There, standing next to a shiny-faced man with a manicured goatee, was the perfectly preserved face of Simone Feretti.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Cora received a text from Beth Ann exactly six minutes before their third session was about to begin, just as she entered the lobby. “L8, b there in 5,” it read. Cora was encouraged that Beth Ann was out of her apartment, given how closed off she had seemed during their last lesson. Her attempt at politeness was an added bonus.
Cora settled on a bench, ready to rehash her audition for the millionth time and stress about the Feretti connection. Even if her audition had been flawless, which it wasn’t, the Feretti connection had stopping power. She checked for Eli, hoping he was around to distract her with tales of surly front desk clerks and questionable housekeeping.
“Here I am, here I am!” Beth Ann yelled from across the lobby. Her face was bright red and shiny with sweat. She was wearing a sleeveless pink tank and multicolored leggings with a splattered neon paint design, a choice so coordinated that it made her look like she’d just stepped out of a fitness magazine.
“Hey, only ten minutes late—not bad,” Cora said with a smile. She had mentally prepared to go into full cheerleader mode to keep Beth Ann engaged and happy during the lesson, but it seemed that Beth Ann’s post-run endorphins were doing the heavy lifting for her. “Great day out there, huh?”
“Amazing! The best! I haven’t run in months and I feel like I’m finally getting back on track. Know what I mean?”
Cora nodded. They walked to the elevator together, and she scanned the lobby for Eli. “Such a good feeling. So how’s Chanel these days? Have you been getting her out much?” She probed gently, not wanting to upset Beth Ann.
“Oh no, I think she’s afraid of being outside. She acts like she doesn’t want to leave the apartment.”
Cora’s heart sank. Beth Ann was experiencing a renaissance, but Chanel wasn’t a beneficiary. “Well, let’s see what happens today. I can show you some tricks if she acts nervous. I have a feeling that she’ll be happy to get out on such a beautiful day, though.”
“Yay, sounds good!”
Chanel met them at the door with her usual routine of leaping and excitement peeing. She seemed to focus all of her greeting energy on Cora. “Can we get her right outside?” Cora asked.
“No, I have to take off these sweaty clothes first. I feel like a slob. I’ll just take her to the balcony real quick. I wasn’t gone for that long so she might not have to potty. I can change super fast, I’ll be two seconds.”
The lesson was already descending into the predictable pattern that Cora felt powerless to change. She threaded through the boxes that seemed to have multiplied and joined Chanel on the balcony while Beth Ann went into her bedroom. The little dog jumped at her with a desperation that hurt Cora’s heart. She was wild-eyed and couldn’t stop panting, like she was trying to convey that everything was wrong,everything,and she needed out of this life immediately.
“I know,lapin,I know,” Cora murmured to her. “I’m trying. I have an idea, I think you’re going to like it.” She sat on a rusted metal café chair and pulled Chanel onto her lap, mulling over the unorthodox suggestion she was about to make. The dog’s panting slowed, and Chanel leaned into Cora’s chest. The pair stared off into the distance, each comforted by the other’s warmth.
Cora looked at her phone. Nearly ten minutes had passed with no sign of Beth Ann. She popped her head into the apartment and heard running water, and it dawned on her that Beth Ann was in the shower. Cora paced in circles on the tiny balcony with Chanel at her heels, trying to figure out how to convey her frustration with how their lessons were going without hijacking Beth Ann’s runner’s high. She looked at Chanel. “I could steal you. Just pick you up and leave. Would she even care?”
Five minutes later Beth Ann slid open the door. A wave of perfume rolled out and engulfed the balcony in vanilla. She was in too-short jean shorts and a Don’t Mess With Texas T-shirt. “I’m ready to work now!” She reached toward her dog. “Chanel, baby, are you ready, too?” Chanel backed away.
Cora cleared her throat. “We don’t have much time left. Beth Ann, we’re three weeks into training and we haven’t taught Chanel anything, not even ‘sit.’ Are you sure you want to do this? I really want to work with the two of you but I’m not sure thatyouwant to.”
“Oh, please don’t. Please don’t quit.” Beth Ann’s lower lip trembled.
“I promise you, I don’t want to quit,” Cora replied in the same soft voice she used with nervous foster dogs. “But you sort of need to, uh, get with the program. We only have an hour to work through a ton of stuff, and somehow the time just disappears every week.”
“I know, I know,” Beth Ann said, her eyes filling with tears. “Where does the time go? Where is time going, like,reallygoing? I don’t get it. I mean, I try to manage my time and be responsible and get things done and then...” She trailed off and began weeping.
Cora could console the tearful overworked mom who was frustrated with her puppy’s nonstop accidents by showing her shortcuts for potty training. She could offer a shoulder to cry on and a few tears of her own when talking about putting down the family dog. But Beth Ann’s tears were something animalistic that Cora didn’t recognize. She reached out to rub Beth Ann’s back and noticed Chanel trembling under the café chair, as if she was familiar with the storm clouds.
“I’m sorry I upset you. That wasn’t my intention—”
“It’s notyou, it’s, it’s, it’s ...everything!” Beth Ann choked the words out between sobs. “Nothing makes sense to me anymore. Nothing.” She buried her face in her hands and cried harder. Cora rubbed her back and tried to find the right thing to say. She thought of Eli just a few steps down the hall as Beth Ann’s wails intensified. Maybe he could help her play therapist?
“Is there someone you can talk to?” Cora asked. No other supportive questions or calming platitudes that might quell Beth Ann’s torrent sprang to mind.
Beth Ann shook her head.
“Listen, I have an idea,” Cora said gently. “I’m thinking it might help make your life a little easier. How would you feel if Chanel stayed with me for a bit? I could finish her potty training and get her used to being outside. Give her daily lessons. It would be fun for her, like sleepaway camp.”
Beth Ann’s watery eyes widened. “You ... you want to take mydog? You want to take my only friend away from me?” Her voice was nearly a shriek.
“No, no, nottakeher, just hang with her for a week or so. Then you could focus on finding time and stuff,” Cora sputtered, shocked by the turn the conversation had taken.
“Never,” Beth Ann said, staring at Cora with scary intensity. “Never. Chanel stays with me.”
