There's much to consider now that Temple has given me his lecture, but Natalie still needs to be my top priority. The hospital pulls a bed in for me and sets it beside Natalie's so I have a place to sleep tonight. Tallulah and Temple leave, but I refuse to abandon Natalie. She falls asleep again, but I lie awake in bed, with the covers pulled close to my chin, and think.
While I believe Teddy is the best thing that's happened to Natalie and me in a while, that still doesn't change the fact that he almost attacked her. The Humane Society seems like the best and worst option now, but I can't decide until I see how Natalie interacts with Teddy after she's discharged. That's the plan for now, and it begins in the morning when she's released.
Tallulah picks us up from MUSC, and the car ride home is quiet because Natalie's still recovering. The doctor says she needs another day or two of bed rest before trying anything that may overexert her. I'm too old to care for Natalie myself, so Tallulah has agreed to be my backup nurse. It's as if I've gained another daughter.
Natalie and Tallulah's relationship reminds me of Ted and me. We always looked out for each other—even in our most harrowing moments. I no longer have a best friend to share times like this with. I guess I can only be a dad now, and that means making the difficult decision to put Teddy up for adoption or not.
Greg is standing on the house's front steps when we return home. He clutches the railing and prances down them to help Tallulah and me with Natalie. I don't see Teddy or Sophie behind him in the doorway.
Greg grabs Natalie's bag from the car's trunk, and Tallulah pulls her out from the back seat. They enter the house first, leaving Greg and me to rest in the shade of a palm tree.
"How's Teddy?" I ask first, rubbing the sweat from my brow.
"Honestly, not good," Greg answers, facing me. "He's been hiding under the kitchen table since you guys left. Sophie hasn't been playful, either. She's just been on her tower."
Wow. That's how scarred the animals are? I know some argue that they don't feel emotions like humans, but I find that false. Nonetheless, it doesn't mean I forgive Teddy for what happened.
Once Greg and I enter the house and reach the kitchen, I see Natalie coddling a purring Sophie and Teddy glancing at me from under the table. He begins moving his paws, but I glare, and he retreats.
The house is spick-and-span after last night's incident; the dishes are put away, the barbecue stain is off the carpet, and there is even a bouquet of roses sitting on the kitchen table.
"Thank you, Greg," I say after examining the house.
He nods.
Tallulah clutches Natalie's arm. "Come on, Natalie, let's get you off to bed." She lugs Natalie out of the kitchen and returns ten minutes later. "Okay, she's settled for now. I need to run home for a few hours, Bill. Will you be okay by yourself?"
"I will," I respond. It seems I'm reverting to my brief answers, the way I spoke before volunteering at Patriots Point. Is Temple right? Am I slipping back into my old ways?
Greg rests his palm on his chest. "I'll be here to help, just in case. You get some rest, Tallulah."
She smiles and grips my hand, shaking it. "Everything will be okay, Bill. I promise. Hey, I've got an idea." She snaps her fingers. "How about I take you and Natalie on a boat ride around the Charleston Harbor in a few days when Natalie's stronger? Get you guys some fresh air and a trip to Drum Island?"
"Drum Island?" I say aloud. "And you own a boat, Tallulah?"
She scoffs slightly. "Of course! I learned to boat a long time ago. I couldn't live in Charleston without having a boat or golf cart. Besides, Drum Island is fun. It's where all the shark teeth wash up."
Shark teeth. That sends a shiver down my spine because I know sharks attacked a lot of downed war pilots (which is why we always had our shark repellent). An island where a lot of shark teeth wash up, though? Drum Island sounds interesting, but I have other things to worry about now.
"Maybe some other time, Tallulah," I answer her. Should I tell Natalie? Not right now.
I observe Natalie for the next day and notice she's avoiding Teddy, who only comes out from under the table to use the bathroom. At one point, she tries kneeling and reaching for him, but the second Teddy's paw moves, I push Natalie back with my cane.
She glares and says, "Daddy, please, he won't hurt me." Yet, she gulps and retreats from Teddy, returning to her chair beside Sophie's tower.
This isn't working. We can't keep this dog, and I pull the trigger when Tallulah comes for a daily check-in. "Tallulah, can you get Teddy in the car for Natalie and me? We're taking him to the Humane Society."
"Wait, what?" Natalie's face turns a bright shade of red. "No, Daddy, I just need more time with him."
I lower my voice and take her shoulder. "It's for the best, Natalie. We can't risk a heart attack." I never thought I would be the one to decide not to keep Teddy, but here I am. If I'm supposed to move on from the Incident, the dog, my new Ted, has to go. It hurts, but it is the best thing for Natalie and me.
"Dad, please," Natalie begs. "Teddy is the best thing that's happened to us since you saved me in the alleyway." Great, now she's plagiarizing Temple?
"I'm sorry, Natalie," I whisper, turning to Tallulah. "Come on, Tallulah. I'm sure Natalie and I will find a wonderful home for him."
Tallulah scoffs again and sarcastically mumbles, "I'm sure you will."
