Dark Destiny by Avelyn Paige

Delilah

“Just look at the damn file,”I berate myself.

The file in question is the one on the new inmate Jessica brought in under heavy guard to see me last week, and has been sitting on my desk, taunting me all weekend. I pace the floor, muttering, “It’s just a file, for crying out loud, not his diary. Read the thing.” Back and forth I go, wearing a hole in the already worn linoleum of my office floor before I sigh in frustration.

What is it about this guy that has me so on edge? He’s an inmate. He’s on the inside, you’re on the outside. It’s not going to happen. Besides, the guy is a complete asshole. It didn’t take more than a few sentences strung together by him to figure that out. That’s the last thing I need in my life right now. Jesus.Why did that even pop into my head?

Bristling up my courage, I plop down into my seat and throw open the manilla envelope, only to have his black-and-white photo staring back at me. I lean in and study it closely. A wide jawline and cheekbones poke out from under his bristly, long beard, but it’s his dark eyes that grab my attention. Even on paper, I can feel the intensity of his dark eyes on me, just like in person. How is that even possible? A quiver runs down my spine, feeling as if he’s in the room with me now.

Nope. Not today, doppelganger. Grabbing a Post-It note from my desk, I stick it over his photo. Now you see me, now you don’t. I shift my focus down to actual words in his file and away from his photo.

Rhett Darby. So, he does have a name. I mean, of course he does, but seeing it makes it more real. Why does he go by such an odd nickname, then? It’s not like his name is awful. Hell, it could be much worse. Just ask my cousin Hubert. My aunt and uncle loved older names from the family. Thank God my parents didn’t. With my luck, they would have named me after my great-aunts Hortense or Leafa.

The rest of his file isn’t what I would’ve expected. Driving under the influence, grand theft auto of a law enforcement vehicle, and a slow speed case. I frown. How do you have a slow speed chase? I burst out in laughter at the thought of that big man in a cop car driving like grandma on a Sunday. He either has a wicked sense of humor, or has a screw loose.

A knock on my office door interrupts my laugh. “Come in.”

Bridgette, one of our local college weekend volunteers, pops her head inside. “Someone’s having a good day,” she remarks. “I haven’t seen you smile that like since I started working here.”

“What’s up, buttercup?” I greet her, ignoring that little comment.

“There’s an older man here who wants to talk to you.”

“Oh? Why’s that?”

Her face goes slack. “He’s here to surrender his dog.”

“Oh.”

Another one. That makes four just this week. Normally, surrenders trickle in here and there, but this many in one week, not related to a hoarding case or puppy mill, is very odd. Pushing away from my desk, I stalk over to the door and follow Bridgette into the lobby. A frail-looking man sits on a bench with a beautiful Yorkshire Terrier sitting on his lap. He strokes her lovingly, speaking softly to her as we approach.

“Hi, I’m Delilah.”

He gently lifts the dog from his lap and tries to stand when I extend out my hand.

“Please, sit. I’ll come to you.” Smiling, I take a seat next to him on the bench.

“I’m Howard,” he begins, his voice shaky and weak. “And this is Penelope.”

Penelope looks cautiously at her owner before he nods, and she shifts her head to give my hand a sniff before licking it.

“It’s nice to meet you both. Bridgette tells me you’re here to surrender your dog. Can I ask why?”

He continues to stroke her fur as he speaks. “My wife, Dolores, passed away a few months back.”

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Howard. My condolences.”

“Thank you.” He takes a deep breath. “I’ve taken care of my dear Dolores for the last several years after she got sick with cancer. After she died, my health started declining, and taking care of Penelope has been much harder on me. We can’t go for our long walks anymore. She loves those, you see.” His frail hand shakes as a few tears fall from his weathered eyes. Penelope leans hard into his hand, trying to comfort him.

“She obviously loves you.”

“She’s been my best girl since Dolores passed on. We do… well, we did, everything together.”

My heart cracks at that statement. The longer he talks, another piece of my heart chips away with his tears.

“Penelope is certainly lucky to be loved so much by you, Howard, but are you sure this is what you want to do?”

“I’m having surgery tomorrow, and the doctors tell me there’s a chance I won’t walk out of there. He presses the tips of his fingers to his chest. “Bad ticker.”

“Oh, no,” I gasp. How scared he must be with that knowledge. I know I’d be terrified if our roles were reversed.

“I can’t go into that hospital knowing Penelope would be left alone, so I came here. She’s all I have left.”

“You don’t have to surrender her, Howard. We have other options. Fostering, for example. One of our amazing volunteer families could foster Penelope until you get back on your feet. We do that for a lot of people who live on their own.”

“As nice as that idea is, Miss Delilah, Penelope deserves to be with someone who can keep up with her and go on those long walks. If I make it through the surgery, I’ll be moving into an assisted living facility permanently. I can’t take her with me, as much as I’d like to do that.”

The last chunk of my heart breaks away in my chest. He really doesn’t have any options other than surrendering her to our care. As much as I hate that he’s forced to make this kind of decision, his situation deems it necessary.

“I understand,” is all I can muster up to say.

He reaches down next to his leg and pulls a bag onto his lap. “I put all of her favorite toys and treats in this bag. Her bed and stuffie, BunBun Baby, are in there as well.” He passes it over to me. “I put the last of her food in there, the stuff she really likes. I wrote the name down on a piece of paper and where I buy it.”

“That’s so helpful. Thank you.”

“Promise me something. Make sure whoever takes her home will love her as much as I do. She’s a special girl.”

“She’ll go home with the best family, Howard, I promise you that. If you’d like, I can see if the adopters would be open to letting her see you, if you’d be interested in that?

He sighs, but smiles. “I’d like that. Just to know she’s happy would be enough for me.”

“If you can leave me the information of which facility you’re going to be staying in after your surgery, I’ll be sure to pass it along.” Bridgette walks over to the front desk and grabs a pen and pad of paper. Handing it to him, he scribbles down the information and hands it back to her.

“You’re a good woman, ma’am. Not many people would have sat here listening to an old man drivel on about his woes like this.”

Reaching out, I take his hand in mine and give it a squeeze. “Sitting here with you and Penelope is why I do this job—helping animals and people.” Squeezing mine back, he pulls it away and pets on Penelope.

“Do you mind if I sit here a little longer with her?”

“You can sit here as long as you like. Take as much time as you need.”

Giving them both some space, I take Bridgette with me back behind the front counter. We both watch from afar with tears in our eyes as Howard and Penelope say their goodbyes. He whispers loving words to her, petting and hugging her for over an hour. Then, with tears in his eyes, he places her in my arms and waves one last goodbye before disappearing out the door. Penelope whimpers in my arms, watching him.

“Shh, shh, Penelope. It’ll be okay,” I try to reassure her with calm tones as I feel her heart breaking in my arms.