In his dream, he had no legs. He was just a head and torso, sitting at the desk, typing. He didn’t have a special chair, either. In the dream, he was sitting on the same chair as always, with rollers on the legs. When he typed, the vibration of his fingers moved across the keyboard made his torso shift and sway. Since the chair had no arms, his torso would incline in the direction of the hand he was typing with. It was strange, but he wasn’t afraid of falling sideways. He felt fearless, and oddly enough, inspired.
Then a song began to play very loudly, somewhere in the background. It was Mozart or Beethoven or one of those classical composers. Something in his head made him yearn to tap his toe— but he had no toes. He woke himself up and let out a scream.
Jayne and Buddy came running, throwing open the door. “You have an Apple imprint on your cheek,” Jayne said once she realized he was just fine.
“Sorry,” he said.
“Dinner’s nearly ready,” she informed him.
“Okay,” he said.
She made the motion to close the door behind her, but he said it was okay to leave it open. She had a quizzical expression on her face, but she didn’t say anything more.
Once he joined her in the kitchen, he went to the fridge for a beer, and they ate dinner in a pleasant but not talkative environment. They loved each other, but sometimes love was not enough.
Not enough when Jayne found out she could not have the family she wanted. She had been through test after test, and everything seemed to be working a-ok. And then he was tested, and their hopes and dreams just fell apart. He didn’t have enough healthy swimmers, and that’s why their attempts at having a family had been permanently dashed.
At first, she was really gracious about it. It was almost like she was relieved, because the problem was his instead of hers—which was absolutely fine—but it somehow made him feel hurt. He never talked to her about it. Or anyone else, for that matter.
Now they never really talked about other options, like adoption or In Vitro or surrogates. The idea of any of those things did not appeal to him. In his heart of hearts, he felt Jayne deserved someone better than him. Someone who could give her everything she wanted.
It was about that time when he and Jayne had been driving home from somewhere and they noticed a pet shelter. Homeless dogs and cats. The couple hadn’t considered the option of adopting a pet before.
“We can take a look,” Jayne suggested.
“I guess it can’t hurt,” he’d agreed.
Once inside the shelter, the barking and meowing hit them hard. Two Cockatoos joined in the chatter.
He felt claustrophobic, and he wanted to get out.
Jayne began talking to one of the Cockatoos, and they seemed to like the tone of her voice. She looked at him with a hopeful expression on her face.
“I don’t agree with the caging of birds,” he said.
“Hmmm,” she said as she moved along toward the cats. “So many of them,” Jayne observed. “It would be difficult to choose.”
“I’d prefer a dog,” he said.
“Hmmm,” she repeated.
Consequently, their wandering around the shelter led them to Buddy. His name then was not Buddy.
They had called him Buster, and he had been at the shelter for just over a month. He was a big ball of fur, with feet too large for his body. He clumsily made his way toward them, stumbling and crashing, all of the while the dog walker tried unsuccessfully to rein him in. But it was like Buster had a one-track mind.
He made his way straight for them. He splayed his body on the ground at their feet and looked right into his eyes, and there was no question in that moment that Buster was going to be adopted that day.
“Can I change his name to Buddy?” he asked.
“I don’t know—try it on,” the dog walker suggested.
“Come here, Buddy,” he said. “Come here, boy.”
Buddy’s ears went back and he jumped up into his arms. They became a family of three on that day, and suddenly, their entire lives revolved around Buddy.
His eyes still welled up every time he remembered that moment. He would definitely miss Buddy, and he would definitely miss Jayne, but they would get over it. They would move on, in time, and they would be better for it.
Or at least that is what he kept telling himself.
In the evening, they went to bed at the same time. She read a book, and he tried to read, but nothing could hold his attention. So he just thought and stared and thought and stared. And when Jayne talked to him about the book she was reading, he nodded, but he wasn’t really listening, and she wasn’t really expecting him to. Buddy was at the end of the bed, snoring long before they were.
In the night, he would get up and walk up and down and up and down. He didn’t let Buddy walk with him because his nails on the hallway floor would certainly awaken Jayne.
At some point in the night, he decided he was acting foolishly. Rashly.
He told himself he simply had to get through another week at work, and then he would decide.
He was stalling, this he knew but nothing had changed.
It was inevitable.
Chapter Five