Chapter 11
Holidays had never really been much of anything for me. That was changing with this Thanksgiving.
“Twenty-six?” Anara repeated. “Twenty-six guests? How?”
“I’m not sure,” I answered. “We’ve never had more than six people over, and they weren’t here for dinner.” They had been the crew from the furniture store so I hadn’t been trying to feed them.
“And how many ovens do you have?” Heidi asked.
She had joined us via a video call, because she and George had already left for their new home in Kansas.
Anara had a nicer phone with a bigger screen than mine, and it was large enough to have a perfect view of our friend frowning.
“I think I remember that there’s only one in your kitchen. How, Rainey? How will this work?”
“We’re not really sure if that many people will come—hold on.” I cleared my throat and lowered my voice. “Maverick, no. Leave it.”
The dog looked at me and if he’d had shoulders like a human, he would have shrugged. He so clearly didn’t care about my deep voice or my authoritative tone, but he did drop the shoe from his mouth and he left the room. I watched him, suspicious.
“How’s the training going?” Heidi asked.
“Um, it’s ok.” I glanced at Anara as I spoke and watched her shake her head. “Please don’t give me an example of an animal species that does it better,” I told her.
“All animal species do it better than this,” she said. “He chews on everything in your house. You had that nice purse and now it’s practically ruined.”
I had loved that purse. I had gotten it for myself because I really needed one, now that I had an official wallet with an ID and a debit card.
I had lipstick to carry around and a phone, and I was going to meetings with people in which I tried to convince them that I knew how to dress well.
So, I had gotten myself a bag, which wasn’t very expensive compared to the leather goods that Damian and Millie had bought, but it was a lot for me.
And briefly, yes—it had been a toy for Maverick.
He hadn’t meant to do it, I told Anara, and I had been able to fix some of the damage.
“It’s not entirely his fault. I hadn’t provided enough real toys for him,” I explained.
My aunt’s dog never had any and I hadn’t understood how much pets seemed to need them.
I had found out that chewy stuff for Maverick was like giving books to kids.
It wasn’t absolutely necessary, because the world would keep turning around the sun without any of that—but it was better for them.
I turned when I heard clattering, and found him dragging his water dish across the floor. It was one of the things he liked to do but I didn’t enjoy it. I didn’t want to leave him thirsty but if I put any liquid in there, the next minute? It was everywhere. “No, Maverick! Leave it.”
He and the bowl continued into the living room as he went to find something else to mess up.
“He does better with Callum,” I said. “He listens really well.”
“Callum is hardly ever here,” Anara pointed out.
She was right about that. It was why I had suggested hosting a post-Thanksgiving dinner for him and his fellow rookies at our condo, so that they could have a little rest and fun.
Except, having twenty-six people in our condo (the players and all their family members) wasn’t sounding like rest and fun.
If I was right about the square footage here, and I was pretty sure that I was, then everyone would only be able to stand and usually, people liked to sit to eat things like turkey and mashed potatoes.
They would be in the living room and kitchen, where there was only one oven and it was slightly smaller than others I’d used in the past. It didn’t fit a cookie sheet, which I had learned when I’d tried to bake a treat for Callum.
The guests probably wouldn’t want to hang out in the bathroom, perched on the toilet or the edge of the tub (although that room was nice and spacious).
“Let’s go for a walk,” Anara suggested. She was frowning at the dog. “Heidi, we’ll talk to you later.”
It was hard to have a good discussion when one person was on a screen, but it had been especially tough because Maverick kept barking whenever our neighbor played his cornet.
I said goodbye and agreed to go out, but I wasn’t thrilled about how Anara was acting.
Like, she grabbed the leash, told the dog to sit so she could click it onto his collar, and then kept him moving right at her side—her side, not mine.
“I’ll take him,” I said, and she didn’t argue with me. But the minute I had the leash in my hand, Maverick started pulling to go faster, yanking on my arm. “Stop. Slow. No!” I said, but none of that worked. “Why are you doing this?”
He didn’t answer, but she did. “He knows you’re afraid of him.”
“Like he’s psychic? Please,” I answered. My shoulder hurt and I didn’t want to hear about animal behavior right now, even if she might have been correct.
