Bleu When He’s Gone

It was pretty much love at first sight when she saw him or, at least, all she knew was that she was instantly drawn to him more than any other boyfriend she had ever had. He was French with soft gooey brown eyes that made her head tilt every time she saw him. He barely spoke at all but was a true sweetheart and she could feel the connection. Despite his shyness, he was friendly, and their birthday was on the same day. To her it was fate. So, perhaps it was spur of the moment, but she brought him back to her apartment. Of course, he couldn’t say no. No, actually didn't seem to be in his vocabulary. He was always eager and more than willing to comply with all of her wishes. A true dream come true.

“Welcome, to my humble abode!” she said, plopping her keys in a bowl by the door. 

He turned, looked, and investigated her apartment, taking in every detail. He didn’t say anything but seemed pleased with the apartment. However, she was not concerned about his lack of conversation. She didn't need someone to talk with, just someone she could talk to and who could listen. 

“Let me get you something to eat! You must be famished.” She called him from the kitchen.  

They ate a humble meal together and once she threw the dishes in the sink she plopped on the couch.

“Ya wanna watch a movie? How’s The Princess Bride, huh?” 

He, as ever, complied with her wishes and was eager to jump onto the couch. For the first thirty minutes, he sat close to her, with her hand on his head gently stroking him. Yet, soon afterward, he seemed to become restless and attacked her with a few wet kisses that made her giggle. 

They shared a bed that night, though she warned him not to think he’d always be so lucky. However, he ignored the comment, cuddled into her, and nuzzled her neck. She fell asleep listening to him breathe. Then, just like that, it seemed their relationship was cemented. 

It was not long after that they had created a routine. Every morning, before she went to work, they would jog together. Then go for an evening stroll after dinner. Often times they sat and watched the beginning of movies but rarely finished them, with his desire for attention and sharing wet kisses. Then on the weekends, they would go to Starbucks on Saturday morning, he mostly there for anything with whip cream, but so she could sit and read while indulging in a pastry of some kind. After sitting patiently while she read, they’d go for a run. Thus, giving a slight but appreciated change to their morning routine. 

It was three days after they met that they faced timed her parents, her sister, and then two brothers. Her friends all told her to be careful and her sister had informed her of all the behind the scenes gossip that was being said of her new beau. Her father warned against the sudden change it brought saying she should be focused on her career not messing around and that she was wasting a fortune on playing with him when she could be saving. And while it was true, she had spent a lot of money on him, she was sure it was not for naught and that she knew the difference he was making in her life already. 

Then he ran away. 

It was a Saturday, they were at Starbucks sitting on the patio. She was reading and he was enjoying an extra dose of the whip cream. She picked up her coffee to sip it but spilled it down the front of her shirt. 

“Shoot! I’m such a clutz,” she said reprimanding herself, “I can never keep anything clean for two seconds.” 

When she turned to him smiling, he wasn’t there. She turned around. Stood up. Screamed his name. Ran around in a panic. 

“Did you see him?! Did you see where he went?!” But everyone was involved in their own book or conversation and saw nothing, looking at her with raised eyebrows.

It was 11:29pm when she dropped the keys in her bowl by the door. Exhausted by her search and in shock from his sudden departure, she skipped plopping on the couch and fell into her bed. Despite her exhaustion, she did not sleep. She wrapped her comforter around herself, still lingering with his scent, and shook, gasping for breath as tears fell off her cheeks and nose. She rocked back and forth in a rhythm of sorrow and her head began to throb from sobbing. She fell asleep to her own ragged breathing.

She stopped running. She stayed home all week the first week after he left. It wasn’t until her sister came over the following Saturday that she finally took off her shirt with the coffee spill down the front. She gained twenty-five pounds in three weeks. Her boss had called her into his office at work to make sure everything was alright. Her father reprimanded her on her attitude that she shouldn't be so heartbroken proclaiming that it was only in his nature. When her friends and sister’s plea to move on failed they encouraged her to move on elsewhere but she couldn't take that risk again. 

