What the Dog Ate (30 page)

“I guess. I mean, you talk like
you’re so old, but I think you’re probably looking at this from a worst case
scenario view.” He took a drink from his water bottle. “What if you worked as
an accountant, only at a place you could be passionate about. I mean, the whole
green cleaning products thing is nice and all, but I know it doesn’t exactly
have you jumping out of bed in the morning. What if you worked at a museum or
for a chain of galleries or something like that?”

She sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I
can try to find a more fulfilling job somewhere else. And in the meantime, at
least I’m not working insane hours anymore. And I have some actual hobbies.”
She took in a deep breath of the salty ocean air and pounded her gloved fist on
her handle bar. “I can get my enjoyment out of life after five and on
weekends... right?”

“There you go. Let’s drink to
that.” They thudded their water bottles together and both threw back their
heads.

They finished eating in silence, except
for the sounds of smacking lips as they chewed the hard bars.

She tucked the wrapper in her
pocket and said, “Thanks for making me feel better.”

“Sure.” He smiled and gave her a
light punch on the arm. “And now I’m going to make you hurt, cuz I’m going to
beat your butt back home.” He readjusted his helmet, got back on the seat of
his bike and started rolling out onto the street.

“I’d like to see you try,” she
scoffed, jumped on her bike, and pulled out after him.

~~~

Later that afternoon, while she and
Kona napped, the phone rang.

Brian said he was worried about her
and wanted to check in. “I hope you don’t think I wasn’t very understanding
before. I know you must be really disappointed about the stock.”

“No, it’s OK. You were right. I’m
feeling better. I mean, it sucks, but I’ll get over it,” she said, hoping to
convince herself as well as him.

“I was thinking that what you need
is an accounting job at the museum, or something like that. I know we don’t
have any openings now, but if something comes up you’re certainly the first one
I’d think of.”

“That’s sweet. And I thought of
that too, but it’s probably not a great idea for us to work together. Anyway,
don’t worry about it. I’ll think of something.”

When she hung up, she lay back down
and patted Kona. She thought that maybe when you’re depressed it’s not
necessarily such a good idea to try to act like your dog. After all, they spend
a lot of time eating and sleeping—probably the two highest ranking activities
of any depressed person.

“Come on, Buddy. Let’s get up. Take
me for a walk.”

The weeks leading up to their Boston
trip alternated between creeping along and racing by. Time crept while Maggie
was at work, but had a tendency to move at the speed of light, the speed of
fun, on her days off and weekends.

Maggie tried settling into Plan B.
The “enjoy life outside of work” part of her Plan was going well. She went to
yoga and the gym with Helen, biked with Russell, took long walks with Kona in
the crisp fall air, and enjoyed the “finer things” with Brian. They went out
for meals at restaurants overlooking the ocean and drank expensive bottles of
red wine; he took her to another play and a jazz concert; they explored the
galleries in La Jolla and Del Mar. Sometimes they would “slum it,” as Brian
joked, and stay in with a movie (usually sub-titled) and a pizza, always
covered in something exotic; the last one they’d had was fig and prosciutto.
Maggie would have been happy with pepperoni, but she had to admit it had been
tasty.

The “just get through the day at
work” part of Plan B was tougher to take. Things were stressful at Clean N’
Green. Stephen had been negotiating with Wal-Mart to carry their products, but
the dealings hit a snag when a competitor came along with a cheaper line. The
retail chain had given Clean N’ Green a chance to rethink their pricing.
Stephen had her analyzing different strategies. He was feeling pressure, and
she was doing her best to not let him outsource too much of it to her. She went
in, did her work, and tried to leave at a reasonable hour. She told herself,
“It’ll be OK.” And she remembered what Mom always said whenever she’d
complained before heading to work at Orange Julius in high school: they don’t
call it “work” because it’s fun.

The last week before Thanksgiving
her phone hardly stopped ringing. Unfortunately, it was almost never her
realtor. She’d called once to assure Maggie things were only slow because of
the holidays and would pick up soon. No, instead, it was one family member after
another.

Kevin wanted to know where she and
Brian were staying. He called another day for her opinion on a wedding present
for Annie. Shay and Annie both called to discuss dresses. Shay called again
when she found a Smurf bride and groom cake topper on eBay. She knew Kevin
would get a kick out of it, but worried Annie would kill her for sending it to
him. (They decided she should go for it.) Mom called several times about the
Thanksgiving menu. She’d offered to cook at Kevin and Annie’s. Maggie tried to
convince Mom they should just go out, but Mom wouldn’t hear of it.

She also talked to Gram, who
confessed being unsure about bringing Humphrey. Although having her own qualms
about Brian, Maggie was surprised.

“Why?” she asked. “Everyone’s
looking forward to meeting him.”

“Oh, I know, sweetie. It’s just
such a big event for the family, and maybe it would be better to go on my own.
I don’t want to have to be worrying about whether Humphrey’s having a good
time.” Maggie wondered momentarily if this was Gram’s way of letting her know
she didn’t think it was a good idea to bring Brian, but realized Gram didn’t
operate that way. Mom, maybe; but not Gram. She must honestly be concerned.

“I’m guessing Humphrey’s probably
adept at taking care of himself, so you don’t need to worry about him every
minute. You can have some family time.” They were both silent for a moment.
“But, to be honest, I’ve been thinking the same thing and wondering if I should
un-invite Brian. I know that’d be rude, but—”

“No, no, no. I’m very much looking
forward to meeting your gentleman friend. Please bring him,” Gram said, her
voice perking up. “I want to... what is it you young people say? I want to
check him.”

“You mean check him
out
?” Maggie grinned.

“Oh, right; check him out. I thought
the other way sounded too much like a hockey game.”

“OK, I’m bringing him. And you can
check him out. But, if I’m not allowed to second-guess inviting my gentleman
friend, neither are you.”

