Inside Jeff, wild horses reared back on their hind legs to stampede the hall, but his respect for Alan made him pull in their reins and stay seated. Still, his long separation from Earnest infuriated him. It had been Anna’s power play, aided and abetted by Mad Dog.
As Anna dragged Earnest away, Jeff buried his face in his hands and seethed. Every cell in his body quivered with anger. How in hell had Anna manipulated him into this situation?
Never again.
Lincoln Purcell lumbered into the library like an amiable grizzly. He had broad shoulders, a chest as thick as a refrigerator, and thighs like hams. Somewhere in his past had surely been a football. His round Harry Potter glasses rested on a nose that veered slightly to the left, perhaps broken by knocking heads with fellow bruisers on the field.
He greeted Jeff and Alan with handshakes strong enough to drain the life from flesh, then fit his heft into a Windsor chair at the table’s head. “So we’re going to try and work out Earnest’s future today,” he began. And for the next few minutes the three men discussed Earnest as if they’d just met in a sports bar.
Purcell listened with enthusiastic ears, and Jeff relaxed. “You’d wear out your arm throwing sticks for Earnest. He’s a black hole for retrieving,” Jeff said.
“You love him, don’t you?” Purcell said.
“He’s my family,” Jeff said.
Purcell leaned forward. He flattened his palms against the tabletop and spread out his fingers like asterisks.
“I’ve talked with Alan”—Purcell nodded at him—“and with Sheldon Horowitz, Anna’s lawyer. So I have a good idea what brings you and Anna here today. I don’t intend to dictate that one of you wins and the other loses. My role is to see you through the mediation process and try to help you help yourselves.”
“That’s pretty much what Alan’s told me,” Jeff said.
“I’m sure Alan also explained that I’m not the one making decisions about your agreement today. Neither are your lawyers. The outcome is entirely up to you and Anna. It’s your responsibility to get beyond your conflict.”
“That’s not possible when we hate each other,” Jeff said.
“But you both love Earnest.”
“That’s why we’re here.”
“Then let me explain why it’s best for you to work this out with me.” Purcell reached into his pocket for a handkerchief and began cleaning his glasses’ lenses. “If you don’t come to an agreement, your only recourse is court, and a judge will be interested only in legal issues. He won’t work out an accommodation like you two could do today, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d rule that you and Anna had to share custody.”
Jeff slammed his hand on the table. “I refuse to share Earnest with her! And how the hell would she pay his expenses anyway?”
“Temper that. If the judge ordered you to share, you’d refuse at your peril,” Alan warned.
Someone on the street could have heard Jeff ’s exhale of pent-up angry steam. No way in hell will Anna get Earnest.
Purcell put on his glasses again and returned the handkerchief to his pocket. “Usually mediators keep parties in separate rooms, but I’d rather get you both in my office so you can work out what’s best for Earnest together,” he said.
The last thing Jeff wanted was to sit in the same room with Anna. “Does she agree?”
“Yes,” Purcell said.
Jeff would have preferred vacationing in a garbage dump to talking with her, but at least he could see Earnest. “To hell with it. All right.”
When Jeff opened the door to Purcell’s office, Earnest barked and whined and tore across the room. He took a flying leap, hurled himself at Jeff, and nearly knocked him down. Whimpering, Earnest bucked and thrashed and danced around Jeff ’s legs. He circled Purcell’s antique desk, wingback chairs, and oak file cabinets, and returned, wriggling with excitement. Jeff could hardly sweep him into his arms and hug him.
Oh, where have you been? I thought I’d never see you again, said Earnest’s whines. Jeff felt them as palpably as silk brushing his cheeks. I love you! I’ve missed you! I’m thrilled you’re here!
Jeff set him down and kneeled beside him. He buried his face in Earnest’s neck and smelled his doggy smell. “My buddy,” he murmured. Jeff mentally promised him, I’ll never let Anna keep you from me again.
Purcell pulled out a chair for Jeff at the conference table and motioned to him that the meeting would start. Only when he took a seat next to Alan did he glance across the table at Anna and Mad Dog, a skinny runt whose audacity still made Jeff burn. He dismissed Mad Dog as too loathsome to consider, but he locked eyes with Anna, three feet away, the distance for quarantine, but not nearly far enough for Jeff. He intended for his glare to make her look away. But she glared back, defiant.
