his ears as he blinked up at her. “Don’t look at me like that.” It pierced her heart every time he did.
A single tear rolled down her cheek when she went back to the car and retrieved her purse and pain pills the vet had given her. How was she supposed to get Brinkley to swallow a pill that probably didn’t taste very good?
Just put the pill on his tongue, as far back into his throat as you can get it. If you get it far enough, he’ll swallow it.
She remembered the vet’s instructions but wasn’t sure if she could shove her hand into a dog’s mouth. Then her eyes connected with Brinkley’s sad ones, and Elisa knew she could do it. It wasn’t fair to leave the animal suffering the way he was. Putting her hand in his mouth was little compared to what he was going through.
She shook a pill onto her hand and walked to the dog. Should she wash it down with water? Use food to disguise the pill? Would it have a taste? The directions on the bottle didn’t say anything other than the dosage.
Brinkley’s eyes were closed, so Elisa assumed he’d gone to sleep. At least she hoped he was just sleeping. A nudge to his head had him peeling one eye open. Thank goodness.
“You’re probably going to hate me for this, but it has to be done.” She sat on her knees in front of him and lifted his head in her hand.
Using her thumb and index finger, she pried Brinkley’s mouth open. It wasn’t easy, as though the dog already knew she was going to shove a tiny pill down his throat. Once she had his mouth open enough, she placed the pill as far down his tongue as she could get it. He hacked, much the way a cat does when it’s trying to get a hairball out. The pill landed on the hardwood floor next to Elisa’s knee.
One attempt down. Twenty to go.
“Okay, let’s try this again.” She picked up the pill and repeated the process five times before getting the stupid thing down. Then she dragged his water bowl over so he could wash the medicine down. The dog wasn’t interested in water. Or maybe he couldn’t muster the strength to roll his tongue out.
Elisa had always had a hard time with the idea of euthanizing animals. But allowing Brinkley to continue to live like this was just cruel. She continued to stroke the dog’s ears for several more minutes before she had to get up and wipe away the tears that had leaked out. Her only consolation was that Brinkley hadn’t been alone during his last weeks. She’d done the best she could with the dog, and soon he wouldn’t be in pain anymore.
In order to give herself a distraction, she went to her office and booted up her computer. The images she’d captured that morning for a job she’d done were still on the camera. She’d have to upload more than two hundred photos to her computer so she could browse through them one by one on her photo software. It was a long and tedious process, but it had to be done. In a few days, her client would expect photos e-mailed to her for approval. Once Elisa had that, she would work on putting a mock-up of the brochure together. Then the rest of the woman’s payment would go into Elisa’s South America fund. One more good job and she’d have enough to visit Marcello.
For the next several hours she pored over one photo after another. Each shot of the same dish was almost exactly the same. Only her trained eye could pick up slight variations in lighting and angles. Even that minute detail could make the difference between a good brochure and a great one.
Only when her vision blurred from staring at the computer screen so long did Elisa take a break. All that time, and she’d only gone through half the pictures. She still had several more hours of work to do.
Her stomach grumbled because she hadn’t eaten anything since that morning. Long ago, she’d trained herself to go long periods of time with nothing more than light snacks in her belly.
She strolled into the kitchen and made herself a ham and cheese sandwich. Not really glamorous or filing, but she didn’t feel like making a whole big to-do for dinner. Plus it wasn’t worth it for just her. Just as she was about to take a bite of her underwhelming dinner, Brinkley whimpered. He had a habit of whimpering and whining a lot, even in his sleep, because he was in so much pain. Elisa set her sandwich down and went to the animal. Maybe she could soothe him or… hell, she didn’t know. What could she do for him? She’d already given him his pain pills.
Tears spilled over her eyelids as she stroked a hand over his head. The fur was softest on his head. Elsewhere it was rather coarse, though Elisa had tried to remedy that by brushing him regularly. Brinkley had liked to be brushed. She was afraid to drag a brush along his fur now for fear the slightest touch to his legs would cause more pain.
A knock came from her front door, and Elisa furiously swiped away the wetness on her cheeks. She wasn’t particularly in the mood to have a guest, but she changed her mind after looking through the peephole. With equal parts excitement and apprehension, Elisa opened the door.
The small tilt of a smile on Brody’s mouth disappeared when he saw Elisa’s face.
“What’s wrong?” he asked as he stepped through the door.
Oh, his wide shoulders underneath the black T-shirt he had on looked so inviting. What she wouldn’t give to lay her head there for a bit of comfort. His arms would feel so good around her: strong and comforting, like he would never leave her.
He just might.
Don’t think about that.
“It’s nothing,” she replied with a sniff.
Brody set the bag he carried in one hand on the kitchen table. “It’s not nothing,” he argued. His hands came up to her face and cupped her cheeks. They were so big and warm. “What’s the matter?”
Another fat tear rolled down her cheek, which Brody brushed away with his thumb. “Brinkley has tumors,” she choked out. “He has to be put down.”
“Ah, shit.” His arms came around her in a solid and reassuring hug. Elisa went willingly because there wasn’t anywhere else she wanted to be. There wasn’t anyone else she wanted by her side as she mourned the loss of this dog that had come to mean a lot to her.
“I just keep thinking about Tyler and how much he wants this dog,” she mumbled into his chest. Her tears were rapidly soaking his shirt. “I don’t know how I’m going to tell him.”
One of Brody’s hands massaged the back of Elisa’s head. “Why don’t you let me worry about Tyler? He’s dealt with this kind of thing before, so he knows how it goes.”
She lifted her head and blinked watery eyes at him. “Won’t he be devastated?”
“He’ll be upset, yes. But he’ll be okay. Kids are resilient.”
Okay, enough of being a basket case. He didn’t come over here to watch you sob like a maniac.