“He can tell, although you try to hide it,” she insisted.
She started talking about stress hormones released in sweat, but I was working on dragging the dog out of a bush and didn’t really listen.
My takeaway was that I was a bad pet owner and also, that Heidi had been the glue holding together our friendship of three.
Now that she and George had moved away, Anara and I were disconnected.
I had invited her over partly out of habit, but mostly because she seemed so interested in Maverick.
But now, that interest was annoying me.
“I’m not afraid of him,” I said. “I’m not afraid of dogs.”
“Rainey, you are. It’s obvious.”
“I’m not—ow!” He had yanked really hard, and Anara grabbed me so I didn’t fall down.
“Can I try?” she asked. I allowed it because my entire arm hurt down to my fingertips, and the dog immediately started walking calmly at her side, his tail wagging. Shoot.
“How do you get him to do that?” I asked. “Can he really tell that I don’t like him?”
“You don’t? He’s so sweet,” she informed me. She reached down and scratched behind his ears and his tail wagged even harder.
“He doesn’t like me, either. I thought that he did when I went to see him at the animal shelter, but now I know that he would have taken any attention. It was pretty grim there.” I sighed. “I felt sorry for him and I thought it wasn’t fair. His previous owner left him without a backwards glance.”
“Humans feel terrible when they’re abandoned,” she mentioned. “I know because that happened to me. But I don’t believe that Maverick would have reacted the same way. A canine—”
“What do you mean?” I interrupted. “You’re not talking about Demitrious, are you?”
Of course not, because Demitrious was perfect.
She explained that her mom had walked out on their family, leaving her with a dad who didn’t seem to care much about her either.
“He liked to work and if I wasn’t helping him, then he didn’t want me around.
He was very happy when I went off to college,” she said.
“I didn’t care so much about parents by that point in my life, since I was older and ready for separation, but I did care when my mom left.
I perfectly remember the day it happened.
She came to my bedroom door with a big rolling bag and said, ‘Sorry, I need to find a better place.’ The bag wasn’t zipped all the way because she was in such a hurry to go. ”
“What was ‘a better place?’ A new house? A different job? What did that mean?” I wondered.
“She meant that she wanted to find a better version of everything, including a husband and kids. She did get remarried and I have half-siblings, but they won’t be coming to my wedding since I’ve never met them.
My mom won’t be there either because we don’t talk, and my dad will decline the invitation because he can’t leave his apartment.
Demitrious has a big family and I love them, so it’s like I’m getting a replacement. ”
“That’s so lucky,” I said.
“I’m only telling you this so that you understand how human emotions are different from those of animals. If you don’t want to take care of this dog, then I could help you try to find someone else and he really wouldn’t mind. I don’t see much of a bond between you yet.”
“I’m not doing that,” I told her, angry again.
“You shouldn’t make yourself unhappy, though.”
“Why not?” I snapped back. Then I made myself calm and masked my emotions. “I mean, he’s my responsibility now and I wouldn’t—”
“I don’t understand your attitude,” she interrupted. She frowned, like I was annoying her with it. “I always feel like I’ve had enough sadness in my life. If I can get the chance to be happy, I’ll take it.”
We kept walking into a sharp November wind, and Maverick stayed peacefully at her side.
“I understand that way of thinking,” I said.
“I lived that way for a few years. Everyone in the house went after happiness at all the time, in any way we could get it.” Damian’s life had centered around instant gratification, through drugs, expensive purchases, or orgasms. “I don’t want quick fixes anymore. ”
“Are you talking about carnality? Hedonism? That’s not what I meant,” she said. “I’m thinking about the whole arc of my life and trying to make it the best I can for everyone, me and the people I love.”
“That’s what I’m doing now, too,” I told her.
That was why I wasn’t going to give up on Maverick.
I was going to be the kind of person that a dog could depend on.
I was also going to stop being scared of him.
I remembered Anara talking about horses and how they had evolved not to show pain, and how guinea pigs wouldn’t show fear.
They were prey animals and they couldn’t give the predators that advantage.
They had to be so careful, because look what had happened with the sheep and my aunt’s dog.