What the Dog Ate (37 page)

~~~

Shay and the kids arrived late
Monday afternoon to take over nursing duties, and Maggie and Kona flew out the
next morning. She’d thought about leaving him there. She hated to make him get
on a plane again, but Shannon was going to have her hands full enough with Mom
and the kids. And besides, Maggie was a little nervous about driving
cross-country by herself. She wanted to have her furry friend and guardian
there with her. He’d be good company; help her feel safe. So, when she’d mapped
out their route back, which she figured would take four days, she’d been sure
to look up dog-friendly motel chains along the way.

The long flight back was a
variation on her flight home from Boston, only now the things she was leaving
behind had switched places with the things she was happy about returning to.
After the move she’d be back near her family again. Selling the house, the
divorce, accounting—it was all going to be behind her. She was excited, nervous
but excited, about her new career and fresh start in Jacksonville. But then she
thought about Helen and Russell. She was going to miss them so much. Miss how
they always made her feel better; made her laugh. She thought about how she’d
been so lonely and depressed before she met them both.

They’ve been so
supportive of me. Especially Russell. Helping me with the house. And always
telling me how smart I am; how I could be successful at anything
. She
smiled and looked out the window as the fun times they’d spent together
replayed in her mind. She saw him primping on their bike rides; showing off the
single time he beat her up the hill; belting out show tunes in her back yard
while he worked on her fence. She thought about the huge smile that would
spread over his face every time he saw her—it was almost as good as one of
Kona’s welcome-homes. She thought about how Russell could always make her
laugh. She realized now that the day she’d found out her BioHealth stocks
weren’t going to be worth much, he was the one who’d made her feel better.
My own boyfriend made me feel worse, telling me I was in good
company with all the other job-haters. Russell was first at trying to help me
come up with a constructive plan. He’s really very sweet... And setting me up
with Mark. That was pretty sweet too—even if the guy was a complete and total
jerk. I’m still not sure what Russell was thinking, trying to fix me up with
that loser, but... he
thought
he was doing a nice
thing
. She thought back to that night again. Her hand went to her hair.
God, he made me feel so self conscious about putting my hair up.
But then, he did tell me I have “really beautiful” hair. That was nice to hear...
God, I’m going to miss him
.

She drifted off to sleep. She
dreamt Russell was washing her hair. It started out very tender, even though he
was washing it in the big red plastic tub she used to wash Kona in the
backyard. When he was done, her hair was instantly dry. She thanked him with a
quick hug, but said she had to run. “Wait,” he said. He reached up and ran his
hand through her hair. She thought he was going to pull her close and kiss her;
she longed for it. But then, a pair of scissors flashed in his other hand and
he cut the handful of her hair off. He looked at the locks in his hand while
she burst into tears. She woke with a start as the plane bounced off a patch of
rough air.

The pilot announced that everyone
should be sure their seatbelts were fastened as the turbulence was going to be
bad on their approach to San Diego. She felt unnerved by the bizarre dream and
sick to her stomach from the jostling. She didn’t have a chance to spend any
more time pondering how much she was going to miss Russell, how much he meant
to her. She was too busy clutching the armrests and holding the plane up for
the rest of the flight.

~~~

Back in San Diego, the week was
non-stop: working out details with Dave, the lawyers, the realtor; figuring out
what would stay in the house and what would come with her; arranging for
shipping for her bikes, books, artwork, dishes, all the things that wouldn’t
fit in the car. Each night Maggie collapsed into bed, where Kona already waited
sound asleep. Normally one to toss and turn while obsessing over to-do lists
and second guessing her decisions, Maggie felt oddly calm. She chalked it up to
sheer exhaustion—that and an innate sense that she must be doing the right
thing; there was no need, no time for second thoughts. She slept dreamlessly,
often waking up hours later, still splayed in the same position.

