Natural Selection

by Amanda Lance

  The response was intended to dismiss her, but Mrs. Levkin stood fast, now understanding what Kasper was doing. Immediately, she smiled and Kasper hated it.

  “One in New York, I presume?”

  Kasper said nothing.

  “I don’t understand your behavior.” She sighed. “Clearly, you still love this girl—”

  “Be quiet, you hag! I’m tired of everyone around here lecturing me like I’m some child!”

  “Then stop acting like one!”

  Mrs. Levkin walked into the room as though she owned it and did not hesitate to face him. With her stern face and tired eyes, she stared at him, making it plain that she was as angry as she sounded.

  “You should mind your place, old woman.”

  “I am minding my place. You have been moping around here for the last year like you have been given a death sentence, and since you’ve made it clear you’re not going to snap out of it, you need to just go ahead and die or do something to make yourself better.”

  He almost smiled. “Suicide seems a bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

  “I do.” She nodded. “Not to mention that I would be out of a job—”

  “I would be sure to write you a dazzling recommendation before I made my final exit.” He finally did smile then. Only jokes about his death and remembrances of Emilia did that anymore.

  “Stop that,” she chided. “No one is going to let you hurt yourself, and if you don’t contact Emilia Ward soon, I will.”

  “Didn’t you just say that you valued your position?”

  Mrs. Levkin sighed. It seemed that instead of her patience increasing with age, it was only decreasing.

  “The world is not the big place you perceive. And I seriously doubt that between all of them there are as many who would be as willing to work with you as you with them.”

  He clicked his teeth together. Isn’t that what Aasif always said? He really did need to break up those little chats of theirs.

  “If you don’t think of yourself, then think of the rest of us,” she tried again. “Your presence alone is so depressing that even the plants wilt when you walk into a room. Several clients have sent back proposals, complaining that they are too morbid—”

  Kasper had to admit he almost smiled at that one, although only in the appropriateness of the comment. He had a face like death, so why should his appearance and work not destroy all those who came across it?

  “Kasper?”

  She did not wait for his silence and continued without permission:

  “Very well, if you won’t think of anyone else, or yourself, consider this: if you have no more clients, then you will no longer be able to donate to charities of your choice. If you think the only good you are to Emilia is in your money, then think about how useless you will be if you have none!”

  The older woman chided herself for being so harsh. She had intended to scold Kasper with tough love, not give him more motivation to sulk. She sighed and tried again:

  “If that girl loves you with even an ounce to match how much you love her, then she would want you to be happy. All of this self-destructive behavior must end before you truly do some damage to yourself. What if she needs you some day, and you are bed-ridden with a rotting liver?

  “What do you propose I do, then?” he roared. “Invade her life once again? Throw myself on her mercy?”

  “Yes!” she snapped. “If it will give you peace, some sense of closure, then that is exactly what I propose you do! If nothing else, you should give yourself an opportunity to be happy. And if you need to see her again, that is exactly what you should do! Life is too short to not be bold, Kasper! You of all people should know that!”

  Little did Mrs. Levkin understand that his little peach was the only happiness he had ever known and that life itself—or at least his—had already been horrifically too long. Still, perhaps the meddling old woman had a point. If he could at least see her again, have undeniable proof that she wasn’t just well but happy and secure in her new life, then maybe it would be easier to accept not having her in his.

  He put down the bottle. “I suppose you’re still capable of having the car prepared, then?”

  Just maybe, he thought, it was time to be bold.

  ***

  Emilia was only two steps up the stairwell when Tut began his rampage of happy squealing from the floor above. She laughed and listened to the sound of his nails clip-clopping on the floor, his hesitation to scratch at the door because he knew he would be in trouble for doing so.

  “Hey there.”

  She nodded at Andrew, who sat at the top of the stairs, surrounded by textbooks and papers, but when he saw the bag of groceries in her arms, he slid his textbook to the side and rushed to meet her.

  “Need a hand?”

  “No thanks, I think I’ve got—”

  He smiled wide and swindled the brown bag from her before she could completely say no.

  “Thanks.” She smiled. “I always forget what a gentleman you are.”

  “Then I’m just going to have to keep reminding you.”

  Emilia laughed and finished taking the stairs two at a time, half afraid that Tut would have an accident if he continued to hear her voice without seeing her. Andrew followed close behind.