“You weren't ready for it.” Most people told her, though she wasn’t sure why or how that was supposed to help. 

It was only two months later that she actually tried to pick herself up again and went for a jog. It did her good but she often turned to look at her side towards her missing companion. She started back at her routine of reading at Starbucks on Saturday morning but she read fewer words, looking up every few lines to see if he’d come. She even tried some new things, like taking pottery with her sister, but the world still felt flat. 

She mourned her way up her apartment steps carrying three too many grocery bags than she should be carrying when her affectionate older neighbor, Mrs. Welter, greeted her. 

“Hello dearie!!!” she said with much enthusiasm. 

“Hello, Mrs. Welter.” 

“I’m so glad I caught you, I was just about to leave to go to the pet store!” Mrs. Welter laughed at her own joke that only she got. 

The grocery bags were stopping the circulation in her fingers and she was trying to open the door but was struggling to balance the key and her bags all at once. 

“One moment dearie, I have something of yours.” Mrs. Welter said shuffling back into her apartment and coming out with-

“Bleu!!!” She called to a rejoicing double bark and Bleu came running down the hall into her arms and lap as she half crouched half fell to meet him and consequently dropping the bag with eggs. 

It was love at first sight all over again as Bleu wagged his tail frantically applying any surface of skin with wet kisses. And when she looked at the sleek Frenchie, her head tilted, eyes watered, as she took in those soft gooey brown eyes. For the first time, she barely spoke as Bleu barked his story. 

“A young woman tried to drop him while you were out so I offered to return him on her behalf.” Mrs. Welter provided, beaming at their reunion. 

“Thank you so so so much, Mrs. Welter,” which made her chuckle.

“No problem, dearie. Enjoy!!!” Mrs. Welter called out as she returned to her apartment. 

When they entered her apartment again she put her groceries down immediately and fell onto her carpet playing with Bleu. She sat cross-legged as he lapped at the tears that fell down her cheeks and nose, crying with the pure pleasure that came at their reunion. The world shifted back into place and she saw color.

That night she faced timed her parents, sister, and brothers, everyone celebrating their reunion and her dad proclaiming that it was evident he’d return, loyalty is in their nature. She enjoyed a rather large omelet for dinner while Bleu ate his own food. They finished The Princess Bride, Bleu’s head in her lap as she gently stroked his head. However, she did not let him sleep in her bed that night but rather insisted he sleep on his own. It is time to lay down the law, she thought, so he’ll never run away again. 

The following week, life seemed to return to normal. They always went for their morning jog and evening stroll. They still cuddled on the couch while watching romantic comedies and Bleu was always eager to share wet kisses. 

On the following Saturday, when she was feeding Bleu a Puppachino, she smiled at him. 

“It is amazing how much you change my life,” she said to him.

“I know exactly what you mean,” a man said across the patio, shades covering his eyes and in the shadow of an umbrella. “I was diagnosed with moderate depression and nothing seemed to bring me to life. No social activity, no exercise, no book” he said, lifting his own “could bring any sort of light or color to my world, it seemed. But then I got my cat, Lucy. I swear, she made all the difference in the world. Well, that and therapy.” The man said smiling.

She laughed a loud, sudden, long chuckle. Her world shifted a little. It had been a long time since she had laughed. 

The man stood up out from under the umbrella, pushing his shades to top of his head which pushed his shoulder-length hair out of his face and revealed his soft gooey brown eyes. He walked over to Bleu.

“May I?” The man inquired.

“Absolutely!” She said waving her hands. 

The stranger pulled up the sleeves of his button-down sweater so he could provide a plentiful of butt scratches that Bleu gladly accepted. She tilted her head and giggled at the pair of them. The man looked up at her from crouching, smiling when he held out his hand. 

“The name’s Umair. And you are?” 

“Ashley.” She said taking his hand and returning the smile.