At the end of a long Saturday
filled with sorting, packing, labeling and throwing things out, she met Helen
and Russell for dinner at Alfonso’s in La Jolla; the spot where the pros had
given her their tips for dating all those months before.

As usual, Helen was late, but
Russell was there, waiting. When he saw her walk in, he gave her a sad smile.
It was nothing like that first beaming grin he’d given her that day they met at
Bandito’s, nothing like his usual smile. He stood up and greeted her with a
warm hug. A very warm hug. A border-line searing hug. The thoughts she’d
started thinking on the plane came back to her in a flash; the thoughts of how
much she would miss him, of what he meant to her. She realized at the scent of
him, the scratch of his shirt on her cheek, the heat of his strong back under
her hands, that she was in love with him.
No... In love?
Can that be possible? Does he... make my tail wag?

Yes. Holy crap;
yes
.

She was aware of the deafening beat
of her heart. It sounded like her ribs were playing hacky sack with it. She
thought he must hear it too.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving
us,” he said into the top of her head.

She swallowed, hard. “I—” was all
she could manage to say.

“
Amiga!
”
Helen came through the door. Russell released Maggie and she hugged Helen.
After the hug with Russell, Helen’s cheek felt cool on hers.

Maggie felt for her chair while
Helen and Russell peppered her with questions. They lapsed into silence and
studied their menus. Maggie couldn’t read any of it. She kept glancing up over
the list of specials, to look at Russell, concentrating on his menu, laid flat
on the table before him. She looked at the deep crinkles around his eyes; the
bits of gray in his brown hair; the spot where the collar of his shirt lay open
against his tan neck.

How long has
this been going on?
she grilled herself.
When did he
start making my tail wag? Was it that kiss in his condo?... No... it was before
that even. Maybe the first time he showed up on my doorstep with his toolbox.
But, back then, I was still the walking-wounded. No way was I ready for a
relationship
.

When she finally
was
ready to date again, he’d already met Natalia, and by
the time they broke up, Maggie was with Brian. Besides, she’d convinced herself
that Russell wasn’t interested in being in love—maybe wasn’t even capable. But,
in Boston, when he’d told her his story, she realized he
was
capable; he was just leery of opening up again. Like a dog whose tail had been
slammed in the door, he wasn’t planning on going through that door again if he
could help it. She pictured him bubble-wrapping his heart and storing it in a
lockbox he’d built himself.

And just as she’d realized that day
on Mom’s couch, that she hadn’t given herself enough time to think about her
career, she realized, now, as he argued the merits of burritos versus soft
tacos with Helen, that she hadn’t had time to consider her
feelings
either.

She managed to get through dinner;
she wasn’t sure how. Helen and Russell both commented that she must be jet
lagged, tired, from everything—taking care of her mom, getting ready to move,
but, really she was just distracted. She couldn’t focus.

She kept thinking:
How’s
this
going to fit into my plan?
He lives in
San Diego
.
And I’m about to move two thousand miles away
. She told herself she
couldn’t just calmly say, “Gosh, it occurs to me that I’m in love with you.
Now, please move across the country with me.” That was a lot for a person to
absorb. And she didn’t want to risk losing their friendship. He was her best
two-legged, non-furry, male friend.

She lay awake all night, trying to
think of what she should do, what she could say. In the wee hours of the night,
when all ideas seem like good ones, she’d decided to try hinting at her
feelings. She could gauge his reaction. She reasoned that if she glimpsed any
sign of his tail wagging back at her, then full steam ahead: she’d go for it;
tell him she thought she might be in love with him. But, if he ignored her cue,
well, then... it would be best to keep her mouth shut.

She knew she wouldn’t see him that
week though. She’d been hoping they’d go on one last bike ride that Sunday, her
last ride in San Diego, but he couldn’t make it. He told her he had to fly out
Sunday for three days of meetings with customers in Oregon. But he said he’d be
back late Wednesday and they’d see each other Thursday night for her going away
dinner.

