17. Abbot
ABBOT
The address Claire gives him is in an entirely new part of the city Abbot’s never been to, but he finds it, and even better: parking. She meets him in the vet practice lobby with a pat on the head for Baxter and a smile for him.
“Right back here,” she says, motioning him past the reception desk and into an exam room. “Listen, I told Ned on the phone, I can see Baxter now on my lunch break, but I do have to charge for the lab work.”
“Ned appreciates you getting him in so quickly.”
“Ulterior motive.” Claire shuts the door behind them. “I’m going to ask you overly personal questions about Pat while I’ve got you here.”
“Oh?”
“Sorry,” she says with a grin and motions Baxter up on the scale.
He goes in exchange for the treat she holds out, standing on the platform as she notes his weight.
Abbot has no idea if it’s a good measurement or not—Baxter has always been heavy enough that Ned complains when he has to lift him down from the bed for being a stubborn asshole, as Ned grumbles.
Light enough that when Baxter sprawls across them on the couch, he’s a warm comfort.
Privately, Abbot has long thought the discrepancy in rules about being allowed on the couch to watch baseball, but not to nap on it unsupervised, or not permitted on the bed at all except for when he is, is rather too nuanced for a dog who once got his head stuck in a paper bag because it formerly contained a danish.
Though it’s Ned’s dog. And Ned’s bed and his couch here in Boston, and Ned never invites Baxter up onto Abbot’s sofa in his house in Portland. So what does the inconsistency matter, if Ned and Baxter aren’t bothered by it, since it doesn’t really involve Abbot at all?
Five years. Will Baxter still even be here then?
His phone buzzes as Claire opens Baxter’s mouth and peers at his teeth. Have you heard anything from Beverly? Ned’s asked.
Abbot checks his email and writes back, No, have you? as Claire presses a stethoscope to Baxter’s sides.
No, but she’d follow up with you, wouldn’t she? Not me?
Abbot isn’t sure she’s going to follow up a day after meeting with them to begin with, let alone hours after they had a truly uncomfortable conversation with her wife.
Are you going to call her? Ned sends before Abbot can sort through how he might say that, or whether to.
Call Beverly? Again?
He pockets his phone as Claire straightens. He doesn’t want to be rude as she does this favor for Ned, absorbed with his phone and unfriendly. “How is he?” he asks.
“I’m glad you brought him in,” Claire says. “Having an accident suddenly can definitely be a bad sign. But let’s hope it’s a UTI. Pat said you guys met with a Realtor this morning?”
“Is this the first of your questions?”
“Just warming you up with small talk,” Claire says. “But how did it go? Because I’m still couch surfing at my sister’s and if I stay there much longer, she’ll give me a weekly quota of wedding decorations to make, so I’m going to have to finally start apartment-hunting in earnest.”
“It was fine.” Better if either he or Ned had known what they were looking for. Or if that was at all the same thing.
What exactly does Ned mean, he can’t move? Do his parents need him? Abbot can’t see how, so it has to be that he simply won’t. The thought stings as it has every time Abbot’s returned to it. Ned very much could move into a place Abbot gets for them. He just doesn’t want to.
Will he someday? Five years, Abbot thinks again, a time so achingly far away it’s nearly impossible to picture. Or a couple, maybe, if he were to put any stock in that hope.
Yes. Meeting with the Realtor was fine. Just utterly fine.
Which wasn’t a particularly friendly answer to give to Claire.
“Thank you for seeing Baxter over your lunch,” he offers. “I hope we aren’t interrupting your meal.”
“Oh, no worries. I’ve been feeling a bit off, so I wasn’t going to sit down and eat.”
“Are you alright?”
“Something I ate last night, I’m sure. I don’t think I’m contagious.”
“No, no, I’m not worried,” Abbot says quickly. “And besides, with Peggy, we’re already fully exposed to anything circulating in the greater Boston area.”
“That’s Ned’s kid? She’s cute. Pat showed me some pictures. And you have a sister, is that right?”
“Liesl. She’ll be here next week.”
“Any more Sprüngli coming with her?” Claire grins. “Not that I know Pat didn’t manage to get that himself.”
“I don’t have any idea what you mean,” Abbot says.
She laughs. “So. Baxter. What’s been going on with him? This has been happening for a while? Pat told me he’s not as shiny as he normally is.”
“I’m honestly not sure. He is a bit less put-together these days, perhaps. He has to go out more often at night.”
“Hmm.” Claire runs her hands over Baxter’s sides, then under his stomach as Baxter tries to lick her chin.
