Page 8 of Yorkie to My Heart (Friends of Gaynor Beach Animal Rescue #6)

Jeremy

I loved my sister.

I loved my nibblets.

I loved my neighbor’s dog.

I even loved chaos.

Which was a damned good thing because as Wally played with Raphael and Thaddeus, general insanity ensued.

I’d assumed Wally would be placid. Would just want to sleep on his bed. I’d even fashioned stairs for him so he could mount them and sleep on the couch.

Raphael and Thaddeus had strict instructions to leave the dog alone. Give the little guy time to settle.

Wow, had I ever been wrong on every account.

When Marcie and her crew arrived, Wally had barked excitedly and turned little circles in obvious delight.

When we moved en masse to the solarium at the back of my house, Wally was the first to pounce on the toys I’d placed around for the kids.

As if to say I know you’re here to play — so let’s play!

And they had.

Even Raphael, who tended to be shy around the unfamiliar, broke out of their shell and got down on the ground to…

accept doggie kisses? Give doggie hugs? My nibblet was all about tactile sensory experiences—once they settled into their space.

Today they’d only removed their sandals and shorts. Their underwear was still in place.

“A win.” Marcie clinked her glass of iced tea with mine as we sat in wicker chairs and watched the general merriment..

I knew what she meant. Raphael was free spirited.

I called them my nibblet because I didn’t want to misgender them.

Most kids weren’t strident about their gender at five.

At least from what I’d seen. Raphael was.

They were nonbinary in a way I could only begin to understand.

Sometimes they wanted frilly dresses. Sometimes the choice was dungarees.

Most of the time they chose a long T-shirt and underwear—when they were required to wear clothes.

Any fabric could set off their sensory overload.

Marcie let Raphael run around naked in the house with the understanding they had to wear clothes when they left the house or when guests came over.

That edict had garnered many, many, many meltdowns. Still, my nibblet had so far survived a special-needs preschool and was now in full-day kindergarten.

Linda, the owner, had been respectful of Raphael and only ever used their full name.

The owner had instructed her staff that kids were no longer to be separated by genders or praised as good boys and girls .

Everyone had a name, and the teachers were going to use them, along with collectives like “kids” or “peeps” or “friends”.

Some parents applauded. Some parents misgendered Raphael intentionally.

Okay, one bitch, who’d been told off by two other parents.

Marcie hadn’t even had the chance to intervene.

Two parents threw a very public shit-fit and pulled their children from the preschool only to find they weren’t welcomed at the other ones in town either.

Seemed people talked. Should the kids suffer because of their parents’ prejudices?

Will they learn those same attitudes and carry them for life?

I just didn’t know. But hurting genderfluid children ranked high on my list of sins.

Kindergarten this year proved a bit harder, but Raphael survived.

Mr. Thorncliffe had a way of respecting Raphael. Understanding them. Giving them space to thrive. He used their gender-neutral pronouns.

Just like I did.

Hence nibblet.

Many people didn’t understand.

And I was happy to enlighten them.

Thaddeus lunged for Wally and tried to wrap him in a hug.

“No!”

Raphael snapping at Thaddeus had Marcie and me shifting to intervene.

Raphael was a gentle soul who rarely spoke loudly. Actually, in new circumstances, they were a child of few words. Unless one got them talking about something they were passionate about.

Thaddeus rocked back, clearly stung by their sibling’s command.

“Gentle.” Raphael held out their hand to an equally stunned Wally.

Wally, bless his little heart, accepted the gesture as the kindness it was intended to be. He allowed Raphael to pet his fur and soon was leaning against my nibblet.

Slowly, three-year-old, normally exuberant Thaddeus approached. He mimicked Raphael’s gentle movements.

The dear dog, had he been a cat, would’ve been purring. Of that I was quite certain.

Marcie grasped my hand.

An unspoken thought passed between us.

She wanted a dog desperately—almost as much as the kids did—but she struggled enough as things stood. Her husband, Darren, worked on the military base and put in long hours so Marcie could stay home with the kids.

Thaddeus’s daycare costs weren’t unreasonable, but still tough to pay for on just one salary. Instead of keeping Thaddeus at home, his parents wanted him to be with other kids. As Raphael had been before.

Marcie was planning to get back into the workforce once Thaddeus was in kindergarten.

Her former work as an event planner often had her working evenings and weekends.

With the kids needing her so much, returning to the work she loved might prove impossible.

What she needed was a good babysitter whom Raphael could trust to take care of their needs.

Marcie had found a few over the past couple years, but none had been the right fit.

Adding a dog to that mix would be more trouble than benefit. Plus, Darren was allergic to fur, so that had to be taken into consideration.

Wally licked Raphael’s cheek.

My nibblet laughed.

Inside my previously tight chest, my heart soared. I hadn’t been certain how today would go. I knew, in my soul, that the kids would love Wally. But even though the shelter owner had told Phillip that Wally loved kids, I just hadn’t been certain the dog would reciprocate.

He had.

In spades.

His joy couldn’t be understated.

Phillip was an enigma—no question about that.

Wally truly appeared to be an open book, as sweet and friendly as Phillip had promised.

I glanced at my watch. “Okay, I think it’s time to walk Wally.”

Wally perked up at that. At my tone or at the word? Perhaps excitement at getting a reprieve? Or maybe he enjoyed walks. I was under the impression—whether accurate or not—that the little guy hadn’t been exercised a lot. He was such a sweetheart.

