The Beginning of After

dog, alone in a kennel across the aisle. It wasn’t any recognizable breed, just a medium-sized mutt with short, silky brown fur.
    “That’s Ophelia,” said Eve.
    Ophelia stared sadly at the two cockers, and it seemed a little cruel that she had this view, like the lonely girl forced to share a lunch table with a pair of BFFs. Then she noticed me watching her and thumped her tail.
    Eve came over and crouched down again to gently grab Ophelia’s muzzle through the chain-link door. “We’re hoping to find a home for her, if you know anyone.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “About a month ago, one of our clients found her lying by the side of the road. She’d been hit by a car. No collar, no tags. Totally skinny and practically starving. She had a broken leg. Look at her, she’s the biggest sweetheart.”
    “Dr. B just fixed her up for free?”
    “Yes. He does that occasionally. There are too many animals like Ophelia out there. People just suck sometimes.” She spat that last part out, as if wanting to erase the bad taste of it, then added, “Dr. B is amazing that way. He knows I do everything I can to adopt them out. We’ve had pretty good luck.”
    A wistfulness came over Eve, who was clearly crushing pretty hard on our employer. After a moment she said, “Wanna see the kitties? I have two angels I’m trying to place.”
    On the bottom row of the “cat room,” as it was called, was a large cage occupied by tabby twins. They weren’t kittens, but they weren’t quite full-grown cats. As soon as they saw our legs step into view, one reached out its paw through the bars and the other pressed itself against the metal so its fur pushed through in little squares.
    “Dumped on our doorstep in a sealed box. With duct tape.”
    “That is horrible,” I said sincerely.
    “Like I said, people can suck.”
    “Why didn’t they just take them to the shelter?” I asked as Eve opened the cage and handed a cat to me. It started purring the second we made contact.
    “I’m glad they didn’t. The county shelter’s a hellhole,” she said. “They’re overcrowded this time of year and putting down animals after just a few days.” Eve looked at the cat, ecstatic in my arms. “That’s Denali,” she said. “You sure you don’t want one?”
    I thought of Elliot and Selina. We’d gotten them by pure chance. Elliot was part of a litter born to one of Toby’s friend’s pets, and Selina came crying on our doorstep one rainy night with an open wound in the scruff of her neck. It was like how people find other people to be in love with, all random and accidental and lucky.
    “I have two already who would kill me,” I said. “But I’ll spread the word.”
    “That would be great. Dr. B is very patient but he gives me limits; only one cage at a time in each room for the rescues.”
    She sighed, like this was something she had to work on.
    “Come on, let me show you the phones.”

Chapter Fourteen

    I had arranged to work at Ashland in the afternoons until the end of June. When Eve asked me “How was school?” I’d just smile and say, “Good, thanks.”
    I’d never said I was in school. They’d just assumed. It didn’t feel like lying.
    The end of the year was happening without me. Finals and yearbooks and the exhibition baseball game with our rival high school. Meg would call daily with updates, thinking that I’d want to be kept in the loop. I wasn’t sure what I wanted. I didn’t like being absent from all that stuff, but working at the animal hospital made me feel like I’d gone away, and I wanted to be away more.
    Suzie Sirico had said during one of our morning sessions, “The hardest part about grieving is that people often have to do it in the spotlight. Everyone’s watching them to see what they’re going to do next, how they react to things. So I’m glad that you got out of the spotlight.”
    Out of the spotlight, I answered phones and filed paperwork while Eve checked clients in and out. Every minute at work was full of something and kept my mind busy. At night I was so tired that I slept, albeit with dreams so tense and vivid I woke up each morning drenched in sweat.
    Walking the dogs only made me miss Masher. Which then made me wonder how David was doing, what David was doing. If having Masher was helping him.
    Then I thought of David’s shapeless eyes, his bony elbows poking out of a brightly colored but stained polo shirt, and the almost friendly sound of his voice the last time