“It could be normal aging, but could also be an issue with the kidneys or thyroid. We’ll run some basic bloodwork, along with the urine, and see what that tells us.
Mind if I take him to the back for a minute? ”
“Go ahead,” Abbot says and hands Claire the leash.
“C’mon, big guy,” Claire says, and Baxter resists until she pulls another treat out, and then follows her happily through the door.
When he gets back, he sniffs Abbot’s hands and pockets as if expecting an equal reward for traversing the door in both directions, but the best Abbot can offer is a scratch behind the ears.
“He was great,” Claire says. “And we’ll get those results back soon. In the meantime, stay up with his hydration, though if you want to take his bowl away in the evening, just to get some peace and quiet overnight, it should be fine. And now: payment.”
Abbot reaches for his wallet. “I can—”
“Oh, they’ll take your card up front. No. Pat. Well, Pat and Ned, let’s start there. Two peas in a pod, aren’t they?”
“They’re very close.”
“I definitely get the sense Pat would not be seeing me without Ned’s approval. Did you get a similar shakedown when you two started dating?”
Pat clearly hasn’t told her how he and Ned got together, which is fine with Abbot.
The longer that story stays under wraps, the better, if he has any hope of this woman thinking him at all normal.
Though perhaps that’s Pat’s prerogative to begin with: how could Pat explain his enthusiasm for pushing Ned and Abbot to pretend to date, while still coming off as someone Claire would be interested in?
The entire story is absurd. Unbelievable. Preposterous, even.
Which is why he and Ned likely shouldn’t be engaged in another round of deceit regarding looking at houses. Especially if they can’t agree on what their own truth actually is.
“Of a sort,” he finally says.
“You and Ned have been together a year?”
“Since last fall.”
“Pat wants us to be friends. Friends-in-law,” she says. “You know, since he and Ned are pretty joined at the hip.” Is she nervous about Ned liking her? She doesn’t seem so, but it’s there, hovering beneath the conversation.
Does Pat like Abbot? It feels late for the thought to occur to him.
Yes, he must. Right? He invites Abbot to the cafe regularly, and always leans over the bar for a long chat when he does.
Team Ned, he said. Did Abbot make a good impression on Pat?
No, not as Ned’s professor. As his boyfriend? Does Pat approve of him? Of them?
Does he also think five years is a reasonable time frame? Or will he say Ned is being his normal self, worrying at everything, and they’ll move in together by summer?
“Listen,” Claire says suddenly. “I know you’re biased, and this probably isn’t fair to ask, but I’m going to anyway. Is Pat a good guy?”
“I’m sorry?”
“I want to know what I’m getting into. Am I the latest in a series of women he’s introduced you to?
I was feeling incredibly sorry for myself the night I met him.
My little sister is getting married and I couldn’t be more single if I tried.
And listen, I’m alright if the answer is yes.
I knew what I was doing. But him bringing me home that night, upstairs to his place, is that his move all the time? ”
“Not that I know of,” Abbot says, taken aback by the question. Had she worried about that? Is she still? Yes, apparently.
“My ex was an absolute asshole. And I’m not dating again ever, except that I met Pat and apparently now I am. I have to figure out how much of an idiot I’m being over him, and I have no idea who else to ask. So. Would you let your sister date him?”
Abbot straightens. “My sister is thirteen.”
“Theoretically.”
“She lives in Switzerland.” And she called Pat a giant doofus, though that doesn’t seem entirely relevant, and to be specific, she called Ned that in the same breath and both had felt somehow like a compliment.
“Please,” Claire says, looking at him with such desperation that Abbot hesitates.
What does he know, really? Pat doesn’t talk about his romantic life with Abbot.
If they’re friends, they’re not friends of that sort.
He’s wondered, certainly, what conversations Ned and Pat share, though he tries not to dwell on this, uncomfortable with how much Pat may know about Abbot’s sex life and any details Ned has divulged.
Which leaves him relieved he doesn’t have any of that information to have to decide whether to share with Claire.
“I don’t remember Pat ever bringing anyone home, when Ned lived with him and I was over there,” Abbot starts.
He’d have noticed that, even in those heady weeks of Ned’s last semester at Callahan, when Abbot’s focus had been wholly, entirely absorbed with him.
“And he’s never introduced anyone else to me, nor mentioned anyone.
The other night was the first I heard of anyone he’s dated. ”
Is it better or worse that Pat’s been largely single? Abbot has no idea. Ned intimated Pat had never had a serious long-term relationship. Perhaps that’s the red flag Claire is watching for?