By a Thread by R. L. Griffin

at her expectantly. Stella smiled. “What? You want to dance?” she asked. She used to always cook dinner for Jamie while listening to music and dancing around the kitchen. Back then, Cooper would hear the music and stand on his hind legs, big paws on her chest, and let her guide him around the kitchen. That was when she was happy. They hadn’t danced in awhile. Stella patted her chest and Cooper obliged. They danced around the room for a few minutes before Patrick came into the kitchen, unnoticed because the volume of the music.
    Cooper ran over to Patrick wagged the entire back half of his body in hello. “Hey man, you got pretty good moves for a fat guy.” Patrick talked directly to Cooper. He looked up at Stella, “What you cooking?”
    “Whatever I want and you’ll like it,” she replied.
    “I’m sure I will.” Patrick moved past her and into his room.
    She began making the stuffing for the eggplant that was roasting. Singing to herself, she stiffened when she felt arms around her waist pulling her into a hug. “What?” she asked.
    “It’s just that seeing you a little bit happy or lackadaisical makes me feel all warm and cozy inside.” Patrick laughed. Letting go of her, he grabbed her wine, taking a huge gulp.
    “You’re weird,” she said, nudging his arm and forcing him to back up. Cooper stood in between them and looked hopefully at Stella for a scrap. “You don’t eat eggplant, Coop.”

    Once Billy got home, she set the table and they sat down to eggplant rollatini, salad, and garlic bread.
    “Damn. This is so good.” Billy wiped his mouth with a paper towel. “I was going to eat Frito pie for dinner.”
    “What the fuck is Frito pie?” Stella asked.
    “You’ve never heard of Frito pie?” Billy acted utterly appalled and offended by her lack of knowledge.
    “Um, no.” She looked from Billy to Patrick, who was smirking.
    “Frito pie is one of the most delicious meals I can make myself.” Billy looked to the left and the right, then he whispered, “I’ve got a secret recipe.”
    “I don’t want your recipe. I just want to know what it is?”
    “It’s basically chili dumped on corn chips,” Patrick answered. “It’s disgusting.”
    “How dare you?” Billy feigned outrage. “My secret recipe includes cheese, jalapenos and salsa.”
    “Sorry to offend, but that sounds gross,” Stella said. She took a bite of her eggplant and set her fork down. “Listen, I know we haven’t seen each other that much this year because I’ve been so busy with school, but I just wanted to say thanks for helping out with Cooper when I haven’t been around.”
    “Not a problem,” Patrick said.
    “Who is Cooper?” Billy asked and then laughed.
    At the sound of his name, Cooper looked up from his position under the table, his tail swishing from side to side.
    Stella looked around at her family, the two people that helped her get through the last couple of years, and at Cooper, now the love of her life. All of a sudden it hit her like a bullet, she realized she was happy. Of course “happy” was relative. She was in law school and it was kicking her ass, but she was enjoying it. For the past several years she was sure she would, could never enjoy anything again. People like to throw around the old adage that time heals everything . That adage sucked because it felt condescending when someone else used it towards you. And it isn’t exactly helpful. She felt ready to admit that time makes things tolerable . Time gives you perspective on events that shake your world to the core. Time allows you to move forward. But time doesn’t change the pain that sits in your gut. It doesn’t impact the trickle of sweat and fear that traces your spine when the phone rings in the middle of the night. Time doesn’t alter how that pain changed your entire personality. In fact, time, which had made things tolerable, had actually allowed her to appreciate how precarious life was and gave her a little