She gives a little huff and rises, arching her back as she continues her morning stretch.
“If I’m ever late, it’s because of her,” Gabe says.
I give Teddy a pat on the head and she wags her shaggy tail with slow contentment.
“I think she’s perfect,” I say.
“Oh, she’d agree,” Gabe says. “Ready?”
I get my first look at Cooper, Montana, in the daylight. The town is almost aggressively charming, with double-stacked buildings lining narrow streets, everything made of brick and stone. There are colorful wooden shutters on second-floor windows, delineating the apartments above the stores.
It’s cold—a fresh, bracing cold, which seems at odds with the bold sunlight and cloudless skies. At some point last night, it snowed and the light makes the ground sparkle. My ears have already begun to hurt from the chill, so I pull the hood of Katie’s coat up to protect them.
Just as I do, a man walks by wearing jeans and a flannel shirt. The sleeves are rolled up.
“Morning,” he says.
“Morning,” I say.
“Morning,” Gabe says.
Even though I can feel the chill through my jeans, I suddenly feel overdressed and out of place.
“Isn’t he cold?” I ask.
Gabe, who is wearing an unzipped coat over his sweater, shrugs.
“He’s probably running an errand,” he says. “No point in putting on a lot of layers if you’re just running to the store.”
I feel a little better.
“I guess we’re not just running to the store,” I say.
Gabe grins at me. “Not quite,” he says.
“Are we meeting Ollie?”
“He’s got other things to do today,” Gabe says.
As far as I can tell, the only reason Ollie is in Montana is to spend time with Gabe, but I’m not about to make a fuss on his behalf. If Ollie wants Gabe, he can come get him.
Until then, he’s mine.
“I thought I’d show you around,” Gabe says. “Just the two of us.”
“Okay,” I say.
Teddy walks between us, a slow, relaxed amble that I appreciate, even though it also makes me more aware of her age. Of time.
The Cozy isn’t open yet, but I attempt a casual glance as we pass. It’s dark inside, but I can still see that it lives up to its name. The walls are lined with shelves and I can see some overstuffed chairs placed in duos around the store.
“We’ll come back,” Gabe says.
He takes me to a coffee shop that flips its sign to OPEN just as we walk up.
“Morning, Violet,” Gabe says.
“Hi, honey,” the woman behind the counter says. “Your usual?”
“Can you add an extra croissant to my order?” he asks. “And whatever drink Chani wants.”
Violet waits patiently while I look at the menu.
“Earl Grey tea, please,” I say.
“Earl Grey, hot,” Gabe says.
He can still do a British accent.
I smile down at my hands.
We take our drinks and our croissants and continue our walk. The pastry is buttery and I let Teddy lick my fingers when I’m done. Her tongue is wide and flat like a cow’s.
We pass a hardware store with bright Christmas lights decorating the doorway. The tea warms my throat and coats the inside of my chest. There’s a toy store next to a jewelry store. They’re both decked out for the holidays. Well. One holiday.
“Any Jews in Cooper?” I ask.
“I think you’re the only one at the moment,” Gabe says.
All the lights I see are red and green, poinsettia garlands and mistletoe hanging in windows. Lots of baby Jesuses in their mangers.
“Hmm,” I say.
“There’s a synagogue in Myrna,” Gabe says. “About thirty minutes from here.”
“Hmm,” I say.
“I love this town.”
He says it like it’s the start of something more, so I turn toward him.
“I love this town,” he says again. “But I bought the house in L.A. because I don’t want to live here all the time. Especially when the smallness of the place is too much, in too many ways.”
He’s telling me something without actually saying it.
I’m not in any rush.
There’s an enormous Christmas tree at the end of the block, where the road is closed off to cars and the pavement turns to cobblestones. It’s very beautiful. We stand in front of it for a while. Teddy sniffs the branches that extend outward.
“Does she live here all the time?” I ask, thinking of how his Laurel Canyon house didn’t have any dog supplies.