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“You’re on The Love Line with Liam.”
“Hi, my wife wants a dog and I don’t,” the man says.
“I get it,” I tell him. “I had a cat when I married my wife. The cat hated me but loved our son. Now, my son has a dog, and I love the dog. That doesn’t help you, now does it? But here’s the thing, when I go to their house or they come to mine, the dog is the first one to greet me. Her tail is always wagging and she needs ear scratches. So, this really isn’t about the dog,” I tell him. “It’s never about the dog. She wants something in that house that’s glad to see her every single time she walks in the door. Be that or get the dog.”
“You’re right,” he says. “I can’t remember the last time I met her at the door. I’ll try that. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck.”
Then the night turns.
Bex points me at a line. A man, middle of his life, the words coming slow and heavy. “Liam, I haven’t spoken to my brother in fifteen years. We went into business together. It went bad. We both said things you can’t take back. Fifteen years. Our kids have never met their cousins.”
“Who was right?”
“…I was.”
“You sure?”
“Mostly.”
“Fifteen years is a long time to be right.” I let those words linger between us before I continue. “At some point you have to pick one. Do you want to win, or do you want your brother back? Because you don’t get both, and you’ve had fifteen years of winning. How’s that going?”
“Not good.”
“Then call him. Not to argue it out again. To tell him you miss him. That’s the whole call. ‘I miss you, and the rest doesn’t matter to me anymore.’ Then you hush up and let him answer.”
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