“Why don’t you take turns telling each other in a polite, respectful way how you’d like to resolve your conflicting interests in Earnest,” Purcell said.
“That’s easy,” Jeff blurted out as Earnest wriggled under the table and lay down between Jeff and Anna’s rows of toes. It did not escape his notice that Earnest was touching him and Anna. To link them together again as a family? Or to block them from kicking each other?
“My resolution to the conflict is to walk out of here with Earnest and take him home with me where he belongs,” Jeff said through clenched teeth. “I adopted him. I have the papers. He’s mine.”
Streaks of war-paint red appeared on Anna’s pale cheeks. The tufts in her hair looked like small bayonets. Her eyes shot twelve-penny nails at Jeff. His shot them back.
“Anna? I expect you’d like to take Earnest home too?” Purcell asked.
“I want Earnest with me like he’s always been. I watch after him. He sleeps in my bed. I take him to work. I don’t want Jeff to disrupt his life.”
“You’ve disrupted his life by keeping me away from him. You think he’s happy about that?” As Jeff pointed an accusatory finger at Anna, his look of revulsion said she ranked lower than a rattlesnake scale.
Mad Dog puffed out his chest and snapped, “Mr. Purcell said to be respectful, Mr. Egan. I don’t like your tone.”
“I’ll use any tone I please.”
Alan tugged Jeff’s sleeve again. “Easy,” he whispered. He could have been coaxing a man-eating glimmer from the eyes of a tiger.
“Okay, let’s just stop here for a second.” Purcell formed a time-out “T” with his brawny hands. “I see anger in this conversation, but I’m not ready to conclude we’re wasting our time. I’m asking you again to act like two adults who have the responsibility to reach a satisfactory resolution. Since you both want Earnest, I’d like to hear from each of you how you might share him.”
“Earnest is mine. I don’t have to share him with anybody,” Jeff said.
“Edicts like that aren’t going to advance our discussion,” Purcell said. “Let me put it this way: If I had the power to decree that you two share Earnest, what terms would you find acceptable? How could you work together?”
The silence, through which ran a streak of petulance, was the temperature of sleet. Jeff listened to the clock ticking in the library, and imagined punching Mad Dog in his feeble little chops. Anna wrapped her fingers together in an agitated pretzel.
“Hostility serves no purpose here,” Purcell reminded them. “Let me backtrack. Can we figure out anything you agree on?”
As Jeff considered the question, he slipped his foot out of his loafer and wriggled his toes in Earnest’s fur. Fighting with Anna would only hurt Earnest, Jeff thought. Though he would never get over his fury, he owed it to his dog at least to contribute to this process.
“When one of us is with Earnest, the other should stay away. I’m sure Anna feels the same,” Jeff offered.
“Do you, Anna?” Purcell asked.
“Absolutely.” Anna flashed Jeff a look that would wither iron.
“Anna, can you agree that Earnest loves Jeff?” Purcell asked.
“Yes, I’ll give him t
hat.”
“How do you know Earnest loves anybody? He’s just a dog. Dogs have no feelings,” Mad Dog said.
Go twitch your rodent whiskers elsewhere. “Have you ever had a dog?” Jeff demanded.
Before Mad Dog could answer, Anna interjected, “Really. I can tell. Earnest loves Jeff.”
At least she’s finally being honest.
“So if Earnest loves Jeff, wouldn’t it be best if they could spend time together?” Purcell asked Anna.
“Yes, I guess,” she said, begrudging.
“Any thoughts about where Earnest would be happiest living?” Purcell asked.
“In my apartment,” Jeff said.
“He’d sit there all alone. You’re never home during the week,” Anna said.
“What about that, Jeff?” Purcell asked.
“I guess she’s right.”
Jeff and Anna could not agree on much else. All morning Purcell tried to herd them to an orderly arrangement, but the discussion traveled off to varied destinations. Finally, when Jeff was starved for lunch, Purcell left the room. Twenty minutes later, he returned with a proposal, handed copies to Anna and Jeff, and said, “If this is acceptable, you can sign it and get on with your lives.”
