Must Love Dogs: New Leash on Life (11 page)

Chapter

Fourteen

"
So then what happened?" Lorna asked.

It was the first leg of our annual spending of the end-of-the-year teacher gift certificates. Certificates to nail salons outnu
mbered local restaurants two to one this year, perhaps because of the recent opening of a new Marshbury manicure place called In Good Hands. It was a lovely thought that the parents of our students believed they were in good hands, but it could just as easily have been symbolic of the fact that, once again, the Bayberry teachers had spent an entire school year working their fingers to the bone.

I sighed and adjusted the Ace bandage on my wrist.
"Well, let's just say we went straight from romance to R.I.C.E."

"
You did the right thing," Gloria said. "You have to give props to all those painful first aid classes they force us to take every year. Gotta love R.I.C.E.—rest, ice, compression and elevation will do it every time." She reached over from her pedicure chair to elevate my hand a little higher. "And as soon as we move on to drinks, I fully intend to donate my ice cubes to the cause, honey."

"
You're too kind," I said.

Lorna leaned over and patted my good hand.
"I think you should have made dog lover take you to the hospital, just for the drama of it. And to shame that nasty little mutt of his, of course."

"
He's not nasty," I said. "Just nasty to me."

"
Which one?" Gloria said. "The dog or the dog lover?"

"
The dog," I said. "The dog lover, I mean,
John
is a little bit like one of those parents whose kids can do no wrong though. If he had to choose between the two of us, I'm not sure I'd put my money on me."

Our pedicure chairs were three in a row, set up on a tiled pla
tform raised slightly higher than our footbaths. Our three pedicurists sat on stools below us, focused on our feet and completely ignoring the rest of us. They talked amongst themselves, atonal syllables bouncing all over the place, in a language I couldn't place, though occasionally I'd recognize something like
Disney World
. I glanced around the salon, hoping for a flag I could identify from our Flags Around the World unit at school.

"
Clearly, you need to put him on a program," Lorna said.

I turned in her direction, careful not to move my toes or my wrist.
"Which one?"

Lorna twisted in my direction. Her pedicurist yanked her back by the ankle.
"Ouch. The dog. What's his name . . . Hamlet."

"
Horatio," I said.

"
Nothing pretentious there," Lorna said.

"
Be nice," Gloria said. "It's the ultimate loyalty name. Remember, Horatio was willing to drink the rest of the poisoned drink that was meant for Hamlet?"

I shook my head.
"
This
Horatio would find a way to make sure I got the poison."

"Maybe the mutt's trying to beat you down until you pull an Ophelia," Lorna said.

"
Never happen," I said. "Too many swimming lessons in my formative years. Plus, I'm a floater."

Lorna cleared her throat.
"As I was saying before we went all Shakespeare, what you need to do is put the canine on a behavior mod program." She lowered her voice almost to a whisper. "Remember Spartacus MacLeish from, what, three years ago?"

Gloria burst out laughing.

"Cut it out," I said. "Sparty was a good kid. At least eventually."

"
Sure
he was," Lorna said. "All it took was getting him to stop biting the other kids, plus that poor guinea pig."

"
And," Gloria said, "let's not forget peeing in the sandbox—"

"
Give him a break," I said. "He had a cat at home. He thought it was the boys' bathroom."

"
Riiiight
," Gloria said. "His parents might have bought that line, but you're better than that, honey."

"
Anyway," Lorna said. "Remember, we finally got all the adults in the building to watch him nonstop, and every time he'd accidently do something right, we'd praise the living shit out of him."

"
Ohmigod," I said. "Remember how confused he was? After a while, he couldn't tell bad from good and he just did what we told him to."

Across from us, a woman peeked over her magazine at us. Lo
rna looked at me. I looked at Gloria.

Lorna cleared her throat.
"Doesn't it just make all the hard work and endless dedication worthwhile when a child's internal monitor clicks into place?" she said loudly. "There is nothing more rewarding then sending a future good citizen out into the world."

"
Here, here," Gloria said.

We were quiet after that. I watched my pedicurist paint a clear topcoat over my summery pink toenails. Then she reached for a sample board and held it out to me.

"Decal or not?" she said.

I wasn
't a decal kind of girl, but I took the board from her anyway, just to be polite. Tucked in the middle of shooting stars and leopard spots and paisleys and posies was the perfect little dog print.

I pointed.
"I'll have that one, please. Actually, I think I'll have ten of them."

