I...Think So?

The guy ran right past the woman, skidding to a halt on the city sidewalk as she called out to him.   

“What are you running from?” She snickered as he swung around and walked right up to her.       

“Uh,” he smiled, rubbing at the back of his neck, “I was going back home to help my neighbor’s daughter with her cupcake decorations.” He chuckled embarrassedly, and half-smiled at her.  

She threw her palms up and shrugged. “I thought…” Hazel eyes shot down at his right hand.   

“Oh!” He fumbled in a huge, stitched almost perfectly pocket. “I forgot—” But as soon as his marshmallow colored hand was clutching the little black velvet box, she had stopped him, a hand wrapped around his. His eyes slid up as he bent down on one knee. “What?”              

She half-folded her arms, pursed her lips and looked irritably away. And waited. “The proposal?” She suggested.

But the guy shot up and rambled that he was late to the neighbor’s daughter’s friend’s birthday party. She and he had to make the cupcakes because everyone was bringing the dessert instead of the normal birthday cake. But when the woman blinked several times and drew her mouth in a tight smile while staring disinterestedly back, the guy exhaled and held up his palms.

“I’ll go.” Stuffing the box back into his pocket, the guy dashed off in his original direction, hurtling over crates of grapes, cucumbers and other assumedly fresh fruit—causing the fruit stand owner to shake his meaty fist in rage after he yelled after him to quit causing dirt to drop into his crates and, more importantly, on “my fresh, clean, recently bought fruit!”   

The woman looked at the grumbling fruit stand owner shaking his head disgustedly, and decided to walk over there. After weaving through lines of colorfully clothed people hurrying this way and walking casually that way, the woman told the owner she’ll make up for her friend’s carelessness by washing both fruit and their crate homes.      

The aproned man just murmured, “Sure. Do so.” The woman instantly picked up a crate, carried it inside the restaurant right ahead of her and behind the fruit stand and dropped on the burgundy tiled bathroom floor. Washing the fruit, the woman asked a server for clean bags and then replaced each washed fruit with these clean ones, discarding the originals. Once she had brushed all the dirt off the crate’s rim and sides, she carried the fruit back to Mr. Fruit Stand and repeated the process until he shooed her away.    

“Fine!” The woman shot up a marshmallow-colored hand and went on her way.

A few hours later that evening, the woman got a call from the guy. He went on and on and on and on about how he was in fact late, how that mean preteen fumed about his tardiness and that only a few cupcakes made it to the birthday party—no, wait, all of them somehow—but how Reagan wouldn’t even get out of the car without a sincere apology. The woman wore a strained smile throughout the whole speech. Then just hung up.         

He’s too detail-oriented. She replaced the smile with a casual frown and sighed down at her white and light cinnamon-colored Cairn Terrier, Arts N’ Crafts. The woman went over and sat crisscross on her black and blue checkered cotton dog bed, reaching for her. But the animal actually did her a favor by hopping into her everyday lap posture and snuggling, her tiny white paws parallel to each other as they rested contentedly on the bed, her elbows on her dark blue spandex legs.     

“Arts, what are we going to do?” The woman sighed, and ran a hand along the dog’s wiry, soft body. Then she decided to get up and make herself something to eat for dinner. Flickered on the kitchen light right under the Beadboard cabinets but heard her iPhone’s loud beeping noise of a ringtone again.      

“Go away.” She demanded, and Arts N’ Crafts started barking at a high-pitched, earsplittingly annoying level. The woman quickly scooped her into her arms, the noise stopping immediately and went over to the evergreen windowed door. Creating a slit opening, the woman eyed her brick front stoop.

“Hello?”             

A minute went by, and the woman reeled back and almost dropped Arts N’ Crafts when the guy jumped out right in front of her. He brushed some holly leaves off his neon orange T-shirt and then yanked his hand away. Sucking on one of the fingers while telling her why he had bothered to surprise her, the guy dropped his bloodied index finger as she managed to shove the door open more and put a squirming Arts N’ Crafts down onto the hardwood foyer floor. “What are you doing here, Brandon?”

“I just wanted to stop by and,” the guy paused long enough to turn and watch Arts N’ Crafts trot by and gallop down the stairs. “present you with this.”

So it was his little friend, the black box.  

“Yeah—” The woman flicked her sandy brown hair at him as she spun around and shut the door, calling for Arts N’ Crafts. The guy jerked away as a flash of white raced towards him and disappeared inside the house just as the blueberry and dove wreathed door swung closed.     

“I just want to propose to you, Hannah!” The guy called semi-desperately through the door. Knocks, though, only heightened the woman’s disinterest in him. Soon, the guy and his black box disappeared altogether, never to show up in the woman’s life again. The next year, she decided to leave her current place here in Milwaukee, Wisconsin and look at smaller, cozier homes in the comfy countryside of Knoxville, Tennessee.

