9. Lucy
9
LUCY
T his is heaven.
The last time I got a pedicure, I was a teenager living at home with my parents.
Mom took me to a nail salon, aiming for mother-daughter bonding. It was tickly and a little embarrassing, my pants rolled up, my ugly feet exposed.
I’ve learned to love my pudgy, short toes and wide instep. My feet are good to me, taking me where I need to go. I’ve even traversed one of the biggest cities in the world, my tough, calloused soles never giving me any trouble.
Janet, the manicurist, consulted with me about how much of my well-toughened hide to remove. Apparently, they have booties full of treatment that will peel off layers of skin.
I said, “None.”
And she’d understood, growing up on a farm herself, the value of tough feet.
But I got a good sudsy soak, warm paraffin treatment, and pretty pink polish. When she sits back, I lift my legs to admire them. My skin glows, and my nails sparkle. “I love it!” I tell her.
Kaliyah from the front desk comes in to check on us. “You’re all done!” she says. “Simone and Matilda have settled in for a nap. You might have to wake them.”
“Poor dears,” I say. “Matilda didn’t like the subway at all.”
“The subway!” Kaliyah shakes her head, sending her dangly earrings to swinging. “We have to fetch our truck to move Simone around.”
“Nobody bothered us, not really. But Court requested an Uber Pet for tonight. Do you think they’ll take Matilda? The first driver took off.”
“It’s risky. We’ll cross our fingers for you.” She helps Janet put away her supplies. “I talked to our owner, Monique, about Matilda.”
“What about her?” I set my feet on the floor, and the smooth coolness of the tiles feels like a brand-new connection with the earth.
“Since Simone isn’t producing, Monique was wondering if you were selling milk, or maybe your soap. She’d like to talk about your ingredients.”
“I’d be happy to.”
“Here’s her card. She did say she’d like to make an offer on the milk you have on you, if you have some to spare. She loves making cheese, and store supplies are always a few days old or more.”
“I’d be happy to sell it to her. Did she have a price?”
“I’m authorized to negotiate that with you.”
Kaliyah leads me down a hall to a breakroom. “Court gave them to me to put in the fridge. I unpacked seven bottles. That’s probably close to a hundred ounces.”
“Yes, she produced quite a lot today since she was delayed.”
Kaliyah opens the fridge to reveal the bottles. “Those are glass lined?”
“They are. I washed them with goat soap.”
She reaches in and pulls one out, unscrewing the top. “May I take a sniff?”
“Absolutely.”
Her eyes close dreamily as she takes it in. “This is perfect.”
Janet leans in the door. “Her friend is back.”
I reach out to Kaliyah. “It would mean a lot to me if I could pay for the pedicure with the milk and not have Court cover it. Is there a way we can barter? I can bring more milk if I need to cover the rest.”
She nods. “How about we exchange it for the pedicure, including a cash tip for Janet? And you’ll talk to Monique about providing more and negotiate a going rate? Maybe weekly?”
“Yes!” I’m giddy that I’ve already found a way to make a little money here. I know Court is covering my room at the goat farm, but this way, I can pay for Matilda’s feed and food for myself. Maybe I can grow a few things on the farm or work on it and keep some vegetables.
“Perfect.” Kaliyah opens a cabinet and pulls out a pair of glass pitchers with lids. “Let’s empty your cups.”
We quickly transfer the milk to pitchers and rinse out Court’s bottles.
Kaliyah repacks them into the coolers, other than the one filled with my leftover food. “This is a great way to transport them.”
It is. I’ll have to ask Court if it’s okay to keep these.
“Thank you so much.” I impulsively give Kaliyah a hug, taking in the rich coconut and sage scent of her.
“I’ll see you again when we get more milk.”
“Yes!”
We head back to the waiting room. Court sits on a chair, a bag tucked between his knees. He stands and pulls out his wallet.
The sudden movement startles the goats, which sets the dogs to barking. The cats scurry out of the room, which causes Matilda to rear back.
She spots Court and runs toward him, head down. Simone is apparently on her side, because she’s close behind.