She told him he better not miss it.
Because the next day, first thing Friday morning, the twenty-first of December,
Maggie planned to load her dog into her Honda and they’d be off. With a four
day drive, that would put her back at Mom’s on Christmas Eve. Shannon’s
husband, Michael, would be there by then, and so would Kevin and Annie. They’d
all be together for Christmas for the first time in years. It was something to
look forward to, at least, while she worried about driving off with her heart
still sitting on the curb in San Diego.

~~~

At her going away dinner, Maggie
cried when Helen, Raul and Russell toasted her and wished her success in Jacksonville.
They all lingered over their meal, over the wine, over dessert. No one wanted
to be the first to say goodbye. But finally, Maggie said she had to get up
early the next day to get on the road. Besides, she needed her chance to talk
to Russell. She’d dropped her car at his condo and ridden along with him to Il Fornaio
in Del Mar where they’d met up with Helen and Raul. That way she knew she’d be
alone with him when they went back for her car.

She cried again as she hugged Helen
goodbye on the street in front of the restaurant. Others walking by stared at
the women sniffling into each others’ hair and swearing they’d visit.

She was silent in the car on the
way home with Russell. The goodbye with Helen had worn her out. She wondered
how she’d get through the next one. But, she hoped, it wouldn’t
be
a goodbye. She hoped she’d drop her hint, and he’d pick
it up and hand it back to her. They’d hug, kiss, laugh, then make love. They’d
talk for hours about how their long distance romance was going to work until he
could be with her in Florida. She’d still have to drive off in the morning,
counting on Kona and coffee to keep her awake, but their goodbye would be a
“see you soon.”

At least, that was the way she’d
imagined it last night. And again this morning. And now, as they pulled into
his parking garage. Of course, in between each imagined scene of the tender
revelation of their mutual feelings, she’d think,
Is this
crazy? Am
I
crazy? Is this all too sudden?
As
soon as she’d tell herself it was indeed all too sudden, she’d realize, no, it
felt right. She thought it again as they got out of the car:
Yes, this is insane. Kinda. But it’s still
right
. It’s all happening crazy-fast, but I want to be with him. I
can’t help it. And I need to let him know. I can’t leave town without knowing
what he’s thinking
.

“Do you want to come up for some
tea?” Russell asked. “I’ve got decaf. I know you probably don’t want to drink
anything more, since you have to get up early. Anyway, you have to come up,
because I have a little Christmas present for you.”

“A present? You didn’t have to do
that.”
Shoot, why didn’t I think to get him something. But,
if all goes well, maybe
I’ll
be his present...
She blushed at the thought and looked down to hide her red cheeks behind her
hair.

Upstairs he handed her a shiny
silver and gold gift bag. She held it up to her ear and shook it. It weighed
very little and she asked for a hint, but he said there’d be no hints, no
peeking, and no opening it until Christmas.

They talked over their orange spice
tea. He asked her the same questions she’d already answered about the drive and
where she planned to stop along the way.

As she came to the bottom of her
teacup, she worked up her courage. She readied her hint. Pulled it out in her
mind and practiced it, polished it one last time; her hint, which she thought
had all the subtlety of a granite boulder.

“I feel like Dorothy in the
Wizard of Oz
, saying goodbye to the Scarecrow,” she said.
“She told him she was going to miss him the most of all.”

This was not the sum total of her
hint. She assumed he would have seen the movie and therefore know that Dorothy
and the Scarecrow shared a platonic love. (
They were just
friends, right?
she’d wondered the night before.
Could
there have been a roll in the hay? Hmmm, with a man
made
of hay? No, that seems unlikely, if not downright physically
impossible
.) So she’d added an extra clue, which she thought showed that
she was
not
taking the role of Dorothy, eternal
platonic friend.

She reached for her pendant. “I’ve
always had a wicked, no, uh, no pun intended, crush on the Scarecrow.” She
threw in the “no pun” business at the last minute, just in case, to keep the
mood light.