7 Days in November, part 7 (Saturday)

TJ and Bourbon didn’t say much in the car. Bourbon didn’t really feel like talking, and TJ was happy to oblige. TJ only spoke once when they got in the car, after they had pulled out of the driveway and stopped at an intersection: “Are you OK?”

Bourbon folded his arms over his chest and stared out the window. His ears dropped. “I’m fine.”

TJ nodded. He took the long block back to his house slow, the houses that lined the street meandering past.

Farly and Ty were waiting when TJ pulled up to the house. Farly was on Bourbon as soon as he got out of the car. He pinned Bourbon to the side of the Checker, hugging him, resting his head on Bourbon’s shoulder. Ty watched a moment, hands behind her back. She looked content, and when Bourbon looked up at her, her tail flicked. She pulled Bourbon’s bag from the car and followed TJ inside. Bourbon gave Farly a quick squeeze, and went to collect the rest of his things.

Moving in went quicker than Bourbon had expected. Ty and Farly were there to help set everything up. TJ put him down in the guest bedroom, in the basement. There were no windows, which was fine, and just enough room for a bed, and a desk and chair. Bourbon couldn’t complain. He shrugged off that morning easily, the weight of everything falling away with it. With his few belongings in place, he stretched, looking around his room. Ty watched from Bourbon’s desk. She climbed off and started towards the door. As she passed Bourbon, she put her arm around him and pulled him close, pushing her head against his. Bourbon hugged her, and watched as she left his room, closing the door behind her.

Bourbon crawled onto his bed. He found a spot in the center and flopped down, rolling on his back. Farly, sitting on the edge of Bourbon’s bed, watched Bourbon settle in. He crawled over to him and lied down, resting his head in Bourbon’s shoulder, sliding his arm across Bourbon’s chest. Bourbon nudged Farly with is nose. Farly licked Bourbon’s chin, his tail thumping softly on the bed. Bourbon pulled him close.

For a moment, they were comfortable in their silence, growing drowsy in each other’s warmth.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Farly said, just above a whisper. He brushed his fingers over Bourbon’s arm.

“Me too.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

Bourbon sat up a little, looking at Farly. Farly quickly looked away. “Why would you think that?”

“Cause I got you kicked out of your house.”

“Farly…” Bourbon placed his hand on the mutt’s face. “It’s not your fault.”

“You’re not mad?”

Bourbon shook his head.

Farly sighed and buried his head in the curve of Bourbon’s neck. “I love you.”

Bourbon played with the fur on the back of Farly’s neck. “I love you, too.” Enveloped in warmth, he closed his eyes. Next to him, he felt Farly fall out of consciousness, his arm going limp against Bourbon’s side. Bourbon hugged Farly, and…

He opened his eyes. Farly had disappeared. He stretched and yawned and propped himself up on his elbows. Farly left the door open a crack, and light from the hallway filtered in. He stood and hobbled to the door.

Bryan was waiting on the other side, his hand frozen where the door knob had been. He drew his hand back.

“Hey… I was just coming to wake you up,” Bryan said, tilting his head and rubbing the back of his neck.”

Bryan wasn’t like the rest of them. Shrewd, but true; Bryan was part human. He looked like any normal wolf, except his ears and muzzle and tail were smaller than average. He was overweight, but it fit him. Bourbon thought it made him cute, like he would be easy to snuggle up with. He had long, soft head-fur that came down past his chin, and sometimes when he wanted to be alone, he would tilt his head down, letting his head-fur block out the world around him. On his muzzle sat a small pair of glasses, balanced or clamped on somehow. They made Bryan all the more soft, in a geek chic sort of way. Not that Bourbon noticed, or cared to admit he did.

Bourbon yawned again. “Thanks.”

“You doing anything tonight?” They headed upstairs to the kitchen.

“Not really. You?”

Bryan shrugged. “Some girl from Cherrywood is having a party. Ty and Farly and I are going to check it out. You should come.”

“I guess.”

“We’ll prolly only be there, like, half an hour. We’ll go home when it gets boring.”

“Sure.” They entered the kitchen to the smell of freshly-cooked stir-fry and crab rangoon. Ty, TJ, and Farly were busy placing the food on the table and setting places, and they instructed their guests to sit down.

They didn’t bother with a prayer before the meal. TJ didn’t need to run the show. There were only five of them, smaller than he was used to, but he had never felt more welcome at dinner, even when he had eaten over at Ty and Farly’s before. Things were different now. As he ate, he realized that when he woke up tomorrow, he’d be here, and on Monday, and Tuesday, and on Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and New Years. For the next two years of his life, he’d be here, with these people no more than a few seconds away. Despite his best efforts, he felt his face flush, and he hoped that none of the people he was eating with would notice.

At that moment, Bourbon had all he ever wanted. He had a home.