Counting Paths

Chapter 18.

"No-"

"I said no. We can leave if you can't play with the other dogs." She folds her arms over her chest, challenging me. "I'm not-"

"Ever heard of 'don't judge a book by a cover'?" She questions, then she quickly walks away before I can say anything. I reach out to grab her but I pull away at the last second.

Shit.

"Sterling!"

She reaches the dog and its owner, and the dog begins wagging its tail happily. "Don't worry," the guy says as I move beside Sterling. "She likes people."

"When did you get her?" I ask him.

"Oh, not me." He points, and I follow his finger in the direction of a much older woman sitting alone on a bench. "My grandmother got Wentworth when she was a puppy."

I look at him again. "Your grandmother?"

Sterling takes the opportunity and kneels in front of Wentworth, petting behind her ears.

"It's my grandmother's dog, but I walk her and take her to the park." He steps around Sterling and Wentworth and extends his hand to me. "Michael."

I shake his hand. "Roland."

"Oh, I know." And that's when I notice the fear in his eyes, the shakiness of his grin. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, king."

"He's lying," Sterling says singsong.

I roll my eyes playfully. "That's Sterling."

He chuckles nervously. "Princess Sterling. The rumors are true."

"Fuck rumors," I growl before Sterling can say anything. "She's under my wing and it's as simple as that."

Michael nods firmly. "Yes, sir."

A small collection of minutes tick by quickly as I watch Sterling play with the dog. I have to admit, I feel better knowing Wentworth lives with a woman over the age of sixty. Once I know Sterling is safe and won't have a finger bitten off, I excuse myself, assuring her that I will be back soon, then I walk away and approach Michael's grandmother. She doesn't seem to notice my arrival.

"Uh, hello?"

She gestures to our little group with a gentle nod of her head. "Is that your daughter?"

"Uh, she's, um...yes-no, I mean...I'm just watching her for a little." Why the fuck was that so hard for me to answer? I swallow the sudden lump in my throat and rub my hand through my hair.

She shakes her head almost shamefully, her gray eyes locked on Sterling. "Do you know what an aura is, young man?"

"Yes...I think so."

"Your...daughter's aura is bright, colorful. She's very happy and cheerful and full of life. But there's a thin circle of darkness in her hall of light. I think it flickers with strength. I think...this darkness will consume her in time. You need to do something. Whatever she is to you, will you help her?" If I hadn't known the truth about Sterling, I would say this old woman is crazy. "You know, animals have the brightest auras I have ever seen," she continues, not giving me a chance to answer her question. "Have you ever considered getting her a pet?"

"No," I say quietly.

She finally looks at me. "I would give you my Wentworth but I knew her mother!"

I gulp. "Do you think it's that serious? She's in that much need of a pet?"

"Oh, the sooner the better! Especially before another low."

"Another low?"

She peers up at me with a puzzled expression like I should already know what she's talking about. "Bipolar depression."

"No-"

"I could be wrong! But I see the way her aura moves, and I've seen it before. And she's still so young. Do you know if she's gotten her period yet?"

"No. Why would I know that?" I almost retort.

It makes her chuckle softly to herself. "You are very defensive, young man. And stubborn. You must fight a lot with your daughter."

"She's not my...so, what? Getting her a pet is going to cure her?"

She smiles, satisfied with defeat. "You can not cure depression, boy. Get her a pet, let her feel the constant support and love of a loyal friend. Take her to someone, talking out her feelings and thoughts, and getting a second perspective will help her feel a sense of control. Maybe get her pills to sleep, if sleeping is already a struggle. Sleep is important! Too many people these days just wave it off. Truly sad."

"Roland!" Sterling comes rushing up to me. She crashes into me, hugging my arm. "You okay?" She whispers.

I nod. "I'm good. Are you-" I notice her trying to tug at the hem of her crop top. "Makeup?"

She nods. "I want to go home."

"Are you sure? I have a jacket-"

"Please?" She begs, pouting with her big colorful eyes.

I turn to the elderly woman. "It was nice meeting you and your grandson and your Wentworth. Thank you for your advice. Be safe." I wrap an arm around Sterling and stir her away.

We make a beeline for the car in a light sprint and hurry inside.

She slaps down the visor and peers into the mini mirror, examining the makeup on her face. I'm not sure how rough she was playing with the dogs, but it was surely rough enough to smear her makeup on her face and back and make the bruises almost visible. "I'm such an idiot," she mutters to herself. "Why did I think this was going to work?"

"You're not an idiot," I tell her. "And it did work. Next, we can-"

"There won't be a next time!" She retorts. "I won't be so fucking stupid. I'll just wear normal fucking clothes until my skin heals."

"There's nothing wrong with what you're wearing. Next time, you can bring your makeup."

"Yeah, right," she scoffs. She folds her arms over her chest and falls back against her seat, slouching. Her eyes begin to pool. "You did almost lose your shit at the movie theaters, must I remind you. I'm surprised you haven't come after me about it yet. And I'm done with makeup. I tried and look where it's gotten me."

"First, what happened that movie theaters were on those little boys, that has nothing to do with you. I'm not going to shame you for feeling comfortable in your body. Second..." I grip the Sterling wheel. "I think you shouldn't give in, you're too strong for that shit, but I get it, you're emotional right now. Luna told me never to make an important decision with a negative mindset."

She blinks away her tears before they can fully form yet. "You think I'm giving in?"

"Yes. You shouldn't give up after the first attempt."

She fights a smile.

"What?" I push. "Are you about to laugh at me?"

"I'm sorry but you sound so cheesy!"

I do, but I won't admit it. "You completely missed my point."

"No, no...no. Let's...see how I'm feeling later-"

"Thank you." I turn on the car.

"But I still want to go home."

"After."