Chapter Text
Quiet, the way houses are when they’ve been empty for a little while. Quiet that has seeped into the plaster on the walls, pushing out little creatures that were living inside them with a whispering encouragement that they might be brave, venture forth, claim this vast and endless space for themselves in the absence of warm bodies that might otherwise deter them.
That smell they always had, a little like neglect and dust, and it caught at the back of her throat and seemed to try to stir something in the thick of her stomach and at the back of her mind, too, so she shook her head and stepped further inside.
Simple. Plain. As though the landlord kept it as impersonal and lackluster as possible.
But livable. Definitely livable, though, and she started imagining where she’d put her furniture almost instantly, and smiled a little grimly to herself.
Fine. It was fine. It was more than fine, and it would be comfortable in time. Comfortable enough. Comfortable enough for now. As comfortable as she’d ever need to be, probably.
Wandering through. Up. Around. Dogs in the car and movers on their way, and she should probably get the loves into the yard before they got here to avoid the stress of trying to manage it all at once.
But something lost. Always something a little lost, in coming to a new house. Lives it had lost. Memories it had lost. People and heartbreaks and celebrations and ghosts it had lost.
She couldn’t offer it much. Another ghost, maybe. And a little care, perhaps.
Just a little care.
Sweaty work, moving. Grunts and strains and cross brows and the dogs all hated it, but made themselves at home outside in the contained little concreted yard well enough while she lifted and instructed and asked and fretted, just a little, at the careless way the men dumped the boxes onto the kitchen counters.
She felt a pull across her right shoulder blade and stopped, leaving them to it for a few minutes to step out and be with the dogs.
Fresh, the air. The smell of earth and sun-touched grasses and faintly, so faintly, the scent of what might have been meat cooking on a grill not too far away.
Not like the city at all. Not the noise, not the pollution that had left her nostrils blackened inside so that every sneeze in the winter had shown her just how speckled with it her lungs must have been inside her.
Quiet like the house, too, and she stepped out of the back gate into the little lane that ran behind the houses.
Not a sound out here. Not a shout, not a yell, not a whirring, angry roar of machinery or construction, either, and she smiled again, stretching her arms out.
Warmer, this time. Like the air. Because it was gentle on her skin and not stifling, and as she stepped up to the ivy-strewn wall to look out across the farmland she saw that it stretched for miles.
And miles.
And miles beyond.
“Hi, Mum,” she murmured, voice a little soft.
Thing was, she didn’t want to disturb the quiet.
Lovely, out here, and the setting sun was on the other side of the house, but she’d figured out that no one on any side could accidentally see her if she sat right here.
And she wanted to be outside.
The house was busy. Stressful. Stuff and things and mess and feelings everywhere. And Lizzie liked to lie outside, whenever she could, anyway. The youngsters less so, but Tess would cope. And Ollie just wanted to be wherever she was. Even better, if there was food involved.
She pushed her tuna salad around the plate.
“Caitlyn! Thank you for calling. How is the house?”
“It’s fine. It’s too big, really.”
“Are you alright? Did they get everything there in one piece?”
“Yes. Yes, all fine.”
“And what’s it like? The town?”
“The town? I’m not sure. I stopped at a store once I got here but that’s all so far.”
“Do the people seem nice?”
“The people?”
“Yes, the people, dear. The people in the town.”
Exasperated, then, because she was well-meaning and conversational but her mother could be hard work, sometimes.
“I don’t know about the people, yet. Like I say I haven’t really met any of them.”
That slight huff that was so quiet she almost didn’t hear it. Wouldn’t’ve done, if she hadn’t known to expect it.
“The people in the store, Caitlyn,” her mother said, barely perceptible edge in her voice as through Caitlyn was being unreasonable not to give her an answer.
Confusing, like it so often was, and she didn’t know where to put it right then.
“They were lovely,” she said, forcing that false levity into her tone.
Sometimes just going along with it was easier.
“Really welcoming and polite. I’m sure I’m going to be quite happy here,” she continued, dropping her fork and hunching over.
That’s all her mother wanted, after all. To hear that she was okay. That she was going to be okay. That she was okay with choosing to come here.
“Wonderful, Caitlyn,” her mother said, as if it was a done deal, just from what she’d said.
“Hmm.”
