CHAPTER 65
DAKOTA
I have a date.
Well, kinda. Basically I’m going to go elsewhere with Murr tonight so we can have privacy. I want to be alone with him, and alone doesn’t involve my daughter, two nosy old ladies, and more cats and puppies than I can count. But first I have to break this news to the others.
It’s also a good day for a thorough wash.
Since we’re living in a bookstore, our daily bathing consists of a sink, wet cloths, and hasty, furtive scrubbing with a wash towel.
We have an inflatable kiddie pool that we pull out about once a week and fill up to use as a legit bath, and that’s also the day we do hair washing.
Rabbit’s hair is a different texture than mine, and we can’t wash it more often anyhow.
It’s a bonding day for her and me, as we sit in the dark bathroom with candles all around us, taking turns in the pool.
I’ve heated a bucket of water and pour it in for her so she’s not bathing in chilled water, and then I soap up her thick hair for her.
Since hair takes a lot longer, she’s sitting in the water in a swimsuit, and once we’ve changed the water out, she’ll take a real bath.
“Your mother’s going on an overnight trip tonight,” I say casually, a towel wrapped around my now-clean-and-drying hair.
I carefully massage a dried chunk of shampoo into her hair, wetting it until it starts to lather.
At some point we’ll have to figure out how to make our own soaps, but for now, we make do.
“Wife business?” she asks, teasing me.
“Husband and wife business, but yes.”
“I’m not calling him dad, just for the record.” She leans forward, hugging her knees so I can work the lather deeper into her hair. “That’d be weird.”
“God, no. Call him Murr, or Murtades. Whatever you’re comfortable with.”
“Murr it is.” She turns her head slightly, looking back at me. “I’m just glad you found someone, Mom. You deserve to be happy.”
There’s a big knot in my throat at that. “Thanks, honey.”
Her words make me think. Am I happy? I’ve never been un-happy.
I just never quantify things like that. Day to day is about survival, making sure my kid is fed and we’re safe.
Happy (or otherwise) never played into things.
But with Murr around, everything is a little bit easier.
We can relax. It’s not just the meat he provides.
It’s his company, too. I like his warm, friendly presence.
I like that he’s full of smiles and affection for both the cats and humans.
I like that when he eyes me, I’m not just another mouth to feed. I feel like a person again.
More than that, I feel like a woman again. I’m not just a mom.
But I am definitely not telling my daughter that.
A knock bangs on the door. “I’m comin’ in,” Aggie hollers through the door. “Everyone get decent!”
“We’re dressed,” I call back, my hands still buried in Rabbit’s hair. I’m a bit peeved that we can’t get ten minutes alone to have a mother-daughter talk, but I know Aggie means well.
Aggie pushes inside, and she’s got a towel on her shoulders and she’s not wearing one of her customary wigs. “I heard we were washing hair in here. I want my turn.”
I ease my hands out of Rabbit’s hair and swipe them through the water to get rid of the suds.
There’s a folding metal chair in the bathroom as this doubles as our tornado shelter when the weather gets too nasty, and I unfold it and set it next to the pool.
“I can do your hair, too, but you’ll have to wait. I’m working on Rabbit’s.”
“Mine won’t take long,” Aggie reassures me. “I’ve only got three hairs left.”
“Those three hairs can still wait,” I grump, returning to my daughter’s mane.
Rabbit grins at Aggie, not bothered by the other woman’s presence in the slightest. “Mom was just telling me she’s having date night tonight with Murr. They’re married now.”
Oh god. I mentally steel myself for Aggie to make some nasty joke.
“’Bout time,” is all Aggie says. “Dottie’s got a present for you. She’s feeling kinda under today. Doesn’t feel like washing her hair. Make sure you see her before you head off.”
Under? That’s not a good sign. I worry about anyone that doesn’t feel well, given that we don’t have doctors or medicine, and Dottie is elderly. “Is she okay?”
“She’s old. We’re both old,” Aggie says sharply. “Let her nap and she’ll manage. She doesn’t need her hand held, just some shut eye. Now, where are you heading on this date night of yours?”
That’s a quick change of topic. “I don’t know just yet.”
“Can you head by a baby store?”
I blink at the strange request. “I don’t know… why?”
“We need onesies for the puppies. Maybe some little bonnets. You’ll want to get preemie-sized clothes for them. We’re going to need seven different colors so we can tell them apart.”
Of all the impractical things… “You want to dress them up like babies?”
“It’s cold out here,” Aggie says, as if dressing a newborn dog in clothing makes total sense. “And they are my babies, just like Stella is. I’m pretty sure Doc looks just like me, too. He’s got my nose.”
“You’re insane,” Rabbit giggles.
“Duh,” is all Aggie says. “Have to be to survive this long. Now, tell me more about this date night.”
That is one thing I’m not going to do. “Actually, let me rinse Rabbit’s hair and put some conditioner on it, and we’ll get you started, too.”