When the kids had first arrived, Marcie and I had sat on the floor and gently introduced the dog to the kids. Most of my worries evaporated as the mutual love fest had been so obvious.

Wally wasn’t hesitant.

The kids were, for the most part, gentle. I hovered nearby to intercept any inadvertent mishandling.

Raphael was also now protective of Wally and ordering Thaddeus around. Which happened. Other times, the younger one took the lead as only an imperious child who understood they didn’t get all the attention they felt they deserved would.

“Pants, Raphael.” Marcie’s voice carried as Raphael was already headed toward the front door.

They turned back, ran to their clothes, and put them on. Then they hurried over and had the leash in their hands before Marcie and I had even put our drinks on the counter.

Thaddeus, not to be outdone, barreled up to us as well.

“Sandals.” Marcie put her own on.

I wrote a note to Phillip, letting him know were headed to the park.

I’d stick it on the door when we left. I glanced at my watch again.

For a moment I worried, then I remembered he said something about the library after his appointment.

Hopefully he’d go. I had the impression he didn’t get out much, and a bit of socializing would be good for him.

Scott, the head librarian, was a great guy.

And married to Anthony.

Another great guy.

Whom I’d spotted going into Phillip’s house two days ago. Which confirmed my suspicion Phillip wasn’t just an ordinary neighbor. Although that didn’t matter to me, I liked the idea Anthony was watching out for the young man.

I grabbed a piece of tape and joined everyone outside.

Much to the kids’ obvious consternation, Marcie held the leash. “When we’re in the park inside a fence, you can take turns.”

“Aw, Mom…” Thaddeus crossed his arms.

Raphael spread their arms wide in the air and spun around several times. This was their way of coping with change.

“Let’s go.” Marcie herded everyone toward the sidewalk.

I taped the note to the door and locked said door. I wasn’t really worried. And I’d exchanged phone numbers with Phillip this morning, so he could always call or text if something came up or if he was worried.

We walked down Hummingbird Lane toward the park.

Fern Avenue was marginally busier, and I let Marcie organize everyone to cross the street.

All the while, Wally kept gazing at all four of us. Almost as if he couldn’t believe his luck—having four humans at his beck and call. Four of us willing to do whatever he wanted.

“Dog park?” Raphael pointed to the park.

“A park where dogs are allowed,” I corrected gently. “The next park over is a dog park with an enclosed area where the dogs can run free. You understand Wally has to be on his leash at all times out here, right?”

“Duh.” Raphael rolled their eyes.

I smiled. Every word brought me joy, because they sometimes struggled with language. Whether because they couldn’t find the word or didn’t want to talk wasn’t always clear.

“Going to be another hot day.” Marcie eyed me through the sunglasses she’d donned.

“This is SoCal in the summer, hun.” I nudged her with my shoulder.

“I want to walk the dog.” Raphael could easily match their brother’s imperious tone.

Marcie glanced at me, and I said, “Only if your mom holds the end of the leash. Sorry, we don’t know Wally well enough yet for you to walk him solo.”

Raphael stuck out their lower lip, but took hold of the leash between Marcie and Wally, steering the dog along while ignoring their mother and clearly pretending she wasn’t there.

Raphael was an incredibly responsible child.

If left to their own devices, they’d cook every meal.

They adored cooking—especially baking. While naked and wearing an apron.

They weren’t able to interpret the feeling of hunger.

Hence needing to eat at the same time every day.

Cooking was the part of routine they loved the most.

Wally walked placidly beside Raphael, always keeping his eyes on the child and matching their stride. Phillip would be so proud of his dog.

Marcie caught my gaze. “He’s wonderful.”

“Yeah. You haven’t met him, but he’s…I want to say, sweet, you know. But can you say that about a guy in his mid-twenties? He doesn’t seem like the other young guys I’ve met.”

I’d turned down representing two clients who were so steeped in the bro culture that I honestly believed they weren’t going to take my advice—which would’ve been to stop talking before they got into even more trouble. I was a problem solver. A fixer. They were…almost unfixable.

“I meant the dog.” Marcie chuckled. “But now I’m intensely curious about his owner.”

“He’s…really sweet.” I knew I was repeating myself, but I didn’t want to say anything that might reveal what I’d observed.

Overly cautious. Wary. Damaged. I couldn’t quantify those things…

and so they remained unsaid. Too personal to share.

Marcie had always been a good sounding board, though.

If I needed help, she’d offer advice and be discreet.

I helped her with the kids—she returned the favor with suggestions on how to improve my love life.

Joining dating apps was her go-to suggestion.

I was on a couple and hooked up on occasion.

But I wanted to meet a guy the old-fashioned way.

In person. Like while I was jogging and sweaty and he was walking his adorable dog.

That was a meet-cute I wanted. A term I’d learned from Marcie, the incurable romantic.

Even after coping with the hand life had dealt her, she never wavered.

Never stopped believing in the power of love.

“My turn.” Thaddeus stood with his arms crossed against his chest.

“No.” Raphael tugged Wally toward them.

“Why don’t we try training?” I took the leash from Marcie and snagged a piece of kibble from my pocket.

Phillip had given me several pieces so I could continue the training we’d received yesterday from Jordan.

I wasn’t convinced we’d get far with two nibblets leading the way, but I was certainly willing to try.

And Wally, having spotted the kibble and dropped onto his butt, was clearly willing to give it a go as well.