How She Came Home

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Another week passed by - the third without Freen - and every morning, she'd walked and gotten a small cup of coffee at a shoebox of a coffee shop, enjoying it for Freen's sake as the days grew warm and muggy and watched the sunrise over the harbour from the bridge. 

The salty air blown in from the mouth of the ocean was fresh and balmy and Becca would linger for awhile before walking home and getting ready for work.

She left the office early the next Thursday, the streets saturated with yellow patches of sunshine as she sat behind the wheel with the windows down, letting in the sounds of traffic and shouts and laughter. 

National City was teeming with life, with the last boiling days of summer before it turned towards autumn, and Becca basked in the feeling as she idled in traffic.

Arriving home at her house just before lunch, Becca unlocked the door and let herself into the cool interior of the house and paused. 

The loneliness hit her again at the stifling sound of silence inside. 

Hovering in the foyer, she swallowed thickly and slowly set her bag down on the console before rifling through it for her phone.

"When's your next client?"

"I'm about to take lunch," Nam replied, following Becca's lead and skipping the niceties. "My next one's scheduled for two o'clock, why?"

"I need your help."

"Sure. With what?"

With a quiet huff of laughter, Becca smiled wryly. "I'm going to get a dog."

"Meet me at Seventh and Vermont."

Becca hung up and bundled back outside, slipping her sunglasses down over her eyes against the harsh sunlight, and climbed back into her car. 

The birds twittered in the branches of the Crape Myrtles as she turned left at the end of her street, fuchsia petals dusting her windscreen as she fiddled with the radio and lazily drove through the midday traffic. 

She rolled the sleeves of her silk blouse up and thought of lunch and of calling Freen the next morning - preferably with a dog to show off.

Becca faltered for a moment at the thought of what Freen would say about a dog, considering they'd be living together when she was back, but it was a while away yet, and Becca couldn't stand the loneliness of those long months in between. 

It hadn't even been one month yet, and it was already unbearable as it closed in on her every time she stepped through the front door alone.

She parked in an open space along a quiet street, accounting firms and banks and small, private offices greeting her as she stepped out of the car. Nam lingered in the shade of a narrow office front and Becca read her name on one of the plaques set on the door, listing the therapists who worked there.

They walked to a little Salvadoran restaurant first for lunch, ordering caIriniento, pupusa and tamales at a small vinyl table as the AC unit shuddered overhead; the heat was like an adhesive that even the fan couldn't shift as sunlight slanted in through the wide windows, yellow-tinted from the laminated posters advertising the menu. They split a tres leches cake before Becca left a few folded bills beneath the napkin stand and they left.

Nam led them to a nearby rescue centre, the sound of yapping dogs reaching their ears before they'd even opened the door. 

It was mercifully cooler inside, the smell of wet dog and kibble mingling with the stale air-conditioned smell of bleach and Becca felt her stomach knot as they were led down a hallway and into a room full of cages.