***
"Dad, is there anything Tallulah and I can do to change your mind?" Natalie squeezes the passenger seat's headrest and sucks in a wave of the AC at the front of Tallulah's car.
We've just turned onto Remount Road and are about five minutes away from the Humane Society (well, according to the GPS, it's called the Charleston Animal Society).
"Why are you arguing with me about this?" I growl at Natalie. "You don't like dogs, Natalie."
"Correction!" she snaps. "I didn't like dogs until we got Teddy. Our deal, Dad. Have you forgotten our deal over one little mishap? I thought you had changed."
I had, but then this happened, and now I'm stuck in another wave of grief that I don't know how to ride. Why am I doing this? Because I don't want to lose my daughter, too. And I won't leave Teddy not knowing if he's in good hands. I know he is when we pull into the Charleston Animal Society.
It's like we've entered another world. The grandeur of the building is red, and it looks like a farmhouse with smaller buildings branching off from it. A fountain is before it, and lines of palm trees fill the enormous parking lot. I even notice a few gates and people playing with animals behind them.
Although it stings, I say, "Look, Natalie," and gesture at the animal shelter. "It's a good place for him. He can play with the other animals behind those gates and—"
"Dad, don't pretend like you want to give him up," Natalie argues. "Please, I love you, but you must consider this. I'm scared of what will happen if we do this."
"Me, too," Tallulah agrees, squeezing the steering wheel. "Besides, this will ruin the 'big' surprise."
Great, now they're toying with me. I no longer care about the "big" surprise; I only want to keep Natalie safe. Contemplating this, I swing open my door and step outside. I hobble to the car's trunk and open it, meeting Teddy's melancholic, dark eyes. "I'm sorry, Teddy," I apologize. "I wanted things to work out—I did—but we'll ensure you're given a nice home."
But I want to stay with you and Natalie, reads Teddy's eyes.
"I know," I respond, "but I can't risk losing someone I love. Not again."
Natalie sneaks up on me and sets her hand down on the trunk's interior. "Dad, I think you need to hear these words yourself." She pauses for a minute and then inhales and exhales. "I want to keep Teddy."
I freeze with her words, letting them sink in, and then reply, "I do, too, Nat, but we can't. Not right now." With that, I grunt and pull Teddy out of the trunk, gently setting him beside me.
Natalie opens her mouth, but Tallulah pulls her aside and whispers to her.
I'm grieving too much to listen, but I allow Teddy to lean against me one more time.
He whines and licks my dangling free hand, careful not to accidentally knock me over.
Once Natalie and Tallulah finish talking, Natalie rubs her eye and stands tall. "Okay, Dad." She approaches and picks up Ted. "While I don't agree that this is the best thing for us, I've learned not to argue with you anymore." She narrows her eyes. "No matter how hard I try, you'll always be that grumpy man who can never recover from something that happened seventy years ago. Yeah, I'm proud of you, Dad."
Ow. That's an arrow to the heart. Natalie's given up on me because of a dog?
A few tears run down her cheeks. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's put him up for adoption."
Ow, again. Alas, I follow a quiet Natalie and Tallulah to the Humane Society's main entrance and pass my hand through the fountain's wavy, warm water. Stopping over it, I grip the fountain's sides and study my elderly reflection. However, it soon changes to reflect my twenty-one-year-old self and Ted beside me, his curly blonde hair styled in all its glamor.
I shake my head and slap Ted's reflection away. I need to move on; I'm never getting him back. I must eliminate everything that reminds me of him, starting with Teddy and then Willed when Natalie and I return home.
I feel and watch as tears drip into the fountain, where I saw Ted's reflection. I wipe my eyes and follow Natalie and Tallulah into the Charleston Animal Society.
We're in the gift store, where the main counter is. Behind it are pictures of animals and signs that read Adopt, Foster, and Spay/Neuter. Collars, t-shirts, animal toys, and treats fill the vast store. The collars are tempting, but we're not here to get one.
An invisible rock strikes me when Natalie, Tallulah, and I stop before the counter, and we're greeted by the smiling face of a young girl who most likely thinks we're here to get something for Teddy, not give him up. It sinks me to the bottom of the ocean, and I land in a pile of memories featuring Ted and I. All I see are them, Tallulah, Natalie, and Teddy, not the Humane Society. So, this is what my black hole looks like? No light, only memories, a crushed dog, my daughter, and my daughter's new best friend. I've failed them all.
Crying harder, I lift my hands and hug Teddy in Natalie's arms. I rub him behind his floppy, black ears, under his chin, and kiss his head. "Goodbye, Ted," I say.
And that's it. I can't stay here anymore.
I kiss Teddy's head again, leave the store, and return to the fountain. What almost happened on my first day at Patriots Point happens.
I see the fountain as the Corsair, lift my cane over my head, and smack it against it. It snaps into two pieces, and they plummet into the flowing water, sinking.
"I hate you, Ted!" I shout into the hazy atmosphere beyond the Humane Society's palm tree canopy. "I want you back, but I'm never going to! I hate you!" And, just like that, I sit on the fountain's rim and bury my face.