Jeff and Alan read the document together at the table, and Anna and Mad Dog moved to chairs across the room. As they mumbled together, Earnest, lying on Jeff ’s feet, began to pant as he often did when he was worried. From the number of times his name had been bandied about today, he must have concluded that something serious about him was going on. He may also have sensed that his future’s road had forked, and he was anxious about which direction would be taken. Jeff reached down and patted him, but he kept panting. Damned Anna.
The proposal said that Anna would keep Earnest during the week, and Jeff would have him from Friday evening till Monday morning. Anna would pick him up at Jeff ’s apartment, and Jeff would pick him up at the condo. Jeff would get Earnest on holidays and vacations. Anna and Jeff would each pay for Earnest’s food on their days with him, and they would split his vet care costs. If unanticipated problems arose, they would contact their attorneys.
When Jeff finished reading, mixed with his rancor were resignation and fatigue. Though he’d never forgive Anna for what she’d done to him and Earnest, he consented, as did she, to Purcell’s proposal. Jeff signed away half his right to his own dog, then rose, drained, from the table.
The room filled with the shuffling of papers and twanging of briefcase latches. Earnest wriggled out from under the table and pressed his body against Jeff ’s legs as if he were begging not to be left behind. When Anna tried to attach the leash to his collar, he shrank back, timid and unsure. He hid behind Jeff.
Jeff hugged him. “I’ll pick you up on Friday night,” he promised.
As Anna pulled Earnest toward the door, he looked back at Jeff, his eyes confused. Why aren’t you coming home with us?
Earnest’s innocence ripped Jeff ’s heart into confetti. Guilt steamrollered him flat. He was responsible for Earnest, and he should have protected him from this misery. But Jeff had failed, and now Earnest was going to get shunted back and forth between two homes. It wasn’t fair. He’d suffer. It was all Anna’s fault.
If only you could explain mediation to a dog.
CHAPTER 23
On Friday night Earnest paced the condo, and for the first time Anna could remember, he sniffed his kibble, laced with canned duck and sweet potato, and he walked away. When he looked back at Anna, his eyes said as straightforwardly as he’d ever said anything, Yuck.
Because he’d always been a blue-ribbon porker, his indifference to dinner concerned her. So did his restlessness as he paced around the condo. She handed him a cow’s hoof so he could gnaw away his nervous energy. But he refused it too. As a last line of defense, Anna got out his brush, the fastest way to make him happy.
A rampant hedonist, Earnest considered grooming a dog’s equivalent to a bachelor’s night in a five-star resort, including a six-course dinner with sirloin and ice cream, a postprandial walk on a golf course, and nubile nymphs gyrating on his minibar. All it took was one glance at his brush, and Earnest would lie on the floor, his legs in the air in his flasher position, and present his sides, chest, and belly. He would close his eyes and ready himself for bliss.
Tonight, however, Earnest bristled his eyebrows and gave the brush a mistrustful look. Are you trying to lure me into ecstasy so I’ll forget about Jeff? Earnest stationed himself at the front door in the posture of a stone lion guarding a library. Clearly, he knew that Jeff was coming.
At the mediation, Anna had heard Jeff tell Earnest that he’d pick him up on Friday. It was Friday. Therefore, Earnest must have an uncanny inner calendar, or he was one of those dogs who knew when his person was coming home. Except Jeff was now only half of Earnest’s person. And this was no longer Jeff’s home.
Now Anna would have to hand over Earnest to the dishonorable twit—as Joy would say—who had manipulated her into sharing her own dear dog. For that, she would consider him eternal scum. She was ready to spurn him.
Though she was mentally prepared for Jeff, at his inevitable knock on the door, Anna jumped inside her skin. But Earnest, as anyone would expect, went wild. He whimpered and danced and nudged his nose against the doorknob, trying to turn it and usher in his cherished alpha, his BFF, the most wonderful man on earth. Earnest’s rejoicing yips said, Let him in! Let him in!
The yips threw dry straw on Anna’s flames of jealousy. Would Earnest be as happy if she knocked on the door? She was his attentive caretaker. He was supposed to love her most. He was her dog. But as he pressed himself against the door, she felt like he was more Jeff ’s dog than hers, and her value to Earnest might be about even with a tick’s.