~~~

Shay was right;
what was I worried about?
Maggie smiled as she sat at Thanksgiving
dinner with her family, her boyfriend, and Annie’s parents.

Earlier that afternoon, in the
final throes of dinner prep, Maggie and Shannon had finally had a moment alone
in the kitchen. Shannon had asked if Russell was always so funny; he’d had them
all laughing talking about his horrible flight, folded in his tiny seat like an
origami swan and trying to sleep on the aptly named red-eye that had brought
him to town that morning.

“Yes, he is always that funny,
although hopefully he’ll be serious during the wedding.” Maggie tasted the
potatoes Shannon had mashed. “But what about Brian? What do you think?”

“I like him,” Shannon had told her.
“He seems great, and, honestly, if you hadn’t told me how much younger he is, I
never would have guessed.”

Maggie realized now she’d blown
their age difference out of proportion. Brian had been right—their ages were
just numbers.
Kona wouldn’t have worried about it; I
shouldn’t have either
. She looked around the crowded table.
Everyone seems to really like him. And he looks so handsome
tonight. Of course, he ought to. He took longer getting ready than I did
.
Brian had spent forever ironing. He’d said he wanted to look his best for
meeting her family and wished he’d had room to pack his own iron, since the one
supplied by the hotel was “an abomination.”

Other than Brian fretting over the
sad state of the crease in his pants, the first twenty-four-plus hours of their
trip had gone very well. They’d landed on time Wednesday afternoon and gone out
for a relaxed dinner. Then today, she and Brian had taken her niece, Beth, and
nephew, James, out to play in the snow.

They’d bundled up and driven to a
spot Kevin had mapped out for them. Maggie, who had as much experience with
snow as she did with power tools, had enjoyed watching Brian help Beth and
James make perfect snowballs, which had precipitated a huge boys-versus-girls
war. Then the four of them built a snowman almost as tall as Maggie. They’d
brought along bananas and cinnamon cookies for a snack with a thermos of cocoa
and used one of the bananas for the snowman’s nose. Brian, always so mature,
never once tried to use the banana for
another
snowman appendage when the kids weren’t looking, but the idea had crossed
Maggie’s mind. When Beth asked Brian to make a snow angel for her, Maggie had
smiled watching him make a big show of flapping his arms and legs.
He’s so great with them
.

