This is a novella of the friendship that develops between thirty something, Jameson, and seventy something , Iris. It is written in first person point of view. Each character will have their own chapter.

So far, Jameson's dog, Heston, escapes the house and runs towards the center of town. Luckily, Heston stops in front of an older woman named Iris. After talking with her for a few minutes, Jameson invites her for coffee.

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IRIS

Seeing that beautiful dog makes me think of my childhood. The feel of his fur takes me back to those beautiful summer days when my younger brother, John, and I would run through the fields. There were always games to play. Hide and seek was our favorite. My own Irish wolfhound, Daphne, would leap around, searching for rabbits or squirrels. She was terrible at hide and seek, poking her head up to give away my hiding spot. But she was a good dog, very sweet and loyal.

This hound, outside, is much larger than Daphne was.

I probably shouldn't but I laugh when people scream in terror as he races through the town square. Despite his enormous size, I can tell he is still a pup.

Still, I feel bad for his owner. He is expecting a chewing out or a lecture at the least.

The young man, thirty , if I have to guess, is wearing gray sweat pants and a dingy white t-shirt. I peek at him through the window of the pharmacy. He's squatting down next to his dog. He loves the dog, I can see it plain as day.

Yet, as friendly as he appears, there is a sense of loss and sadness to him. It's as if, he's watching the world around him fall apart.

That's when the mother in me accepts his invitation for coffee.


*****************

After I come out of the pharmacy, I'm two hundred and sixteen dollars lighter in the wallet. Two hundred for my prescription, and fourteen ninety-nine for a leash for Heston.

Jameson is still holding Heston by the collar, hunched over and staring at his phone the way most people do nowadays.

"I bought Heston a present," I say, reaching into the white bag that holds my million dollar drug.

"Oh, you didn't have to," he says, but stops when he realizes how ridiculous he looks holding the animal by the collar. "I'll pay you back,"

I wave off his offer. "It's a gift for my new friend, correction, friends."

He smiles as he hooks the lead to the dog's collar. "Wow, rainbows."

"You don't like rainbows?" I ask. "They seem very popular now."

*******************

I go into the coffee shop while he and Heston wait outside. By the time I come out, Jameson waves at me from a cafe table.

"Wasn't sure how you take your coffee, so I brought a bit of everything." I reach into the small paper bag and grab a handful of pink packets. "Sweet and Low?"

"Black is fine."

"So, tell me, Jameson, what do you do for a living?"

"Currently I'm doing some data entry work. It's part time, but the money isn't too bad."

"Do you like it? "

"It's sitting in front of a computer about six hours a day. Not my dream job."

"You lost me at computer. I've never owned one." I stir the sweetener into the steaming cup.

"Really?" He sits back in his chair, as if I've just told him I'm from Mars. He laughs lightly. "I don't think I've ever met anyone who didn't own a computer."

"No fancy phone either."

"But, you do have a cell phone."

I reach into the front pocket of my purse and pull out my silver flip phone. "It's a classic. For emergencies."

He has a sweet smile. It starts in his eyes then covers every inch of his face. He is small boned with delicate features and reed thin.

"What does your wife do?"

"Oh, Claire? She's a buyer for several boutiques."

"That must be exciting."

His lips press together as he looks down then away. "She loves it."

"Does she travel?" I ask.

"Yes. As a matter of fact, she's in Atlanta now."

I sip my coffee, giving him time to collect himself. His mood is changing. After a minute, I set my cup back on the table. "Well, I'd love to meet her."

"That would be nice," he says, his finger tracing the coffeehouse logo on his cup. "She needs to meet more people. One of her biggest complaints about living here is because she doesn't know anybody."

"Working and having a child, it's tough to have a social life."

He nods, staring absently at his hands. He's trying to hide something or figure out how to broach something. Either way, if he means to share it with me, he will when he's ready.