Once she had settled into her semi-comfortable home three miles from the nearest farm and six point four miles away from Walmart, the woman surveyed the new residence, hands clasped behind her back and a bright, cheery smile lighting up her face. Plopping onto the black and white peppered sofa in front of the big widescreen TV, the woman patted her armchair, inviting Arts N’ Crafts to come snuggle with her. She did, but the woman had an uneasy feeling about just cozying up with her dog and a black screen. “I think…” She reached for her phone sitting on a round granite table next to the armrest. No messages from the guy. She shrugged, but she also had a feeling he didn’t forget about her. So she let Arts N’ Crafts sniff the couch. Snuck up to the front door. Just grabbed the handle and whipped the door open.     

“Brandon?” Darting her hazel eyes everywhere, the woman froze and then picked up the mat.

Arts N’ Crafts barked.  

“Yeah,” the woman dropped it but still looked around until she remembered she was in the middle of nowhere. She retreated inside and kicked the door closed. “It was weird.” But Arts N’ Crafts started whining and crying.  

“What’s wrong, girl?” She picked her up, but the dog squirmed and cried in her arms. Releasing the panicked animal, the woman furrowed her eyebrows and asked herself, “What is going on?”          

When Arts N’ Crafts confirmed her suspicions by urinating on the pale, flowered carpet, the woman instantly grabbed her and chucked her carefully outside. After scolding her, she left her pet to sniff her way through the vast lawn in front of the one-lane highway of a street and jogged inside to the washer room to get a bucket of soap and water, brush and spray bottle of Pet Cleaner. Stomping back while complaining about how Arts N’ Crafts knew better than to go to the bathroom on such a pretty, expensive rug, she dropped to her knees and scrubbed as hard as she could to clear the huge cotton mat of the malodorous stuff. Once she had put some elbow grease into it and stared angrily at the disgustingly noticeable bright white spot, the woman threw everything into the water-filled bucket and lugged it back to the washer room. She slipped on her everyday sandals and went to see how Arts N’ Crafts was doing, stepping over the rug to avoid the drying area. She opened the door and called for Arts N’ Crafts, but the Cairn Terrier did not come.  

“Arts N’ Crafts! I know you can hear me—” But the woman stopped cold when she saw the dog lying on her side far from the house near some lined pine trees, motionless. All the woman’s thoughts about what could have happened flew out of her mind as she bounded over to her, striving to stay calm. She crouched down, seeing whether Arts N’ Crafts’ stomach, rib cage or head sported any bloody or bruised injuries. Then the woman checked for any broken legs or paws. As a former veterinarian from Paws & Hands Animal Hospital in Milwaukee, the woman knew a broken bone from a fractured or sprained one in animals, especially small dogs. Fortunately, Arts N’ Crafts didn’t display any, but she may have sprained a paw on a stick trying to run away from a deer.   

The woman decided to dial the animal hospital here in Knoxville. As the phone rang and the receptionist picked up, she told her the dog needed to come in to be checked. “Yes, I don’t know what happened exactly. I left her out to go to the bathroom—I should’ve stayed with her. But she never leaves my side, and now I don’t want to touch her in case she’s hurting a lot.” The woman listened to the receptionist as she told Arts N’ Crafts’ owner to stay calm and that her brother was coming to get them. She kept scanning over the dog, her eyes roaming every inch from the cute black nose to the tip of her smallish tail.   

“Okay, I’ll wait. Thank you!” The woman jabbed the red End Call symbol and breathed heavily. She started to shake and blinked back threatening tears. The woman examined her surroundings, seeing nothing but pine trees lined right in front of her and extending horizontally towards a small forest and the road. Then the woman looked left and peered into the place. What crazy animal could have attacked Arts N’ Crafts? Maybe a scared deer kicked at a startled her, or…?     

“I’m in Knoxville, not the Amazon.” For a second, this verbalized truth settled the woman’s frenzied nerves. She kept swallowing hard, breathing heavily, peering for any cuts or scrapes or even slashes, especially where the dog’s belly was going up and down. None were located, but the woman still stayed with Arts N’ Crafts, crouching some more and flattening some grass beneath her as she leaned over on her knees.    

“It’s okay, Arts. It’s okay.” She comforted the small, still dog, her only friend. Well, maybe she had some loose connections with some other vets back in Milwaukee. But they all left for California a while ago and never responded to her texts or voicemails. So, yeah, Arts N’ Crafts was her only friend.

“I just wish we could be with other people.” The woman blinked back the emerging tears and looked back at the stretching road. A car was approaching and slowed down, turning onto her gravel driveway. She watched it stop, and a guy got out and waved to her. She waved a hand—he needed to hurry. Once he whipped open his medical supply bag, he started throwing his stethoscope on and placed the disc-shaped resonator onto the dog’s breathing belly. The mocha lab-coated man leaned over and saw her eyelids twitch and a little jerk in the eyes.