Time to listen, getting all the updates on everything back in Piltover. Then she missed her, and felt a little guilty for not feeling like she could do more than hmm some more, and wished she could turn time backwards or forwards or any which way that would mean seizing it, instead of feeling it slip her by with the cruel way it scorned her, light fading as the sun set somewhere to the west.
“Goodnight,” she said, quietly, at the end of the call, and stared into the dregs of her juice until she couldn’t see them anymore.
The first night went as badly as she’d thought it might, and she’d tried hard to settle the dogs in as normally as possible but none of them were happy about it, and around 3am she gave up and just went downstairs to join them.
They were fine, after that, even if she felt a little grimy for curling up with them on their beds and her shoulder hurt worse when she dragged herself into the kitchen at daybreak.
But fine. Because she had a lot to do, anyway. And they’d get there. They were good dogs. They’d be used to it in a couple of days. Adaptable, a little less like cockroaches and a little more like Spartans, and she held her head in her hands when she realised that she had too many thoughts to gather without coffee but no way of brewing any.
A long list of things to sort out. A whole week to do it, before she started the job, and a whole other list of things she’d thought, with the best will in the world, she might throw herself into right away. A book group. A running club. A yoga group. A wine club. Ten more groups and twenty more clubs.
But first things first.
The dogs. Always the dogs. She’d seen a big natural dog park marked out on the map, and thought she might have driven past it looking for that store the afternoon before.
She’d take them there. Early, really early, and she figured that no one sensible would be up this time of day so it would be perfect to try to figure it out without having to manage all three of them around anyone else.
Hopefully. Hopefully, anyway. And maybe she could find somewhere for a coffee on the way back. She’d buy a machine, she’d get round to that. It was on the list anyway. But first, this.
One thing at once. One step at once. One foot in front of the other and doing it for them was non-negotiable.
Caitlyn almost wept when she eventually found the dog park and discovered it had a little kiosk at the front gate serving coffee and bottled water.
She left the dogs in the car at first, letting herself in through the bolted gate and padding up to the young woman that stood beneath the awning.
“Hello,” she said. “Excuse me. Good morning. I’m sorry, I’m not from around here. If I want to use the park, how do I…”
The girl blinked at her, eyes heavy and tired before she seemed to brighten.
“Oh! No, y’ain’t, are ya. Right. Okay well it’s five dollars entry.”
“Five dollars?”
She saw the girl glance over at her car from beneath a shock of blue hair that had come out of her braids.
“Per dog.”
“Oh, well, that’s fine.”
Caitlyn pulled her phone out of her pocket.
The girl seemed a little surprised, and she wondered if it was cash only.
“I’m sorry, I only have… Oh, actually, I might have a twenty in my glove box, hold on.”
She started to turn.
“No change,” the girl barked.
“That’s fine,” Caitlyn breathed, hurrying back to the car.
She got the dogs out, wrapping the three leads tight around her hand, and rummaged in her glove box for the cash she knew she’d stuffed in there yesterday.
Great, great, okay, a twenty, and she wondered if she could get a coffee out of it too.
Difficult, maneuvering the gate, and the dogs were good dogs but they didn’t get it at first, and the girl just stood and watched, face impassive but sullen like a teenager. Maybe she was one.
She brightened again when Caitlyn handed over the bill.
“Thanks!”
She pocketed it, and turned, apparently done with the interaction.
“Um,” Caitlyn began, a little confused and not sure which part of herself to blame for it.
The girl glanced back.
“Are there… What are the rules, of the park? And, could I…”
“What?” the young woman barked.
Caitlyn sighed, tolerance fraying pretty thin.
“I’d like a black coffee, please. Filter is fine. And please tell me the rules, of the dog park.”
The girl blinked, before rolling her eyes and slouching into the kiosk.
“Rules’re on the sign,” she said, jabbing a finger over her shoulder.
“Thank you.”
The rules were pretty simple. Off-lead was fine, as long as the dogs had reasonable recall. No reactive dogs. No ball theft. Clean up after yourself. Close gates behind you. The town council wasn’t liable for any injury or loss that might happen within the park. Emergency numbers for signs of wildfire or injured wildlife.
Right. Right, perfect, actually. It looked like a couple of miles of open land. Ideal. Grassy. Plenty of trees. She might not see anyone at all, even at slightly busier times.
“Does it get busy?” she asked, wandering back to the counter.