I sipped a cup of herbal tea that tasted like freshly mowed grass while I waited for Lorna and Gloria to come out of their massage rooms. My own massage had been a disappointment. Halfhearted, to say the least
, and made more awkward by the fact that my ace-bandaged wrist was propped up on a pillow. Clearly Stefan did not have the soul of a masseuse. He was going through a tough time with his partner though, so I probably needed to cut him some slack. They were almost definitely finished for sure this time, and not only would they have to figure out who got to keep their apartment, but they also owned a time share together in Las Vegas they'd have to unload.

"
Couldn't you just share it?" I asked. Stefan was pounding my back, so it came out with extra syllables.

"
Oh, he'd like that all right." He dragged the heels of his hands down either side of my spine, added some more beach rose massage oil, dragged them again.

"
And he has the nerve, the
nerve
, to say this is all my fault."

I didn
't say anything.

"
Do you want to know
why
?"

I let out a soft, noncommittal sound, while I wondered what it was about me that caused perfect strangers to
overshare their personal lives. Kind eyes? Broad shoulders? A visible masochistic streak running, skunk-like, down the center of my back?

My eyes were closed and I was trying to pretend I was walking through a field of lavender, maybe in Provence, without a care in the world.
Sarah est une jeune fille insouciante
. I mouthed the words over and over like a mantra to try to tune out Stefan. When that didn't work, I switched to the old dishwashing detergent commercial.
Calgon, take me away. Calgon, take me away
.

"
Because I like to go out, and he likes to stay in. Because I like to make plans and he likes to go with the flow. Because I like to travel and he's a freakin' homebody. Which means. Stay home. And do. Nothing."

"
Ouch," I said as Stefan found a sore spot behind my right shoulder.

"
Stress," he said.

Yours or mine?
I wanted to ask, but I didn't. Instead I spent the rest of my massage wondering, not for the first time, how anybody ever stayed with anybody and how they somehow, against all odds, managed to make it work.

"
Enough with the inner and outer fluffification," Lorna said as we all flipped through our gift certificates. "Let's eat."

I propped my elbow on the little picnic table we
'd commandeered. It was strategically located between the salty breeze off the harbor and a packed row of waterfront restaurants.

I struggled to place some gift certificates on the table with my left hand. Ambidextrous I was not.
"I've got a pair of Oceanside Taverns and a pair of Seaside Seafoods. And I'm happy to share."

"
Either works for me," Gloria said. "I've got one of each."

"
Three of a kind," Lorna yelled as she slapped three Oceanside Taverns on the table. "I win!"

"
Good job, honey," Gloria said. I was pretty sure Gloria praised everyone she ran into all day long, like a switch she couldn't turn off. The clerk at the grocery store when he gave her the right change, the UPS delivery person who managed to find her address.
Good job, honey
, I imagined her saying to her husband after they finished having sex.

"
What's so funny?" Gloria asked

"
Not a thing," I said. "Okay, Oceanside Tavern it is."

Lorna was still flipping through her certificates.
"Teacher Depot? Like I don't spend enough of my own money on school supplies as it is. Now you're going to give me a
gift
that I have to spend on your kid?"

"
I got one, too," Gloria said. "But I'm okay with it. I can always spend it on my own kids." Gloria taught all day and then went home to her four kids. Sometimes I wondered how she did it and was relieved I didn't have to. Sometimes I was simply jealous that she had kids and I didn't.

Lorna waved her Teacher Depot certificate in Gloria
's direction. "Here, take mine. On principle alone." Lorna's kids were grown and gone. Her après school life seemed to consist of trying to get her husband, Mattress Man, to put down the remote and get out of bed.

I handed Gloria a gift certificate to an ice cream place called Sprinkles.
"Allow me to contribute to your kids' dentist bills."

Lorna flipped over another gift certificate.
"A knitting store? Like I have time to knit. It's beach season."

"
Maybe you can buy a finished sweater." I squinted until I could read the amount upside down. "Or at least a headband."

"
Good point," Lorna said. "And last year they gave me a mug, so I guess it's a step up. I mean, come on, they have his and her Land Rovers and their nanny makes better money than I do. And don't think I didn't trick her into telling me."

"
Oh," I said. "All these gift certificates just reminded me. There's this woman at John's office who gave him a present for 'the big guy'."

"
She gave him a present for his penis?" Lorna said.

"
Thank you," I said.

"
Penis presents are not okay," Gloria said.

"
Agreed," I said. "But it turned out to be a doggie painting kit for Horatio. Get this: you sprinkle some paint on the paper, cover it with this plastic thing, and let the dog walk all over it and,
voila
, you have a canine masterpiece." I shook my head. "Pathetic."