“She had breast cancer and a heart condition, was doing okay, but may have had a heart attack. I checked on her before leaving for work and saw that she had passed. I called Jimmy first and he said not to call anyone until he came home. He was afraid you’d take her away without getting a chance to say good-bye.”

“How long ago was that?” one guy asks.

“Around two hours,” she says.

Haverty’s chest heaves as he tries to regain composure. This is the first time I’ve seen him cry. Most men are vulnerable when confronted with loss, especially when it’s their own mother, and he’s in better shape then I’d be at this moment. I can’t imagine losing either one of my parents.

“I love you Mama,” he pauses with a deep inhale. “Please don’t leave me, not yet, you said you’d be around for a long time. Please come back,” he sobs. “Please.”

Alyssa lies next to him and places her hand on the side of his face. “Turn toward me,” she whispers. “Let me hold you.” She takes his hand and guides him away from his mother. He moves slowly, keeps his eyes closed, turns, and seizes Alyssa in his arms.

The ambulance crew checks the body then lifts it onto a stretcher. My insides twist when Haverty calls out for his mother as she’s taken away. It’s one of the saddest, most heart-wrenching moments I’ve ever experienced.

“I’m sorry,” I wipe the tears off my face. “How can I help? What can I do?”

There’s no answer, no words, only weeping that fills the candlelit room. I can’t believe I’ve been such a self-centered bastard, a fucking piece of shit to my friends. How could I get so wrapped up in my own fucked up life not to see how difficult things have been for everyone else? It’s all about me, right? Poor me. I need a swift kick in the ass. Literally, someone should smack me across the face and wake me up. But that’s the problem; they love me so much, are so accepting of all my faults and problems, yet I haven’t done the same for them. They deserve better. At the moment, I can’t even imagine how anyone in my life would want to talk to me or call me a friend. They have no idea the love I feel for each and every one of them, and that’s my fault. I’m completely in the wrong.

My eyes are glued on the shadow cast on the wall; a large shape that rises and falls with their erratic breathing. Their bodies stay in a restless state, never slowing, or coming to rest. I wait, wondering if I should reach out, touch him, and attempt to console his loss again.

“Check on the dogs,” Alyssa mumbles into Haverty’s chest. “Please, Cove.”

I leave the room the moment she makes the request, making sure they’re okay, and in need of some fresh air myself. I’m unsteady, still faint, and when I walk downstairs to see the EMT’s left the door open and the dogs are gone, my body becomes consumed by a full-blown panic attack. Dear Lord.

I’m thankful to see Max right outside next to a tree stump, taking a piss. I pull him in by his collar and close the door behind me, heading back out to find Prudence. The rain’s heavier now, and I’m worried she’s gone. I can’t let that happen. Not now, not tonight.

“Prudence!” I yell.

It’s dark and most of the streetlights are broken so it’s hard to see at a distance. There’s no sign of her. I check the empty lot, and then start to walk, the rain soaking my clothes and matting my hair to my forehead. I can’t take much more of this miserable weather. Or tragic days, for that matter.

“Prudence!”

Nothing. No movement except for the drops of water falling before my eyes. “Please come home,” I whisper, knowing the words aren’t meant solely for the dog. “I should be out looking for you, bringing you and our child home. Protecting you from all the bad weather in this world.”

I start to run, searching frantically for the dog. Bulldogs are big, she won’t be able to disappear on these open and abandoned streets, and as long as she hasn’t made it to the tracks or a lot behind a building, I’ll find her.

For a while I start to feel lost myself, but when I stop to catch my breath, panting, swiping my hair from my face, a swift movement on the opposite side of the street catches my eye.

The kids we passed earlier while driving in the Escalade are still out in the rain... and Prudence is with them. As I start to cross the street they take a step back, one on each side of the large dog, each holding her collar securely. I stop, unsure if they’re afraid of me, or if they don’t want me to take Prudence away.

“It’s my friend’s dog,” I say. “Her name’s Prudence.”

They have blank stares and I can see now that they’re twin boys who look eerily like myself when I was that age. Dark hair and eyes, thin-framed, and shy.

“Where do you live?” I ask. There’re no houses on this block, nothing but boarded up buildings. “Where are your parents?”

“Lost,” one says softly.

“In their own heads,” the other says.

Their words send shivers down my spine. I’m waiting for an elevator to open and a pool of blood to spill out resembling a scene from The Shining.

Prudence is sopping wet and I’d like to get her home, and wish I could do the same for the boys. Their hands fall to their sides as they release the collar, but there’s no further movement from them, or the dog.

“If she loves you, she’ll come to you,” one says.

I put my hand out and Prudence turns her head to them, then back to me, and sprints to my side. “Good girl,” I whisper, with a pet to her head.

The boys race away, slowing only to hop in puddles with a laugh. They kick the water at one another, and then sprint down the sidewalk.

One stops and looks back with a smile. “See you around,” he waves, before disappearing with his brother.

I stand in the street with Prudence by my side, both of us drenched, shaking, our bodies shadowed by the night.

“Let’s get you home, girl.” She pins her ears back and listens. “Fuck, I have so much to do.” Her big eyes gaze up and she pants. “I’m thankful for you more now than I ever have been in the past, and we’re just getting started.”

CHAPTER TWENTY

The police were at Haverty’s house when I made it back with the dog. They asked questions about the death and took statements from the three of us, normal procedures when a person dies unexpectedly. I can’t remember the number of times over the past week I’ve interacted with the police. They should just give me a uniform and a badge and I can fill out my own reports as events occur in my life.

Haverty and I sat across from one another in his living room; discussing medication costs, hospital bills, and the numerous treatments his mother’s been through over the past two years. Even with a good insurance plan, they didn’t have enough to meet their monthly expenses. His entire check went to keeping her alive, providing her with the best care he could afford, and in the end, when a drug for her breast cancer was costing them close to three grand a month, he just couldn’t keep his head above water. He said he’s not surprised her heart gave out, considering all the drugs and procedures she’s been through. Sometimes the treatments do more harm than good.

At one point during the conversation I reached out and held his hand. He provided a partial smile and I hope the act offered comfort during his time of loss. I pay close attention to his every word, never mentioning Sophia, or what’s happening in my life, or that I feel like shit about inviting them to an expensive restaurant, and that Alyssa had to go out and buy a dress to wear. I don’t bring up his home or how they’ve been living or change the conversation to be about my feelings instead of his. I just listen.

His emotions flip during our conversation, from a smile when Alyssa puts her hand on his shoulder or walks by, to tears when he gazes at the stairs to the second floor. I know he can’t stay here tonight... that he shouldn’t stay in this house right now. The memories are too painful. I offer to set them up in a hotel with the dogs, and when they decline, I suggest it would be best to have friends and family around to help them through this, that both Sophia and I are here for them, and they should stay with us. It takes some convincing. Haverty’s not the type to ask for help, but in the end, I think he agrees more for Alyssa and the dogs’ sake, than for himself, which is fine by me. I don’t care why he finally said okay, as long as I get him somewhere else for the night, out of the mold, stench, and leaky ceilings, away from the room where his mother passed, and into a place with electricity and AC.