“Matilda!” I call, but I’m too late. She rams Court’s knees, knocking him back into the chair. Then Simone gives a second shot.
“Ladies!” Kaliyah calls. “Calm yourselves.”
The two of us pull the goats away from Court, whose glare is murderous.
“I’m so sorry,” Kaliyah says. “These two had their minds made up.”
“I’m getting used to it.” Court brushes goat hair off his knees. He opens his wallet.
Kaliyah raises her palms. “Lucy and I worked out a deal for her goat’s milk. Her services are all covered.”
“Oh. But I offered triple.”
She sits at her desk. “We’re all good here. Feel free to wait for your ride. We’re open another hour.”
“Thank you.” I sit next to Court with the coolers in my lap. “I sold all the milk.”
“That’s great.” He pushes the paper bag toward me with his shiny shoe, eyes on the goats. They’re standing stock-still, staring at him. “I bought a few things you might need.”
We trade bags, and I lift the fuzzy socks out of his. “How adorable. Kaliyah, look!”
“I love them,” she says, her smiling eyes moving from the socks to Court.
“And the shirt!” I lift it and hold it over my chest. “My other dog is a goat!”
Then there’s a pretty yellow dress. “Court! You shouldn’t have!”
“Ladies need to be spoiled,” Kaliyah says.
Oh, she has no idea what Court is really like. I can tell by her pleased expression that she thinks we’re a happy couple, even if my goat hates him.
At the bottom is a shoebox. I’m hoping he didn’t get the leather Birkenstocks. I worried about this as I got my pedicure, convincing myself it would be okay. I would thank the cow for her sacrifice and wear them, anyway.
But he’s gotten the microfiber ones, in a style I haven’t seen before. “They’re so cute!” I slide my toe through the loop. “I can go dancing in these!”
I stand to show them off, tilting my feet and posing.
Matilda breaks her stare to turn to me.
“Look, Matilda!”
Matilda sniffs at my toes with their smell of products and new shoes.
I want to give Court a happy hug, but he’s busily staring at his phone.
“Court?”
He looks up.
“Would it be okay if I hung onto the coolers and bottles for a while? They’ll be great for transporting the milk until I can get a better solution.”
“Sure. It’s just merch.”
“Okay.”
He’s already on his phone again.
“And, Court?”
He looks up.
“Thank you for the gifts and the shoes. They’re the nicest things I’ve had in a while.”
He grunts.
We’re back to that. It’s fine.
His phone buzzes. He frowns. “The ride’s here. We’ll see how it goes.”
“Good luck,” Kaliyah says. “If you need to wait on another one, or make other arrangements, feel free to return.”
“You’ve been so lovely,” I tell her.
I shoulder my knapsack but let Court take the shopping bag and coolers. When Matilda’s leash is securely in my hand, we head for the door.
This ride is a minivan.
Court leads me to the back door. “Just jump in and say nothing, like it’s perfectly normal to have a goat.”
I nod.
He slides the panel. “Hello,” he says to the driver, a heavyset man poking at the phone mounted to his dash.
“You Court?”
“I am.”
I duck down behind Court to climb in. There are three rows, and the second-row seat is folded down, so I move to the very back and tug Matilda in behind me.
If she doesn’t make any sounds, he might not notice she’s a goat.
“Long ride,” Court says. He returns the lowered seat to its place and sits in the middle row to block the driver’s view of the back of the van.
The man looks up. “It’ll take over an hour to get there.”
“I’ll be riding back to the city,” Court says.
“Looks like my evening is set, then.” He seems pleased.
Court closes the door, and I quietly feed Matilda bits of grain as we pull into traffic. If she stays quiet, we’ll make it.
We’re only a few minutes into the ride when I feel terribly sleepy.
It’s been a long day since I got on the subway in Queens.
Matilda licks my hand until she’s sure she’s gotten every grain.
Then I rest one hand on my belly and the other on Matilda. I have leftovers to eat tomorrow. A goat farm to live on. A way to make a little money.
All is well in my world.
And I can’t stay awake a minute more…