“Yeah,” the girl grunted, pushing the coffee over to her. “But usually in the evenings.”
“Right. Thank you,” Caitlyn started, and then, because she thought she might be seeing quite a bit of the girl, in the weeks ahead, and it was nice to be nice, “I’ll probably come in the mornings. Around this time.”
The young woman blinked.
“Cool,” she said, as though she quite literally couldn’t think of anything else to say.
Caitlyn swallowed.
“How much for the coffee?”
“Oh. No. That’s on the house. This morning only, but don’t worry about it.”
“Oh. Thank you. I can owe you, really, it’s not-"
“Nah. It’s fine.”
“Alright. Well, thank you. Have a good morning.”
The young woman grinned, not warmly.
“Right.”
Caitlyn glanced down at the name tag on the woman’s apron.
Oh.
“Thank you for your help, Jinx,” she said, smiling, even though she just felt like giving up and going back to the house.
The young woman didn’t respond. In face, her slightly-sneering grin might have become a bit of a scowl.
Disheartened, Caitlyn led the dogs away, trying to tell herself she’d do better with the next stranger she met.
As it happened, she didn’t meet any more strangers. But she did find a notice board on her way back to the car. She’d decided to chicken out of asking the slightly unpleasant young woman for any further assistance, and was relieved to see that she wasn’t immediately visible at the kiosk.
But just behind it, a little over under the trees, a thick plastic board with information on one side about the local flora and fauna. And on the other side, protected by a little plastic door, a cork board, where people could pin notices.
She scanned them. Hoping.
Cleaners. Maths tutors. Gardeners.
Relieved, when she found about nine of them.
Dog walkers. Loads of different contact cards for dog walkers.
Back to Barksics, Pawsome Fun, Furry Friend Services.
Competitive rates, too, and she wondered if it was because there were so many of them. It didn’t matter, that part didn’t really matter, but she took photographs of each of them, mood lifting a little as she thought that she might be able to handle at least this area of her life well enough after all.
She tried them all over the next couple of days.
She did the other things, too. She got the dogs registered and booked in for their initial appointments at the local vet. She updated the address on their microchips and pet insurance accounts. She found a food distributor that had their brand, setting up a standing order for delivery once a month.
She withdrew five hundred dollars from the bank and took it to the kiosk with her the next morning, handing it to the young woman and asking her to consider it payment for the month.
The girl’s eyes lit up, and she all but snatched it, and she was especially nice to Caitlyn that morning and the next, slipping her a free terrible filter coffee, and a stale sandwich on the third day.
By the fourth day, Caitlyn had to accept that she wasn’t winning on the dog walker front.
The reviews were all pretty similar. And she didn’t really need someone to walk them. Just someone to pop in to them halfway through the day while she was at work. She’d managed to negotiate one day working from home, but she’d have to be in the office for the rest, and it was a half hour drive away from the house.
Four of the nine of them were a flat no, the slots already booked up and saying they could put her on their waiting lists but they weren’t expecting any slots to open up any time soon.
The fifth one only did small dogs. The sixth one only did two at a time. The seventh was only free three out of the four days she’d need them. The eighth could do it, but they’d be going on parental leave in a couple of months' time, and could only commit to an eight-week contract.
The ninth didn’t get back to her at all, not answering their phone, not having any voicemail option, and completely ignoring the message she sent through Facebook messenger. There was no email, no other social media. And the phone was a landline, so she couldn’t even send a WhatsApp.
Atlas Adventures, and she’d felt pretty good about that one more than the others, only because she’d overheard the young woman at the kiosk speaking to another dog walker about them.
“Oh yeah, she’s great, just give her a call,” Jinx had said.
Caitlyn felt silly, but she preferred the thought of it being a woman.
Having a key to her house. Taking care of the dogs. Being responsible for communicating about any emergencies or problems.
She supposed it didn’t matter. Clearly communication wasn’t number nine's thing, anyway, and she figured that she’d go with the parental leave guy to buy herself some time and figure it out later.
Just about to call him. Just about to dial his number.
When a messenger notification popped up on her phone.
Atlas Adventures.
Hi, thanks for your message. Sorry it’s taken me a couple of days to get back to you, I’ve been out of town.
Oh, okay, well, that was fair enough right?
Yeah I have availability on those days and times.
