Jordan, making sure the kids are occupied enough that they aren’t listening, fills Mae in on the situation—she’s getting good at it, now that she’s told it twice; she knows when to deliver a dramatic flourish and when to keep her voice calm and steady. For the grand finale, she tells them that Simone suggested she go out on her own, and that she thinks she might do it.
They both say different versions of “Jordan, yes!” and “You have to!” And “Do it! Definitely, definitely do it!” Caspian celebrates the news by knocking over the rest of Scarlett’s milk, and they all spend a few minutes grabbing for napkins and sopping and wiping.
When all is calm(ish) Jordan says, “Yeah? You really think so?”
“We know so,” say her sisters, again and again. “Definitely.”
On the way back to Rye, Mae looks over Scarlett’s head out the window at the driving rain and says, “Mom would have loved a day like this.”
Jordan’s head whips around from the front seat and she says, “What?No, she wouldn’t have. She was such a sun worshipper. She hated the rain.”
“But she loved a summer storm.”
“Not at the beach, she didn’t,” insists Jordan. “At the beach, she wanted sun.”
“Natalie? I’m right, aren’t I?” It’s very important to Mae that Natalie agrees with her.
Natalie, taking care on Sagamore Road, where the car has to drive through deep puddles that splash up against the sides, feels a rising panic. Whose memory is correct, Jordan’s or Mae’s? “I don’t know,” she says worriedly. It scares her that she can’t remember. There are days when she can’t call up in her mind Theresa’s voice, or her laugh, or certain expressions she thought would be with her forever.
They merge onto Ocean Boulevard south of Petey’s. “I’m worried we’re forgetting her,” says Mae. “Are we forgetting her?” Evangeline, who, Mae is learning, isalways listening,pats Mae’s hand. It’s such an adult gesture, so full of care and understanding, that Mae’s eyes mist.
“Of course not,” says Jordan, though she feels it too: the fear, she can almost hear it, like a faraway drumbeat. What if they are? What if they do?
Mae thinks about how she and her sisters were each spokes on Theresa’s wheel, and how they might have had a different view of her, a different connection point, at any given time, and that’s okay, right? That’s okay. It has to be okay.
This is what she’s turning over in her mind when they pull upto the house and see that Natalie’s spot in the driveway has been claimed by a green dumpster. “Ohshit,” says Natalie. “I forgot all about this. Is it seriously Friday already?”
“Language, Ma,” says Scarlett. Mae snorts. Scarlett’s comic timing is spot-on.
“It just got real,” says Jordan, looking at the green hulk of it, thinking of the piles in the garage. “It just got really real.” Soon, this house will no longer be a Shipman house. It will be a for-sale house, and then it will belong to someone else, and then it might not exist at all. Just like that.
In the early afternoon, when she’s tying Leo’s leash to the leg of a chair so he can practice his settling, Mae calls Hal.
“Mae!” He sounds so happy to hear from her that she almost tears up. “I’m really glad to hear your voice.”
“Me too,” she says, then shakes her head, because that doesn’t make sense. She dives right in from there. “I have some bad news,” she says. “It’s about Leo. He’s okay! He’s great, actually. But—”
“I know. Leo called me. Leo the person.”
“Human Leo.”
“Ha! Yes. He told me all about his work situation. He’s heartbroken about not being able to keep the dog. We both agree you’ve made amazing progress with him.”
“Thank you,” says Mae. “But what—uh, what will happen to Leo? Dog Leo? When I bring him back? Will he have to go back to the shelter?”
“Well, that depends,” says Hal. “Would you be interested in keeping him? We could see if the shelter would waive a re-adoption fee, since he’s basically been with you the whole time.”
Here is the slot in the conversation where Mae could but doesn’twant to sayI have no home in which to keep him.So instead she says, “I’d love to, but I’m not sure how long I’ll be staying in Boulder. I might have to make some different plans.”
“Ah,” says Hal. “Got it.” There’s a pause, just this side of awkward, and then he says, “I’m sorry to hear that, actually.”
She says, “You are?”
“I was hoping you’d be working at Dog On It for the long haul. I have clients who have been asking for you. I posted the videos you sent on the website and on my Instagram account, and the response has been terrific.”
She’s dumbfounded. She says, “Ithas?”
“One person wanted to know the name of your tattoo artist. But the rest were potential new board-and-train clients. I was thinking you could focus on that aspect of the business, if you’d consider coming back.”