“The dog’s breathing and is moving. She may need to come in just to be safe.” The receptionist’s brother and the woman safely but quickly relocated Arts N’ Crafts to one of the vet’s metal tables, the dog making little jerking movements with her paws. The woman questioned her state, and the man said she’d have to stay here overnight.

“Then I’ll go home, get my other stuff and come back here.” The woman almost retorted, looking at Arts N’ Crafts. “I’m not parting with my best friend.”

“You have to stay home. The dog would get nervous.”  

The woman glowered at him. “I’m not leaving!” She clenched her teeth and continued, but the brother insisted. When the woman spat that he was not her brother so he didn’t have the authority to tell her to go home, he flew a finger at her and barked, “You stay here, and Toto here doesn’t go back to Kansas!”

The woman and the rest of Paws & Hands Animal Hospital, it seemed, stood still. Then she took a shaky breath and swallowed, nodding her sandy brown ponytail. “Okay.” Picking up her burgundy purse she had somehow raced into the house to retrieve, the woman turned and went out the already open door, walking like she was trying to get through maple syrup. Every step felt like an eternity. Every moment felt like it would never end.

When the woman finally pulled into her driveway, she killed the engine and slapped back against her seat. “What have I done?” She cried out, letting the tears finally escape her lower eyelids. “Betrayed Arts N’ Crafts!”

She sat there for a minute, staring blearily at the black leather steering wheel glaring back at her. She decided to free herself of the maple syrup by actually getting out of the car and grabbing her purse from the passenger seat. Shutting this side, the woman walked right into her home and made herself a small bowl of Progresso Soup Traditional Chicken Noodle Soup.

Then her phone rang.

It was him.

“Hi.” She grumbled. “Long time no call.”

“Sorry I was such a bother.” He seemed sad. She asked about his life so far.

“Not good. I’m seeing this woman, and…” He stopped. “Never mind. I don’t want to bore you. Anyway…”

“Hang on.” the woman pulled the phone from her ear and listened. Nothing. Then she continued. “Sorry. I thought I heard something.”  

“You did.”

“Huh?”

“Just—”

The woman punched End Call and walked around the wall segregating the living room and the kitchen. She rubbed at her tear-stained face when she looked outside her door. There was the guy, but under his awkward smile and the stupidly ugly black ring box was…  

“Arts N’ Crafts?” The woman slammed the handle down and threw the door open. “Oh my goodness! You…” Her eyebrows came together. “How’d you know?”

“I got a call from the receptionist’s brother. Turns out he knows me from college. We go way back to freshman year.” He shrugged and gave the dog to her owner, then swiped the box from her back. Looking at her as the woman giggled giddily from Arts N’ Crafts’ licks and nuzzles, he said something terrified Arts N’ Crafts, causing her to tense up and go into shock.     

“From what?” The woman gasped. When the guy said neither the receptionist’s brother nor he knew until their research revealed a black beetle had crossed the dog’s path, he bent down on one knee and slowly revealed the ring. “Will you…marry me?”   

The woman stared at the beautiful flower-embossed silver ring, and then absentmindedly let Arts N’ Crafts down. She clasped her hands and nodded her head hard. “Yes! Yes, I will.” The guy, smiling from ear to ear, jumped up, and the two embraced in a tight hug. He let her know he had been staying in a hotel, thinking of ways to propose to her without it being stupid or cliché or anything normal. While he non-rambled about this, she snatched the ring and slipped it through her right ring finger.

“Brandon, that’s something I’ve always wanted. A weird guy telling me—”

His brown eyes darkened. “Then why’d you shut me away?”

The woman blanched and told him she was waiting for him to propose appropriately, but the guy shrugged quickly. “Well, I guess things happen.” When he said he’d like to have their honeymoon here in Knoxville, the woman laughed and said that was because she moved here.

He looked her in the eyes. “That’s because I always wanted to go where you were going.”

As the two sat at the kitchen table over little mountains of Rocky Road ice cream, she told him she decided to stay here in this cozy little farmland. Away from all the hustle and bustle of Milwaukee.

That’s where I want to be.” He rose, and she joined him on the couch, him putting a black leather arm around her plaid cotton shoulders and pulling her close. “That’s where this Hannah needs to be with her Brandon.”

The woman nodded and smiled, shifting to sit comfortably next to him. When the woman stated she didn’t really care whether he stayed here or went, he said he’d be anywhere cozy.

“Okay.” She gave in. “Let’s.”   

Later that night, he threw a fist into the darkening air as he grinned and retreated to his car, stepping down the brick front porch stairs and opening a Chevrolet door. Pulling out towards the one-lane street, the guy lowered the passenger window and called, “Besides, you look better as a wife with a dog, not just a wife!”

The woman blinked and squinted. “Huh?”        

“Never mind!” The guy closed it and drove off, honking twice and then disappearing onto the next street. The last she saw of him, for now, was a blinking taillight as a car passed and he continued on towards—she read his text before dumping his unfinished mountain of ice cream—planning his part of their future together.