Grammy had once told Anna that she should never compare herself to another person, that everyone was unique and equally worthy. But maybe in the eyes of a dog, some people were more worthy than others. Maybe Jeff was Earnest’s banana split, and Anna was the rancid whipped cream that got stuck in the aerosol can.
Anna stiffened her shoulders, the better to meet her rival for Earnest’s affection. She marched across the living room, unlatched the deadbolt with an assertive click, and opened the door just wide enough for Earnest to squeeze through. As he rushed to Jeff, she gave Earnest’s haunch a final anguished pet.
“I assume I can pick him up at your apartment on Monday morning.” Her words were more clipped than a poodle.
“Yes.” Jeff did not address her by name, but his “yes” conveyed an entire thesaurus’s worth of adjectives he might have chosen to accompany “Anna”: repellant, abhorrent, detestable, appalling, revolting, repulsive.
She felt that his “yes” stomped on her self-worth. But, worse, she felt desolate that Earnest was gone. Except for his nights with Dr. Nilsen after the fire, tonight would be her first time in over two years to be alone in the condo.
Earnest’s constant presence had become a part of her. She’d taken it for granted, like her next breath or tomorrow morning’s sunrise. Tomorrow when the sun did rise, Earnest would not be snoring next to her, pressing down the mattress, and radiating warmth. She would not feel his moist nose nuzzle her awake so she would give him breakfast.
Anna backed toward the love seat and fell against the pillows. The condo’s silence consumed her. She stared at the empty rectangles where Jeff ’s paintings had been. She was empty too. Lost, if you wanted to put a fine point on it. The only time she’d ever felt so alone was after Grammy died and her parents sent her to a Seattle boarding school.
CHAPTER 24
Under a picnic table, Jeff found a stick the size of an extra-fat flute. Perfect.
He held it out to Earnest. “Look, Bud.”
Would he beg Jeff to throw it? Or take it with a mighty chomp and swagger around, playing I-have-it-and-you-don’t? For the first time ever, Jeff wasn’t sure Earnest would show interest in the stick, for which his passion had known no bounds.
> Since Earnest had wakened with his head on Jeff ’s pillow, he’d been moping. Normally the Canine Hoover, he had sniffed his breakfast and taken only a few desultory bites. At the Mini Kickers’ soccer game, he’d flattened back his ears, a sure sign he was pensive, and followed Jeff around, a shadow in need. Earnest had hardly noticed that Bobby Biggs’s ego still needed plumping after last month’s score for the opposing team.
Now the kids and parents had gone home, and Heron Harbor Park was Jeff and Earnest’s private bonding ground. Earnest had patrolled the blackberry bushes and seemed to accept that they did not produce in late fall. If he were willing, it was playtime.
“Here! Want the stick, Earnest?”
His eyes lit up. Yes! A stick! A stick! He tugged it out of Jeff ’s hand and pranced around the picnic table, showing off his trophy.
Relieved at the enthusiasm, Jeff reached out to grab the stick. “Give it to me.”
Earnest let him take it, but he stared at it so hard his body quivered. Throw it! Throw it! My genes are programmed for chasing and returning! I am bred to fetch!
Jeff raised his arm and hurled the stick into Heron Harbor, and the glorious retriever in Earnest sprang to life. He charged down the beach and lunged into the water, then paddled to the stick like a Knight Templar on a quest for the Holy Grail. Earnest gripped the stick in his mouth and paddled back to shore, victorious. He ran, dripping, up the beach, dropped the stick at Jeff’s feet, and shook his body, baptizing Jeff with water.
“Good boy! The wonder dog!” Jeff patted Earnest’s head.
Earnest fastened his gaze to the stick, then glanced up, his eyes pleading, Please, please, oh please, Jeff! Retrieving is my mission. You wouldn’t want me to go against my nature!
Jeff picked up the stick, drew back his arm, and pretended to throw without releasing. Refusing to fall for the ruse, Earnest planted his paws in the sand and did not budge. But he trembled with anticipation—until finally Jeff threw the stick for real. Earnest shot across the beach and leapt into the water.
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