Please could you give me a little bit more info about the dogs? You mentioned large breed, but what large breeds, and do they have any special requirements such as lead/off-lead, aggression and wariness, and any extras like if they’ll need medication or taking to appointments or anything?
In fact, hang on.
She’d just about read to the end when another message popped through.
A document, and beneath it another message.
Here’s my new dog form. Please could you fill it in for each dog? Anything’s fine, it’s just so I can plan ahead and know what I’m in for with them 😅
Oh. Oh, right, well-
And maybe the person on the other side of the chat thought that they’d been a little too casual, with that emoji, because another message came through quickly.
I’m happy to set the time slot aside for you for a few days, so no rush, Ms Cayman.
A moment of the name slipping under her eyelids and through her brain like it was alien to her, and then she remembered.
She’d changed it, years ago, the name on her Facebook and all the others, in a bid to prevent clients from being able to find her social media accounts. How long was it since she’d even used it? Long enough ago that her profile picture was Lizzie when she was a puppy.
Hello, she typed back. Thank you for getting back to me. They’re all Dobermans, I hope that’s alright.
Then she opened the document, starting to scan through the form.
Another message popped up.
Yeah, that’s great. I have experience with dobies. Pretty popular breed these days. I don’t know if you know much about my services but I specialize in large breed. They’ll be in capable hands.
They were, she supposed, and that was more of a relief than she’d known she’d been hoping for.
Ollie was… strong. Pretty headstrong, too, and she hadn’t wanted to assume this woman wouldn’t be able to handle him, but she struggled herself sometimes with all three of them, and not many women were as tall as she was.
Lovely. There’s nothing to know, they’re all fine off-lead or on-lead, and there’s no aggression or nervousness. No long-term health conditions, no existing injuries. No history of problems of any kind. I just need someone to pop to see them in the middle of the day while I’m at work and for the price difference I may as well enlist a walk as a home visit.
A couple of minutes, the dog walker having seen the message, and she thought she might start looking over the forms again because that was surely what they wanted next.
But a brief indication of typing, and then a message coming through again.
Okay, cool. I usually arrange an initial meet, for the dogs to get to know me with the owner around before I just turn up randomly at their home. That okay with you?
Oh, right, yes, that made perfect sense.
Yes, of course.
They arranged it, for the Sunday afternoon before Caitlyn was due to start work on Monday, and she requested the payment details for the deposit.
The woman gave them.
Just give me the forms on Sunday when I swing by. Let me know your address when you can. See you Sunday, Lynn.
Lynn. Maybe that was just her name now. No one had asked her, in person, what it was. Maybe she could just be Lynn Cayman here. Really start fresh. Separate out her professional persona from her personal. Introduce herself to anyone asking as Lynn.
Maybe Lynn would find it easier to make friends than Caitlyn did. Maybe Ms Cayman would have an easier time being taken seriously than Miss Kiramman had.
She didn’t want to be either of them.
Caitlyn read over the messages in the chat again and set a reminder on her phone to send the deposit and print the forms on Sunday morning, then left her phone on the kitchen counter and went to join the dogs on the sofa in the living room.
Sunday afternoon came quickly, and she thought that she’d managed to get nearly everything sorted and ready for the next day so that after the dog walker visited she could just get comfortable and relax ahead of an early night.
She’d done the transfer over breakfast. She had the spare key for the house ready to hand over. She had the forms printed and filled, one for each dog. She thought it was sweet that the woman had asked to know the dogs’ favourite types of walk, their favourite toys, their favourite treats. Like their preferences mattered in the way a person’s did.
She’d warmed to her, at that. It really was very considerate. She thought that Atlas Adventures really might love dogs and giving them a fun time.
Of course, that couldn’t be her name. In fact, there was no confirmation they were a she at all.
It was strange, it didn’t make any sense, but she scanned over the messages again and felt a silly flicker in her stomach that came with the feeling that she was looking forwards to meeting whoever they were.
You’ve lost it, Caitlyn, she thought to herself, but touched her hair up in the mirror for maybe the third time since coming downstairs.
Just in time for the knock at the door.
Lizzie and Ollie barked, predictable and loud even though she’d shut all three of them in the living room.
“Be quiet, please. Two minutes,” she said to them, assertively, and went to the porch.
She took a breath, and huffed it out quick, before taking in another great lungful and opening the front door.
“Hello,” she said, pleasantly, and was glad she’d got the word out before fully taking in the sight of the woman before her.