Now, at dinner, Maggie sat between
the kids. They’d both wanted to sit by her, which pleased her since she’d
worried they wouldn’t really remember her since their visit to San Diego last
year. Maggie struck a deal with Beth that as long as she tasted everything,
Maggie would smuggle any uneaten portions of whatever Beth didn’t like onto her
own plate when Shay wasn’t looking. Shay sat on the far side of James, and she
and Maggie took turns coaxing him to eat.

Maggie looked around the room, lit
by the glow of several tall white tapers. James declared it “mantic.” Shay
explained that any cause for lit candles was the definition of romantic for
James, for example calling his last birthday cake “very mantic.” Maggie agreed
with him.

The windows were fogged against the
cold night. She drank in the flushed faces, whether from the candlelight, the
wine, or the body warmth of fourteen people at a table designed for ten, she
didn’t know. It was a boisterous crowd that passed plates and ate
elbow-to-elbow. Mom talked to Annie’s parents about the weather and how she
hoped it would be a beautiful, brisk day on Saturday like it had been today. Russell
flirted with Gram, who blushed and batted his shoulder; Humphrey (who was
droopy and adorable as a basset, just like Gram had said) and Shay’s husband,
Michael, told fishing stories. Annie and Kevin whispered together, beautiful
and in love. And Brian oohed and aahed as Beth told him the plot synopsis of
The Little Mermaid
, including passages of dialog she knew
by heart. It was possible she would soon break into song.

Maggie turned back to James and
Shay, “I’ve missed you guys. I can’t believe I’m all alone on the West Coast
now.”

“You should move out here too,”
Shay said. “I know I’d love it if you were closer, and so would the kids.
James, please eat your green beans.”

“I love
The
Little Worm-maid
,” James said very seriously to Maggie, his mouth ringed
with sweet potatoes.

Maggie smiled. “I love her too,
James. Now listen to your mother and eat a bean.” She looked back at Shay and
said, “I don’t know if I could handle the cold weather here.”

“I know. I always thought of myself
as a Southern California girl, but now here I am; I’ve got a windshield
scraper, a snow blower, and more down in my wardrobe than a flock of geese.
But, it’s nice.” She shrugged. “Different, but nice. And there’s more to life
than great weather. Besides, I bet Kona would love the snow. James, please at
least
try
a bean.”

Maggie took advantage of the green
bean struggle to change the subject. She didn’t want to talk about moving, and
the reasons for or against it, while her boyfriend sat an arm’s length away,
probably trying to listen in over the second act of
Finding
Nemo
.

~~~

After the dishes were done, Brian
suggested a walk around the block. Everyone but Maggie opted to lie around the
living room moaning, so it was just the two of them.

“You were very cute with Beth. I
hope she wasn’t making you crazy, with that all-Disney, all-the-time talk.”

“No, not at all. I like kids. And I
adore your niece. She looks like a miniature version of you.” Brian squeezed
her arm tighter as they walked arm-in-arm, hunkered down in their coats. “Your
whole family is wonderful.”

Maggie peeked over the upturned
collar of her wool coat. “I’m glad you’re having fun.” She rubbed the end of
her nose with a mittened hand. “It’s freezing out here. Let’s go back.”

“Not until I do this,” he ducked
under the eave of a building they were passing, out of the pale orange glow of
the street lamps, and kissed her.

She pulled away after a moment.
“It’s too cold,” she protested. “Our lips will stick together. Let’s go back.
Besides, I want to call Helen and make sure Kona’s being good.”

“Wait, I want to tell you
something.”

“Tell me while we walk. My toes are
numb.” She tugged at him.

“No, wait. I want to—.” A muffled
Beethoven’s Fifth
came from under layers of pants pocket,
dinner jacket and overcoat. “Probably my mother,” he said. He yanked his glove
off with his teeth and fought through the layers to answer before it went to
voicemail. He motioned for her to go, and they started walking as he said
hello.

He stopped.

Maggie watched his expression
change. His eyebrows, raised in anticipation as he’d answered the phone, began
a slow slide down his forehead and did not stop until they were crouched
together over his eyes.