Once we were back on the road again, I looked in the rearview mirror at my poor boy, falling off the seat, trying to figure out how to turn around in a space that would have been difficult for a dog half his size. From California to Maine, he’d been uncomfortably squished in the back seat with nary a whimper or whine. I needed to do a better job of taking care of my family. “Someday, I’ll get us a big rig, one with snow tires, four-wheel drive and a roomy back seat. Okay?” He sniffed my ear in agreement.
The feed store was right where they’d left it, so once I’d wedged a forty-pound bag of kibble into the passenger seat, I pulled out my phone to call my lawyer. No service. It went right to an emergency screen, allowing for a 911 call. That Shithead had turned off my phone, as well.
I dropped it back in my purse and started the car. “Let’s go for a walk, okay? I think we can both use one.”
This was good. It was. He was forcing me to start over fresh.
I parked on Main. I figured we could window-shop on our way down to the harbor. We’d just started walking when Chaucer pulled on his leash, which was very unlike him. I looked across the street and saw Aiden. He was talking to the tall, cool brunette who liked to rub his arm. See? She was doing it again. Chaucer wanted to go to him, but I held him firm.
Turning away from Aiden, I pretended to look in the store window; Chaucer sighed and flopped down at my feet to wait. The butthead probably thought I was an idiot, crying over ouchy wrists. I looked past his reflection into the store and saw it was empty, and not a store at all but a little restaurant.
I may not be able to do much, but I could cook. I may never have finished college, and I may have few marketable skills. I may not have held a job since before I was married, but—wait, what was my point? Oh, right, I’m an unemployable loser. Good pep talk. Maybe I’ll go into motivational speaking.
I stared in the window, dreaming of opening my own breakfast diner—the colors I would paint, the items on the menu, the name. It was all so much stuff and nonsense, but it felt wonderful and I was reluctant to walk away. The placard in the corner of the window said the location was to lease, and it gave an agent’s name and number. Although I recognized it as foolishness, I copied the number on an envelope in my bag before tugging on the leash, letting Chaucer know our walk was continuing.
“Look at the big, lit-up elk. Moose? Deer... What the hell is that on the roof? Moose, definitely a moose. Think they let doggies in their shop? Probably not. Too bad. I could really use a shot glass with a cartoon lobster on it. Come on, baby, we’re almost to the water.”
The ocean was only a block away. The air was ripe with the tang of the sea. Chaucer shook himself and began to pull again. Newfoundlands were water dogs. If I let him, he’d run to the water’s edge and jump without a second thought. It was one of the reasons I’d decided to come to Gran’s house. I knew Chaucer would love living by the sea.
Main Street gave way to an expansive view of the Atlantic, blue gray as far as the eye could see. Fishing boats dotted the water along the horizon, their labor and strain taking on a romance with the distance. A masted schooner sat close to shore. Chaucer yearned for the water and gave a little whine.
“Oh, all right. But don’t you dare shake all over me,” I said, as I leaned over to detach the leash. When he looked up at me, I gave him the go-ahead sign. He barreled over the brick walkway and went flying into the ocean. I followed at a much slower pace, bursting out laughing when he belly flopped. I made my way to the dock and sat to watch my baby frolic in the waves.
The wind was icy off the water, but I was hard-pressed to call Chaucer back to me. The punishing winds cleansed as they tore through my clothes and hair. I closed my eyes, felt the cold of the frigid rocks below me seep into my bones and let the ocean winds blow away the uncertainty and humiliation that filled me.
A furry lick on my cheek made me open my eyes. I grinned up at him and then shot to my feet, backing up quickly. “No. Wait. You promised!” He started to shake, sending water flying. Within seconds I was drenched and sputtering, water dripping off my face. Chaucer laughed at me, as only dogs can when they know they’ve gotten you good.
“All right, funny boy.” I attached his leash. “There’s a sunny park across the street. After we dry, we’ll go eat. Okay?”
Agamont Park was alive, tall trees showing their fall colors, a bright white gazebo overlooking the harbor, an ornate fountain surrounded by benches. I looked with longing at the mothers and small children playing near the fountain. I wanted children. I wanted them so badly it was an ache that seemed to crush me some days. Justin had refused, had been refusing for years. After one particularly ugly confrontation on the topic, I’d been informed that he had no desire to watch me get fat and that I hadn’t convinced him that I could be entrusted with the care of a child. Perhaps with a nanny...
I’d adopted Chaucer the following week. Justin was angry and indignant that I would do something so ill conceived and irresponsible. Poor Chaucer had had to deal with my babying while Justin had wavered between pretending Chaucer didn’t exist and railing against the dog hair on his slacks.
I lay down in the soft grass, Chaucer reclining next to me. I secured his leash under my butt and then around my arm so if he got any ideas about chasing squirrels, he’d have to drag me with him. I watched a red dragon kite trace a figure eight in the sky before multiple sleepless nights finally caught up with me, and I dozed off.
A throat clearing woke me a little while later. When I opened my eyes, a large black shape loomed, silhouetted against the sun. I flinched and shaded my eyes, squinting against the glare. I felt a tug on my arm. I looked up and found Chaucer standing behind me.
“Ma’am, we received a report of a vagrant with a large bear frightening small children.”
I knew that deep rumble. “Seriously? You’re rousting me again?”
He squatted down so I could see the glint in his eye. “Did you shower in your clothes?”
Chaucer responded by sniffing Aiden’s ear, and I’ll admit it—if you’re not prepared for it—it can be an odd experience. Let’s just say that Aiden wasn’t prepared. He flinched, losing his balance and ended up dumped on his ass. It made me smile. “Good boy,” I said, ruffling the fur behind my baby’s ear.
Aiden pulled his sunglasses down his nose, his narrowed gaze studying me over the rims. “You make a habit of napping in public parks, ma’am?”
Today was just getting better and better. “Have we not discussed my feelings about being addressed as ma’am? I’m pretty sure we have. And does your doctor know you’ve gone off your lithium? Regular use of the proper medication can make these mood swings a thing of the past.” I stood and adjusted Chaucer’s leash. “Officer, you have a good day now.”
Something inside me rebelled against the idea of turning tail and running. No more fear-based decisions. I was divorcing constant disapproval. I didn’t need to invite more in.
He stood, still staring at me over his dark lenses, a strange expression on his face.
“Let me ask you something,” I said. “Was this necessary? I’m pretty sure I wasn’t breaking any laws here. Couldn’t you have just said, ‘Hi, Katie, how’s it going today?’ Are you under the impression that I miss the disdain, the mocking?”
Hurt flashed through his eyes before he pushed the glasses back up his nose into place.
“You’re wrong.” I turned around and made my way across the park and up Main Street. I chanced a look back as I crossed the road. He still stood in the park, his hands at his hips and head bowed.
It’s number one on the list for a reason—no men. They’re nothing but trouble.