Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 668(@200wpm)___ 535(@250wpm)___ 446(@300wpm)
Me: YOU CAN’T KEEP HIM. OR NAME HIM TODD.
Me: Just chill for like a few more minutes and release the dog when I text “sunset”
Finn: A few more minutes? I’ve already been standing here trying to keep this puppy hidden behind a fucking bush for like thirty minutes. This plan is UNHINGED.
Me: This plan is perfect. You’ll see. Just wait.
Next to me, Julia stretches her arms overhead and takes a deep breath. “This was a good idea,” she says, sighing like peace incarnate. “I always forget how much I love Central Park.”
“Same,” I say. “It’s even better when you’re not dodging tourists or rogue saxophone players or those nice ladies who are always trying to sell mangoes.”
She smiles, and the light hits her just right, and I swear to God I almost abort the mission just to blurt out, “I love you! Here’s a puppy and my soul!”
Instead, I keep my shit together and text Finn one word.
Me: sunset
Nothing happens.
I text again.
Me: SUNSET
Me: GO
Me: UNLEASH THE BEAST
Finn: Hang on, he’s tangled in the leash.
Oh my fucking God. Get it together, man!
Finn: Okay. Okay. RELEASED.
And then, like a miracle, he appears. The cute, adorable goldendoodle puppy bounds across the grass like a teddy bear on a sugar rush, ears flopping, tail wagging like he’s never known sadness.
“Oh my God!” Julia gasps when she spots him running toward us. “Look at that puppy, Ace!”
And since he’s the best dog in the whole damn world, he literally runs straight to Julia’s feet. We don’t share DNA, but he’s clearly my son.
She crouches down and picks him up, snuggling him into the crook of her neck.
“He doesn’t have a collar,” I say, eyes wide like I didn’t orchestrate this entire thing. “I wonder if he’s lost, Jules…”
“Aw.” She cuddles him closer. “Are you lost? Did you lose your mommy or daddy?”
Technically, he just found his mommy and daddy, and I’ve been training him for this moment by having my mom put articles of clothing I’ve been stealing from Julia’s closet with him every night since I got him from Felicia and stashed him at my parents’ place.
The puppy immediately launches himself at her and starts licking her face with joyful abandon. She laughs so hard she falls onto the grass, and he climbs on top of her like he’s found his soul mate.
I kneel beside them and point out his tag-less neck again. “He doesn’t have a collar or tag.” I make a show of standing to my feet and looking around the park. “And I don’t see anyone looking for him.”
“Aw, poor baby,” Julia says, rubbing his fluffy head. “We can’t just leave him, Ace.”
“No,” I agree solemnly. “We definitely can’t leave him.”
“Someone must be missing him.”
“Or…” I say, voice low, heart racing, “maybe he was meant to find us.”
She looks up at me slowly. “Are you saying this is fate?”
Yes. Yes, Julia Brooks. I am.
“I mean, if we had to take him, we’d have to co-parent. Like…full joint custody.”
“I think I could handle that,” she says, smiling. “He’s literally perfect, but surely this is someone’s dog, Ace. I mean, what are the odds that a puppy just finds its way into Central Park without an owner?”
“I’ll check shelters tomorrow, just in case he’s lost or someone’s looking for him.”
“Good idea.” Julia nods, still cuddling our furbaby son to her chest. “And what if we don’t find anyone?”
Internally, I’m screaming in excitement. Externally, I say, “Well…then I guess we need to give him a name.”
Her answering smile is blinding. I casually pretend I’m chill, while internally, I’m thinking, this is it.
This is one of the moments Julia will remember when she tells our future children how she fell in love with me.
Tuesday, July 22nd
Julia
I light the last candle and turn off the lights, running to the coffee table where my two favorite gal pals are waiting. Scottie is reclined on her wheelchair, legs propped up on a carefully stacked set of pillows, and Kayla leans on the couch behind her.
I plop onto the pink pile rug on the kitchen side of the table.
The Ouija board Kayla brought sits menacingly in the center like it knows we’re not ready, but I swallow down the nerves and rub my hands together dramatically. “Let’s do this.”
Yoko Ono—the dog—is bouncing beside Kayla, desperate for attention. She scratches the back of his neck lovingly, but it’s not good enough for him. He starts licking her ear like it’s steak, and she giggles and pushes him down lightly.
“Yoko, come here!” I call, fully aware that he’s about as obedient as a windstorm. But maybe one day he’ll listen. Manifestation is key. I circle the table and grab him, holding his thrashing little body in my lap as I take a seat next to Scottie again on the pink pile rug.