Page 27 of Shamed
At least Dad gave me some time before I have to start some online classes of his choosing. He finally understood that I may not be ready to jump into learning about running a business. And that’s why he started me in the shallow end as his errand girl.
Once I’m ready to start the online courses, he’ll hook me up with a shelter of my choice. Of course, I know I don’t need to wait for him to do that. I can walk in and apply to volunteer at any one of them at any time.
But I think I also needed time to accept my new future. Time to readjust.
With another sigh, I push off the couch and return to the kitchen. Time to make some more cookies.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Jennifer
Brimley’s furry head nudges my hand that had paused its stroking when I opened my Instagram.
“Sorry, boy,” I tell him absentmindedly while sitting a little straighter and resuming the petting. But the organ in my chest aches further with each picture I flick through.
Jersey and Matt holdinghands.
Jersey and Matt kissing.
Jersey and Matt with their hands up, confetti caught mid-air around them.
Jersey and Matt cutting a cake.
Jersey and Marni with their heads pressed together, grinning wide.
Jersey and Matt finally got married, and I wasn’t a part of it—not that I really expected to be. We haven’t been friends for some time now.
I tried for more than a couple of years. I think we all did. But I couldn’t bounce back to the person I was beforethat night, no matter how much effort I made. I felt broken and irreparable.
Even when I managed to start living a somewhat normal life again, our interests no longer aligned.
They liked being social and going to parties or gatherings. But parties made me anxious and I’d break into a sweat.
They liked to drink and be carefree, while I couldn’t stop being cautious, either choosing bottled water or watching every step of my drink being made.
Eventually, any invites they may have sent my way stopped coming, and we became more like acquaintances. At some point, that faded into no longer reaching out.
I’ve still followed their lives from the sidelines, checking their social media, always with longing in my chest and a sad smile on my face.
They all look happy.
“Hey, Jen, did you manage to clean all those kennels?”
Quickly closing my screen, I look up at Simone poking her head through the door. “Yeah, I did. I was just giving Brimley some love before leaving.”
Brimley, the eight-year-old German Shepherd, who was dropped off at this shelter about six months ago, has yet to be adopted. The poor thing was so scared and skittish at first, but he has since warmed up to most of the staff and volunteers.
That’s who I am—a volunteer. Someone who cleans kennels and does whatever other odd jobs the real staff doesn’t want to do. Not the person people bring their pets to so I can help them get better. That dream died a while ago.
Maybe someday I’ll revisit it.
I glance down at Brimley. At least I get to spend time with these guys and take them for walks. If I weren’t living in a building my father owned and was adamant of no pets of any sort, I’d have taken him home with me a while ago.
“Thanks, Jennifer. And thank you for those delicious cookies you brought in.” She taps the doorframe. “I’m leaving for the day. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
“You, too.”
Her leaving is my cue to get up and go as well. I don’t like staying when it’s just Mike and Colin here, the evening shift employees. They’ve never done or said anything wrong; in fact they’re quite friendly—but I had thought the same thing about Jacob.