Oh no.
The woman was beautiful. In a sort of dangerous, thrilling way, with muscular bare arms and a face tattoo and beautiful silvery blue eyes that shone out from beneath a shocking pink fringe above freckled cheeks.
“Um, hello, lovely to meet you, come in,” she said, pulling her eyes away from her and turning, indicating that she should follow her into the house.
It was kind of a tight squeeze in this entryway. A weird layout, and not ideal for introductions, so she slipped quickly into the house proper to where it opened into the dining room, hoping the woman would understand.
She didn’t join her right away.
The seconds ticked by, then Caitlyn heard the sound of the door closing and slow steps on the wood, and she realised how uncomfortable the woman must be just walking in here and regretted everything about how she’d just greeted her.
She was slow, coming around the corner to step into the room, and she blinked slowly, mouth a little open as she held Caitlyn’s eyes.
“Hello,” Caitlyn said again, swallowing. “Welcome. Sorry, it’s a tight squeeze in the entryway.”
The woman blinked.
She nodded.
“The dogs are just in the living room. I know you said you’re good with them, but they are rather large, and they can be quite boisterous when meeting someone new, so-"
As if on cue, all three of them gave low, excited whines.
Something in the woman’s face blew a little wide.
Caitlyn laughed, a little uncomfortable now.
“Sorry, I just thought it best to shut them away and let you catch your breath before they accosted you.”
The woman nodded.
Then maybe gathered herself, and something of a forced smile came over her features.
“Er, right. Yeah. Smart.”
Caitlyn felt the words flutter through her like something had come alive in her chest.
God. Her voice was as beautiful as the rest of her.
It wasn’t much, though. The woman wasn’t giving her much. Not much at all, and something clicked inside Caitlyn’s mind.
Anxious. The woman was anxious.
Maybe that’s why she’d chosen to work with dogs rather than people. Social anxiety.
Gentle, then. She’d be gentle with her.
She realised she was holding her own form quite tense, and tried to ignore the stupid beating of her heart and relax her shoulders.
“Would you like something to drink? A tea? Coffee? A glass of water?”
A little frown across the woman’s brow.
“No. No, thank you, er, Lynn.”
Her voice came out a little softer. A little hesitant before it said her name.
Caitlyn felt her cheeks flush a little warm.
Better to get this rectified right now before it got any worse.
“Actually, it’s Caitlyn. Caitlyn Kiramman. I have my social media profile set with a different name because of my work, but it’s… My name is Caitlyn.”
She stepped towards her, holding out a hand, as though to shake.
But surprising, then, when the woman flinched.
Shit, right, invading her personal space probably wasn’t helpful.
The woman collected herself again.
“Er, sorry, I didn’t… Not a lot of handshakes round here,” she said, laughing awkwardly, lifting one hand to the back of her neck and glancing away.
Lifting one corner of her mouth in an awkward little smirk, as though trying to look charming.
And succeeding. Succeeding so effortlessly that Caitlyn had to tell herself to get a grip.
“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t think-"
“Vi,” the woman said, then, lowering her arm again, and meeting Caitlyn’s eyes. “My name. It’s… It’s Vi. It’s… great to meet you. Caitlyn.”
Something intense, just for a moment, and Caitlyn couldn’t tell if it was because she was just that touch starved or if her brain couldn’t instinctively tell the difference between discomfort or a vibe, and she looked away.
“Vi. Lovely. That’s…”
Because it was. It was lovely. It was a lovely, soft, determined sound on the inside of her lips, like a lovely wine that filled to the roof of her mouth and ached to trickle down her throat and warm her from the inside out. It was a sound that felt right, that felt like she’d made it a hundred times. Like being kissed. Or laughing. Or crying, maybe, but not necessarily in a bad way.
Small. Tiny, really. Just two letters.
But they felt bigger than the universe. Just for a moment.
She decided that she was probably coming across as very strange, staring at the floor vacantly the way she was, and forced her eyes back up to meet the stranger’s.
“Well, alright, shall I let the dogs in to meet you, then?”
Something lit up across the woman’s entire person. Excited, maybe, and Caitlyn figured that the woman must really like dogs as much as she thought she might.
“Er, hang on, I’m not sure if-"
But they heard her, too, and all three of them whined again.
“Sorry,” Caitlyn said, striding past her to the living room door. “They love meeting new people. Just brace yourself, but they’ll settle after a minute or two.”
