A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall

Chapter XLVIII: Just Can't Get Enough

He was leaving soon. He was already packing.

It wouldn't be for another couple of weeks but his suitcase was already filled with several sets of clothes and spare toiletries. He kept it at the foot of the bed and I'd always avoid looking at it when I came in the room. I managed to go without taking any more sleeping pills for the time being but I kept the bottle in the drawer just in case. Angus never brought it up again. But I could see the worry on his face. 

Sometimes I avoided looking at him too.

Angus made it a point of spending every waking second with me before he left for the tour. A couple of times he'd woken up before me and cooked breakfast. And he'd wait for me to wake up before eating and then he'd eat with me. We'd take the dogs outside for a walk through the park. Cooper would run up to the same tree every day and bark at the birds who were building a nest for the spring. Atlas would watch him but have no energy to join in on the barking. He'd simply wag his tail. Sheryl would wait for us to come back on days where school was out and she'd pet the dogs. Angus told her he was going away again and she pouted.

"You're always gone," she said. 

"I know," he said sadly. "That's part of my job, ya' know? But I'll come back like I always do."

"Promise?"

"Promise," he said. 

Wanda would watch us from her upstairs window in her monogrammed dressing gown and curlers with a cup of tea in her hand. Sometimes we'd see her pacing the room talking on the telephone. Probably calling Diego to let him know Angus was leaving and they had to find me someone else while he was gone. More than a couple of times she had a visitor over, usually some tall, buxom blonde that she wanted to introduce to Angus and Angus eventually figured out her schemes and started laughing. 

Right in front of her latest company no less.

The guest excused herself back inside and Angus apologised while stifling his giggles. Wanda huffed at him and stormed back inside the house, slamming the front door behind her. 

More letters from Bette Catherine mysteriously appeared in our letter box. Rather than return addresses, the corners had been filled with lipstick kisses. 

Our rubbish bin was getting full.

Once before a walk Atlas had taken a bathroom break on her grass again. After dropping off last night's dinner Atlas scurried back to us as Wanda happened to come out of the house in a suit with shoulder pads higher than her head. She saw the evidence and screamed. "Which one of your mongrels did this?" she yelled.

"I did," Angus said giving her a polite grin. "Sorry, ma'am, jus' couldn't help meself. Long night of drinkin' ya' know."

She stormed to her Rolls Royce, rolling down the driver's window and watching us clean it with a plastic bag. It didn't tear this time, much to Angus' delight. Atlas cowered behind my legs while Cooper tugged on his leash, trying to give her car a muddy hug. 

I still think about that sometimes. 

In the evenings we'd have a shower or a bath and then sit down for dinner. The dogs would steal from each other's bowls and burp. Sometimes we'd make love and other times I would stop him short and we would cuddle instead before falling asleep. He never acted that way, but I could have sworn he was always so disappointed when I said no. Why wouldn't he be? Our time together was running out and I rejected him. 

Once we forgot to close the door all the way and the dogs came in. Cooper jumped on the bed next to us and started licking Angus' face. "Good boy," he said scrunching his face up. "This is kind of a two person dance though, an' we get in plenty of licks already."

Atlas simply curled up on their blanket and sighed. Cooper stopped licking Angus but he didn't jump off the bed. He circled twice and plopped down, yawning. Then he lifted his leg and started licking himself.

"Beauty," Angus mumbled. 

Afterwards we cuddled and I buried my face in his neck. I held him as tightly as I could hoping it would keep him from leaving. Or at least postpone it. I traced my fingers over his skin, trying to remember every inch of it. Every inch of him. 

I felt silly. He'd been on so many tours since we met that I should have been used to it by now. But this time felt...different. 

I felt worse. 

We told each other we loved each other a lot more. 

And I did. I did love him.