“It’s okay. They have to deal in their own way. I think it’s all right now. And even if it’s not, I’m an adult now. I can make my own decisions.”
“Even if you’re the baby.” He’s smiling for real now.
“Even if I’m the baby. I’m an actual live adult baby.” Calvin laughs, and Mae realizes it’s good to hear him laugh, because he’s been doing his best this week, but she hasn’t really heard himlaugh,not the way he used to when Theresa was alive.They’re on Congress Street now, pulling up behind Mae’s car, and sure enough, an orange ticket is blazing on the windshield. “Oh, noooo,” moans Mae. She hops out of the car and grabs the ticket. Thirty-five dollars. The time on the ticket is 9:21. She looks at the sign, then back at the ticket. “I didn’t even get this for parking overnight! It’s just from not paying at nine a.m.!” She could cry. But hadn’t Jordan said she would pay if Mae got a ticket?
Then her dad is beside her, out of his car, and he’s taking the ticket from her, folding it, putting it in his pocket. “Dad, no,” says Mae, without much conviction. “I’m a baby adult, remember? I can pay that.”
“This one’s on me,” he says. “Belated Fourth of July gift.”
She can feel how gigantic her smile is. “I mean, I was going to say, I hope Dad gets me something really good for the Fourth this year.”
Calvin has a funny look on his face.
“What?” she asks.
“What what?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Your smile,” says Calvin. “You look exactly like her right now.”
She feels something inside her open and turn toward the sun. “I do?”
“You do. Your smile is full of light just like hers was.”
“Itis?” Their mom had the best smile.
“Don’t lose that, okay?”
“Okay.”
“Listen, Mae? I wanted to talk about the house, to explain—”
She feels her smile fall away. “Dad. Thank you for the ride and everything. But I don’t want to talk about the house. When I think about someone else buying it, that’s bad enough, strangers living in Mom’s house. But when I think of it not evenexistinganymore...” Her voice trails off. She’s too sad to be angry. “I can’t.”
He looks at her for a long moment, then nods slowly. “Noted,” he says. “I seem to get that response from everyone. But at some point, we should all talk about it.” He taps twice on the hood of her car with his knuckles and returns to his own car without looking back. Mae wants to call to him to turn around; she wants to saylet’s talk about her smile some more!But the moment is gone. It’s amazing how quickly you can change the mood of someone you love. The power we have over other people’s emotions is formidable.
Mae texts Jordan:You should take Dad to Petey’s.
Immediately the reply comes:Why me?
I think he’d like to go with you.
Before she starts driving, she reads the text from Human Leo. Human Leo has loved seeing all of the videos Mae made. The transformation Leo has undergone has been truly amazing. But he has decided he won’t be able to have a dog after all. He got an offer to move out of the country for work. The job is in Dubai! He’s always, always wanted to live in Dubai. It’s a dream come true, really. Of course he’ll still pay for the board-and-train! But he will no longer be able to be Leo’s owner. Should he contact the shelter to initiate a return, or is there any chance Mae wants to keep Leo? They seem to have developed a real bond!
On Dog Leo’s behalf Mae is both sad and irate.Initiate a return?Leo is not an Amazon purchase! Human Leo can’t drop him off to be scanned at the closest UPS Store!
Mae’s fingers hover over her phone screen. She’s not sure what to say.
She thinks about Leo’s big square head, and the way he looks like he’s smiling when he’s panting really intensely. She thinks about how hard he tries in his training sessions, and how much of his inauspicious beginning he’s already overcome. Does she want to keep Leo? Yes. No question. But she can’t afford him. There would be food bills and vaccinations, chew toys and treats and poop bags and license fees. Never mind the cost of an apartment that would allow her to keep a dog. It’s bad enough to live out of your car; forcing a dog to live out of your car with you is a bridge too far.
Oh, Leo, she thinks. I don’t want the world to fail you again. But how can she stop it from doing so? She eases her car onto the road and points herself toward home.
While Calvin and Mae go to get Mae’s car Natalie checks the weather on her phone. Sunny in the morning, clouds rolling in in the afternoon. Rain tomorrow! Did they know this? They have had such a perfect string of days so far that they all imagined it would go on like this forever, but they are, after all, in New England, where all good weather must come to an end.
Nikoletta has left them a punch list of tasks to complete prior to the open house. The dogs have made a mess of the stair risers, so those will need a good scrub. The bookcases have somehow cluttered themselves since the photos for the listing were taken. They need to clear the kitchen countertops of extra appliances, fill the paper towel roll, put out fresh kitchen towels. But these things can’t really be done until Saturday; if begun too early, they’ll only need to be redone.
Natalie’s head is pounding and her eyes are scratchy from lack of sleep. She downs four Advil and finds her middle child in the living room, lying on the couch in her nightgown.