Not waiting, even though it kind of seemed like the woman had taken her advice to brace quite literally, because she seemed a little frozen in place.
Maybe Caitlyn had got too close, walking past her.
You never knew, really, what people had been through, after all.
Best just to get this over with then the woman could get out of here and Caitlyn could go back to a life without any gorgeous women having to be around her.
She opened the door, and, as expected, they pelted out like bullets from a gun.
They swarmed the woman before Caitlyn had even had a chance to catch her breath.
The noise was intense. Tess squealed with delight. Lizzie whined. Ollie barked, and at first Caitlyn thought she’d need to intervene in case it was aggressive, but then her eyes caught onto the woman and she froze, herself.
The woman greeted them like meeting these dogs was the highlight of her life. Never mind hesitation, or wariness, or any sort of taken aback-ness at how full-on they were.
She met the dogs exactly where they were at. Like she was a dog, too, in fact, cooing “hey, hi, hey guys,” at them, and if Caitlyn had had any reservation about whether or not she thought this woman would be able to handle them it disappeared on the spot.
“Gosh, they really like you,” she commented, crossing her arms and leaning against the wall, smiling at the joyful melee before her.
“Yeah, they always…”
The woman laughed, Tess licking at her face, and then soothed the young dog down before schooling herself a little and standing straight again.
She cleared her throat.
“Dogs like me,” Vi said, more gently, smiling maybe a little bigger than the situation warranted.
And that was just fine by Caitlyn.
Anyone who loved her dogs was absolutely just fine with her.
“I can see that,” she grinned, and then cursed herself again when her eyes flickered over the woman’s body before she could stop them.
She straightened, then stepped a little closer to the dogs and stroked her hand over Lizzie and then Ollie’s sides.
“Okay guys? This is Vi. She’s going to take you for walkies sometimes while Mummy’s at work. Is that good? Is that good idea?”
Fussing him, goofy and dumb, and she felt embarrassed because the dog walker was watching her do it, so she dropped the stupid puppy voice and swallowed.
She pointed at each of the dogs in turn.
“This is Elizabeth. This is Oliver. And the smaller one is Tess. But I call them Lizzie and Ollie, most of the time.”
The dog walker smiled. That attractive, almost antagonistic half smile that made Caitlyn’s eyes lock on her lips.
“Okay. Okay, I’ve got that.”
She pulled her gaze away and swallowed again, before stepping through to the kitchen.
“I have your forms,” she said. “And your key. Here, it’s…”
But not picking it up. Because then she’d have to hand it to her, and clearly the woman had an issue with touch.
So she moved away, intentionally, and hoped the woman would step into the room and take the things without prompting.
She did.
She started to.
And then…
“Er, look, Miss Kiramman. I’m… I’m sorry, I’m not sure that…”
Caitlyn’s stomach plummeted.
Shit. Shit, they were too much. They were too much for her.
The day before the new job, and this woman was going to pull out and it’d be back to square one.
“Vi, Ms…”
“No, look, it’s not the dogs. They’re… They’re great. Really. It’s, uh…”
But she just blinked at the floor, arms crossed over her body and teeth at her bottom lip.
“Please,” Caitlyn said, the pathetic sound escaping her without warning.
The stranger said nothing.
Fuck it. She was desperate.
“Please. I’m sorry, I know they’re excitable. But they really are very good dogs. I mean it. I promise. They won’t be any trouble. They’re so well-behaved, when they’re out. And if you don’t feel comfortable, then what if… I’ll pay you the same, just for the home visits. Double even. Triple. You don’t even have to take them out, if they seem like too much now you’ve met them. I don’t need you to. I don’t… I can do it. I just need… There’s no one else. I start my new job tomorrow and there’s no one else and I…”
Stupid. Fucking stupid, her voice catching in her throat as she felt tearful and strained.
She looked away, but not before she saw the woman look up, her body unfolding a little.
“I’m sorry. Please. They won’t be this much of a handful for you all the time. Not when they get to know you.”
“No. No, it’s not…”
She heard it. The great sigh that escaped the dog walker. The resignation, the weight in it as it did.