  Tut rushed Emilia within a second of her unlocking the door and turning the knob. She welcomed his slobbery kisses with laughter, holding her breath at how bad his was and scratching his ears to show him equal affection. In the midst of the assault, she was vaguely aware of Andrew slipping past them and putting the groceries on the counter, but Tut remained oblivious.

  “Hi-ya, Tut,” he said after a second. “Don’t I get any love?”

  “Oh please.” She laughed again and attempted to push Tut away, but now he was happily sniffing her hair and ears, seemingly confused at the smell of dog that did not belong to him. “Take the love. Take all the love… and the drool that comes with it.”

  Andrew reached into the ceramic jar on top of the small refrigerator, and the sound instantly alerted Tut to the potential of treats. Emilia was immediately forgotten as the dog ran across the floor, stopping only to avoid slamming his large body into the already broken pantry.

  Andrew shook his head. “One of these days, he’s going to give himself a concussion doing that.”

  “He already has—one too many, I’d say. Permanent brain damage.” Emilia stood up and went to put her groceries away. “Make sure you get him to sit first.”

  “You make a man work for his food? How is that not animal cruelty?”

  Putting the generic SpaghettiOs in the cupboard, Emilia laughed and pretended to consider the question. “Because men are animals?”

  “Good point.” He shrugged. “Hey, weren’t you supposed to work late tonight? A staff meeting or something?”

  “Uh—yeah…” Emilia listened to Tut’s teeth as they clamored on his pup-jerky. With the potential of Kasper back in her life, the banter with Andrew was a happy distraction. And frankly, she was grateful for the disturbance in her thought-process. Emilia had felt so foolish for calling him in the first place that she hadn’t bothered to try a second time. Instead, she had spent the remainder of her morning searching for anything and everything on the shelter’s new generous benefactor. When nothing credible came up, she only became more restless, angry even that she had no real access to the books and therefore could not trace the money.

  Emilia did know that Paula and Elaine liked her, and she was almost certain that if she made enough of an effort, she could convince one of them to insist that the donor with the pseudonym come forward. The real question was, did she even want to? What if she didn’t like the answer?

  “Em?”

  “Huh? Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to zone out… It’s been a weird day.”

  “Weird?” He opened up the refrigerator and turned his nose up at what his saw—or lack thereof.

  “Yeah.” Emilia kicked him playfu
lly until he closed the door. “The shelter got a big donation today. It was really out of the blue.”

  “Big? Like more than five dollars?”

  “Hey, your five dollars was extremely appreciated.” She laughed while Andrew tried to dodge Tut’s investigating nose. If Andrew had more goodies, Tut would be the dog to find them.

  “Sure, sure.”

  Emilia’s laugh faded. It was adorable the way Andrew hid Tut’s rope toy behind his back, and when Andrew revealed the hidden toy, Tut would run in small circles with his tail wagging. As sweet as it was still, the humor was quickly lost on her.

  Maybe the donation was just from a wealthy businessman or an inheritance from a lonely animal lover. There was even the possibility that it was a gift from a criminal trying to alleviate his conscience. Emilia went through all the scenarios in her mind, ruling them out one by one. Then again, maybe it was just wishful thinking getting the better of her, and her imagination overruling her common sense.

  The hands roamed over her as easy as summer air. Emilia welcomed them happily, leaning up and into them as if they were her life support—her only means of suspending death. It took her a few moments, but she did come to realize that she knew the hands and that they knew her, too, and when she did, it only made her want the callused fingertips on her more.

  Silently she begged for the hands to continue, and they obeyed without hesitation, teasing in all the right places and trailing just under her night shirt to make her squeal. A finger swirled around her bellybutton and met with the others to play her stomach like a soft keyboard. And though she was instantly frustrated, the voice that came with the hands only laughed and continued the assault, gently massaging her breasts instead of touching her in the spot they so knew she wanted.

  “Kasper…”

  Emilia woke up with a start again, although it was hardly out of fear or confusion. Her body and mind knew exactly what it wanted, who it wanted.

  But there wasn’t a chance of that.

  She sighed and cursed at herself. Grateful at least, that while her bed was empty, her dream had not been a dark one, and she tried to think back to the last time she had experienced even a daydream quite that powerful.

  She blamed it entirely on the weird events of the day.

