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“ M s. Davis? You can come on back now.” With my heart in my throat, and tears welling in my eyes, I went back to an exam room and waited for the doctor to come see me. This was definitely not how I had envisioned spending the last day of the year. Thankfully, the waiting room had been fairly empty, so it didn’t take long for the door to the room to open, revealing a man in scrubs.

“Brynn Davis? Hi, I’m Dr. Neeman. I wish I could say it’s nice to meet you, but we both know this is not where you wanted to be.”

I smiled slightly and nodded, shaking the doctor’s outstretched hand. “How is he?” I asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

“The good news is that you caught things in time. The better news is that Lug Nut will be fine. We do want to keep him overnight for observation, though.”

My shoulders dropped down from my ears and it was in that moment I realized I had been tensed, bracing myself for the worst possible news.

Kevin had gifted me a beautiful flower arrangement for the holidays. I had seen lilies in the selection of flowers and thought they were safe up on the dining room table. The blooms were gorgeous, but apparently, they were too gorgeous to resist. Lug Nut had decided the plant was good enough to eat and had managed to nudge a chair back far enough for him to hop up and get close enough to start chewing on them. I was in the laundry room moving clothes into the dryer and starting another load, oblivious to my dog chomping on a toxic plant.

I came out in time to see Lug Nut with the yellow pollen around his mouth and half of a flower missing.

I’d gone into panic mode, then, knowing I needed to find an emergency vet that was close and open on a damn holiday. By the time I got one on the phone, then got the dog in the car, he was whining. When I pulled into the clinic’s parking lot, he had started to seize.

I listened to Dr. Neeman explain what they had done for my sweet boy. A fresh round of tears started as I thought about how scared he must have been.

“Thank you for your help, Doctor. As you said, I would rather be somewhere else, but I am very thankful you were open.” Kind eyes crinkled upward in the corners as he smiled.

“Holidays are the busiest time for pet emergencies. You should see us on July fourth.”

After hearing him detail what the plans were for the overnight stay, I felt very hopeful there would be no lasting effects from the dog’s snack. I then had a decision to make about the flowers. I would place them on top of the fridge and if Lug Nut showed any further interest in them, I would just toss the whole arrangement.

“You are welcome to go back and see Lug Nut. He will be groggy, but I know he will be glad to see Mom.”

Nodding, I followed the doctor back into the room with various sized kennels. There were a couple of animals back there, but it was strangely quiet. I spotted my boy stretched out in his cage in a corner by himself.

As I approached the kennel, I saw an ear twitch, then soulful brown eyes pop open. The slow thumpthumpthump of his tail was slower than his usual efforts, but I smiled nonetheless.

“Hi, my love,” I crooned, releasing the lock on the door and sticking my hand in to pet him. The dog attempted to get up, but I shook my head.

“No, baby. You need to stay down. I’m here. I can pet you just like this. You scared me you big goof. It was not a nice thing to do to chew on a bad plant.”

Leaning down, I kissed his head, whispering how much I loved him. I loved on him for several minutes, repeating again and again that I would be back in the morning to take him home. I could tell whatever meds they had Lug Nut on were making him very drowsy. Now would be a good time for me to slip out.

His snores were soft when I locked the kennel again and took a step back. This treatment and overnight stay were costing me an arm and a leg, but he was worth every penny. Not only was he a tie to my sister, but he had turned out to be my soul dog. I would do whatever it took to make sure he was well and healthy.

After completing some paperwork and arranging a pick up time for the next day, which was, ironically, New Year’s Day, I made my way back to my car, leaving a piece of my heart in the clinic. I had quizzed the doctor repeatedly about whether or not there was a risk of my dog taking a bad turn. While he couldn’t give me a zero percentage, because anything could happen, he did assure me that my quick actions had given Lug Nut the highest chance of having an uneventful night.

“There wasn’t much time for the toxins to get in his system. You did everything right,” he assured me.

I went home, a sob escaping me at the empty house. Spying the offending flowers still on the kitchen table, I went to them, plucking out the lilies and throwing those away in the outside trash can. Once the lilies were gone, I moved the arrangement to the top of the fridge, but not before checking every other flower in the vase to check for toxicity. By all appearances, what was left might cause him to barf, but that would be the extent if he managed to hoist himself to the top of the refrigerator.

My father had texted right at midnight, so I responded, filling him in on the evening. After we texted a few moments, I felt myself beginning to come down from the adrenaline rush. I wanted another hot bath and then it would be straight to bed for me.

I had no sooner started the bath water when my phone buzzed again. It was the veterinarian, Dr. Neeman, with words of reassurance about Lug Nut. I was struck by how kind of a gesture that was. He could see how much my dog meant to me and even though I had left the clinic less than an hour before, he let me know that he had taken another round of vitals and all looked good. He also said the dog showed some interest in food, so they allowed him to have some bland chicken and he was tolerating that well. The doctor then assured me that staff would be checking on him throughout the night and would provide another update if I desired. I definitely desired that and confirmed that I would appreciate any additional updates, no matter the time.

Feeling relieved and a bit hopeful, I sunk down into the tub until the water was under my chin. I couldn’t stay in here too long because I was tired enough to just fall asleep right there.

“The new year had better start better than this one ended,” I grumbled.

My mind began to wander then, going back over the last few months. Things had looked so hopeful. I had a very challenging and rewarding career, I cared for Adrian and knew… I knew… he had begun to care for me, too.

“And that was the crux of the matter,” I whispered. “He didn’t want to care. He didn’t want to feel. He was looking for something, anything, to focus on and divert his attention.”

I still had no idea when he was coming back from Japan, or even if he was coming back. We needed to have a conversation about Blair because I didn’t understand why he was so upset that night he had stopped by for dinner. If anything was a clear example of Adrian looking for something to focus on instead of his feelings, that was certainly it.

I stayed in the tub until the water was cool and my eyelids were heavy. A quick glance at my phone showed me just how late it was. “Or early, depending on how you viewed time,” I told myself.

My arms felt like lead and I struggled to put on the oversized T-shirt I wore to sleep in. One final trip to the kitchen for a glass of water and some ibuprofen to ward off the headache that was starting and I could finally fall face first into my pillows.

My dreams were vivid and disturbing, with visions of Lug Nut falling through holes or off cliffs, his yelps of fear and pain terrifyingly real. More than once, I snapped awake with a racing heart, my pulse rate through the ceiling while I struggled to understand what was real and what was my mind torturing me.

Another message from the vet clinic came through, easing my worry somewhat. The doctor said the crucial hours had passed and the dog seemed to be perking up.

I thanked him again for his kindness and did my best to try and catch a bit more sleep before dawn, but the house was too quiet. I hadn’t realized how much I had come to use Lug Nut’s soft snoring as white noise. Without it, every snap, crackle, and pop of the house settling seemed loud and obnoxious.

Laying there, I willed myself to ignore the lingering sounds of people celebrating the new year. Fireworks, very illegal in city limits, could be heard in the distance anyway, along with muffled music from the club several streets over.

“God, this place is so noisy. Go to bed,” I groused, slamming a pillow over my head.