I explain, “I don’t grieve the right way. I’ll seem fine, then six months from now, I’ll see a duck and start sobbing uncontrollably.”
Alana tilts her head to the side, crosses her arms and asks, “Why a duck?”
“Because it’s on the cheese she sometimes snacks on.”
Joey frowns. “That’s a parrot. The duck is on the box of the store-bought cake snacks she buys.”
Yeah, I got those two confused. “Either way, I’ll have some pent-up emotional outburst at some inconvenient time and completely out of context to the rest of the world.” I take a deep breath before saying, “I am sorry for your loss.”
The three of us stand in an awkward silence for way too long. It isn’t until Kingston drops his chew toy and trots over to Joey and starts sniffing him that the conversation changes.
He looks at me and asks, “What the hell are you going to do about this?” Joey doesn’t touch Kingston, even though he’s giving his best ‘I’m a good boy and you should pet me’ face.
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Aren’t you going to take him with you?”
“I can’t. He’s not my dog. And my apartment doesn’t allow pets. You’ll probably have to look after him for the time being.”
Joey doesn’t like this answer. He lifts his head to the sky, closes his eyes, and exhales. But not in a therapeutic way. In a way that makes you think, oh shit, he might kill someone if he doesn’t get some chocolate in him soon.
Oh, double shit. Do I have any chocolate? Of course not. I’m on the clock.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with him?”
“Well, he’s a companion dog, which means he’ll want to be in the room with you. He really can’t be alone all day. I’ll be back in a few hours to take him out for his night walk and to feed him dinner. And I’ll come by in the morning too.” Hmm, Joey probably doesn’t actually live at Nonna’s house. “When you decide to take him back to your place, I can keep walking him, assuming you live nearby.”
He exhales again and pinches the bridge of his nose. “How often am I going to see you?”
“I come in and out of this house six times a day, so I’ll ask you not to threaten to shoot me every time.”
He grumbles, “I guarantee nothing.”
“Joey…” Alana gives him a warning.
Cool, this won’t be the most awkward job ever. “Well, I’ll be back later to take care of Kingston. Again, sorry for your loss.” I leave and once on the street push out the biggest breath in the history of exhales.
What the hell did I get myself into?
Chapter Two
Joey
“You didn’t know she had a dog?” Alana says as I stare at the space where the blue-haired dog walker stood. Something about her is vaguely familiar, but my brain is too distracted with more important details to give it any more thought. Like the fact she was the woman who Nonna apparently trusted with the house code. The woman who was happy Nonna died in a plane crash. The woman Nonna saw multiple times a day and never once mentioned to me. Much less the fucking dog.
“Correction, how the hell did you not know she had a dog?” Alana points around the house. There are several framed pictures on the walls—Donny’s confirmation, my graduation, baby pictures of my dad and uncle. And a picture of a husky puppy. On the mantle there are even more pictures. Izzy sitting on Santa’s lap. Thiago, Uri, and I, all standing around Santa. Izzy was about seven and smiling wide with missing front teeth. But the rest of us glare at Santa, untrusting of anyone who wants kids to sit on their lap and do a little B and E once a year. Santa looks like he’s about to throw up. And a picture of a husky puppy sitting on Santa’s lap; this Saint Nick smiles as wide as the dog. Hmm. Can dogs smile?
“I don’t know. I thought she was talking about some internet dog.” To be honest, for a while there I’d been worried about her mental state. She’s well into her eighties.
Was. Was well into her eighties.
Grief hasn’t hit me yet. I’m in a state of “what needs to be done.” Funeral arrangements, calling people, and um… I don’t know what else to do. The whole family is in a state of stunned shock. Eventually, one of the aunts or uncles will take over the burden of planning. Life will go on, and there will be a Nonna shaped hole in the world.
The dog walks, no, trots over to Alana, who bends down to pet him. “Why don’t you take him?” I suggest.
She runs her fingers around his ears and tilts her head, adoring him. Ohhh, is she considering it? Could I be off the hook?
But her face falls a little. “I can’t. My apartment only allows one pet, and Midge came first.”