“Sure thing,” she said, very quietly. “Your boy is bigger than I expected and I’ll have to make a couple of adjustments in my van. It might take a couple of days. So they’ll be cramped, this first week, until I do. Or I’ll just get a new one. But, it’s fine, sure, I’ll-"
“I’ll get you one. A new van. If you need it for them. Whatever you need, I’ll get it for you.”
An awkward moment.
Then the woman laughed.
A strong laugh. A hearty laugh. Like it was a joke. Like she thought Caitlyn had made a really good joke.
It broke the tension.
“No, it’s fine. You don’t… My van’s fine. Thanks.”
But she was smiling, grinning, both sides of her lips and with her eyes, too.
A trembling dance through Caitlyn’s chest.
Oh, god. At least she’d never have to see her again after today.
“Alright. Well, is it… You’ll do it? You’ll take them on?”
The woman’s smile settled a little, and Caitlyn nearly tensed up as her chest swarmed with sparks yet again.
“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do it, er,” she replied.
Then she looked uncomfortable again, and Caitlyn saw her eyes settle on the paperwork and the key.
“I’ll pay you monthly up front. Obviously I transferred the deposit this morning, so I’ll do the amount up to the end of the month before tomorrow, too.”
But the woman didn’t seem to be listening.
She reached for the forms, collecting them up, and hesitating a little, fingers resting over the key without moving.
Caitlyn had attached it to a red carabiner she’d found as she’d been unpacking, in absence of a keyring, and briefly she wondered if this obviously butch lesbian might take it as an insult.
Me, too, she nearly said, which would have been stupid, so she was glad when the stranger snatched it up and slipped it into their pocket.
She folded the forms more carefully, without so much as glancing over them before joining them with the key.
“Right, well,” she started.
“Yes. Yes, okay, well if there’s nothing else, then… thank you.”
The woman seemed to hesitate for a moment, one hand on Lizzie’s head, thumb stroking over the base of her ear.
“They really are great dogs,” she said, almost more to the Doberman than to Caitlyn herself. “Great condition. You must take, er, real good care of ‘em.”
“Oh. Thank you. Yes, they’re amazing. I’d be lost without them.”
The woman swallowed, but didn’t look up.
Voice almost tender when she spoke next.
“I bet they’d be lost without you, too.”
Then Vi looked up, smiling at her.
“They seem real attached to you.”
She nodded her head a little in Caitlyn’s direction, where Ollie sat his full weight on her right foot and Tess kept dancing up onto her hind legs to try to lick her face.
Caitlyn laughed, just soft.
“They are. We’ve… been through a lot, the last couple of years. They’re my whole world.”
The dog walker blinked at her.
“Yeah.”
Then she let out an audible, pantomime sigh and took her hand off the dog, sticking her hands in her pockets.
“Right, well, I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” she said, smiling at each dog in turn and heading back out to the dining room.
“Oh, yes.”
Of course. Done. Agreed. Time for the woman to go, now.
She trailed behind her to the porch, and watched as the woman let herself out.
“Really, thank you,” Caitlyn said, something a little like regret creeping into her stomach as she remembered that she probably wouldn’t see her again.
No reason to, now. Vi would come and go from the house with her own key in the middle of the day while Caitlyn was at work. That’s it. Any problems could be messages. Probably not even a phone call.
A ridiculous, sudden urge to hear that lovely voice again.
“Yeah. Good, er, good luck at your job,” the woman said, not looking back.
“Thank you. Any problems, just call, though, I can…”
“Yeah. Okay. Bye.”
Then she walked off, not looking back, and Caitlyn hated herself when her eyes dropped down to take in the shape of her as she walked away.
God.
She spared a thought for Mrs Vi the Dog Walker, because there was no way a woman like that wasn’t seeing someone walking around looking like that, and then closed the door.
She didn’t know quite why she did what she did next.
Caitlyn charged up the stairs, rushing to her office window and staring out of it.
There. Just there. Getting into that van across the street.
Expression indeterminable. Body taut and strong even just opening the door and climbing into the driver’s seat.
Moving in her skin like she’d never had to figure out how to grow into it but had just always known exactly who she was.
Caitlyn went back downstairs, and laughed when she saw the dogs doing the same thing, sitting at the windowsill in the living room looking out after their new friend.
She laughed, and went up to them, running her hands over Lizzie’s neck and leaning down to kiss Tess’s head.
“You like her, huh? That’s good. That’s very good.”
Puppy voice again, and she didn’t mind this time.
No one else could hear it anyway.