The Expansion of the Universe

Interlude

Her therapy dog's name was Milo. Or, at least, that's what she'd been told the previous day. He had been matched to her through a series of surveys and online video calls, which had been painful (Strangers!) but necessary. Whitney had maintained her insistence that Liza would benefit from a service animal, and had encouraged Liza to continue through the interview process when she grew wary and fearful.

Now, hovering on the front porch with sweat palms and a racing heart, she watched as a woman (no doubt Whitney had specifically requested that only women be involved, knowing Liza's issues with men) climbed out of a large van at the base of her driveway. The woman moved to the back of the vehicle and opened the trunk, grabbing a leash, stepping out, and—

"Oh," Liza murmured in awe.

Milo was handsome.

He was made of long, silky fur, painted in brown and white, with a narrow snout and a fluffy tail that was wagging slowly.

The woman and Milo headed towards her, and she forced herself not to panic. The woman was not there to hurt her. She was there to bring Liza a dog. She was not there to harm her. She would not be coming inside Liza's condo—Liza's world. Whitney had assured Liza that the company was used to adapting to meet the needs of their clients, and they would make sure to deliver Milo with limited in-person contact.

The woman stopped at the base of the front porch, which was still far too close for Liza's comfort.

"Hello," her voice was gentle and kind, the wrinkles around her eyes speaking of many smiles and much laughter. "I'm Grace." Tilting her head down, she gestured with her chin to the dog who was sitting patiently beside her. "This is Milo."

Liza nodded stiltedly, but it took several tries before she was able to get her dry mouth to move in response. "I-I'm . . . I'm Liza."

"Hello, Liza. I know this is difficult for you, but I so appreciate that you came out to meet us." Grace said. "We usually go over commands and some training during these first meetings, but I've been informed of your case. We'll go over some basics now, but you've completed all of the online training, so I'll just check in shortly online, as previously discussed, to make sure everything is going well."

Liza could barely hear the woman over the sound of her own heart pumping a frantic rhythm in her ears.

She was outside, in the open, on her porch, where anything—anything!—could harm her.

She needed to go back inside.

Her eyes swung past the woman, whose mouth was moving as though she was still speaking—what was she saying? Hopefully, nothing important—before Grace frowned.

Liza frowned, too. What was wrong? Had Grace seen something that Liza had missed?!

Liza jolted with a screech when something touched her hand—something cold and wet. Her eyes swung down, and she blinked in shock when she found a pair of wide, dark, soulful eyes staring up at her.

Milo, she reminded herself. His name was Milo. Milo, with pretty brown eyes that a were nothing like those sharp blue eyes belonging to Mitchell Pierce.

Milo nudged at her hands again, persistent, and she realized that she had been scratching at her skin without realizing it. Milo nudged her again, and she moved her fingers, until they were clutching onto his thick fur.

She felt her shoulders relax somewhat. He wasn't an immediate fix, this beautiful dog, but he was . . . well, he was able to ground her. He gave her something to focus on besides her fear and her failures.

Perhaps he truly would be helpful.