  Like the night before and the night before that, she got up and got herself a glass of water, stretched, and stared out the window. The only real difference between that night and all the other nights was that Tut didn’t get up with her and remained in his own bed for a change, not even chasing imaginary squirrels.

  Emilia knew she should have tried to go back to sleep but that it would be pointless even if she hadn’t just had that dream. But now that visions of lust were dancing in her head, attempting to sleep would have just been a waste of time. Still, Emilia figured that if she didn’t get what she wanted, what she needed, then she might as well at least try to be productive and get some studying in.

  Even those efforts proved unfruitful. Emilia sat and opened up one of her textbooks of animal dermatology, instantly unable to focus. Her brain reeled back to the ghostly feel of Kasper’s hands on her, his mouth on various parts of her body…

  “Okay.” She sighed. “Screw this. Let’s go for a walk.” Slamming the book shut, Emilia shook her hands as though she could shake the thinking straight from her fingers and out into the air.

  “Come on, Tut.” She reached for the hook that held his leash and clanged the end loudly at the end of the table in an attempt to wake him up. When that didn’t work, however, she sighed and tried again, mimicking a lasso and swirling the leash around.

  “Whoo-hoo? Walk?”

  When he still didn’t respond, Emilia approached him and dropped the leash, patting his head. Tut opened his eyes, groaned, and settled his rump deeper into his blanket.

  “Fine.” She sighed. “I’ll go by myself.”

  Emilia pulled on the clothes she had worn earlier and sneakers without any socks before grabbing her keychain of mace. If she wasn’t going to have a pit bull on a leash, then she was going to have some sort of self-defense. She wasn’t going to knowingly put herself in any position to be hurt—not again.

  Thoughts like that only got her thinking of Kasper again, though, and she knew she needed the distraction of exercise more than ever. Thinking she would jog around the block a few times, she pulled up her hair and tried to ignore the strange feeling that bubbled up in her stomach—that feeling of being suspended and being watched again creeping up on her as she unlocked her door and glanced down.

  The single rose that was lying there told her instantly that her instincts were still on key.

  ***

  Everyone was already there when Emilia arrived at work the next morning. Even Claudette, who usually didn’t come in until the afternoon, was there before her, as were Bob and Sandra, two retired schoolteachers who volunteered regularly on Sundays. Someone had splurged and purchased bagels as well as donuts and coffee, creating a buffet of cream cheeses, sprinkles, and coffee condiments that everyone gathered around while they chatted happily, so enraptured with their planning that they didn’t even notice Emilia walking in.

  “So we’re agreed we need to get a web designer?”

  Paula scribbled something on a piece of paper.

  “I think we can get advertising on Twitter, colored flyers, promotion on Facebook for cheap-”

  “Our first priority needs to be the roof.”

  “That’s right,” Elaine said. “Advertising won’t matter if we don’t have a place to put the dogs.”

  “A friend of mine does repairs—”

  “Thanks, Bob, but we need certified people.”

  “What about the restroom?” Sandra asked.

  “I have a plumber coming tomorrow.”

  “Em, there you are!”

  The sound of Claudette’s voice brought Emilia out of her stupor, forcing her to pay attention to the happy group in front of her. She grimaced and tried to draw the attention back to the group.

  “I didn’t know we were having a party.” She tried to laugh, but the sound didn’t come out right. Luckily, no one seemed to notice.

  “Join us,” Elaine said with a mouthful of donut. “We’re trying to budget this money.”

  “Right.” Emilia pulled herself up on the desk, seeing that all the chairs were spoken for. “About this money—”

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” Sandra gushed. “It’s like a miracle.”

  Emilia smiled. Whether it was for good or bad, according to Sandra and Bob, everything happened because of Jesus. Emilia didn’t agree with it, didn’t like it, but private shelters ran on free labor, and she knew it was better to hold her tongue.

  “Um—as great as this money is—and it is great!” She made herself smile in case they sensed her immediate skepticism. They didn’t know what Kasper was capable of—didn’t know that he was a heartbreaker who broke promises for his own benefit. Emilia knew, as the one who had probably brought him into their lives, that she had a responsibility to prepare them for the worst of it. “Have we explored where it’s come from? Who really sent it?” Emilia stared at the floor to hold back from saying what she was really thinking. If the benefactor wanted something for it in return.

  Claudette shrugged, and Bob didn’t even seem to hear her. Had they already gotten their hopes up, then? Anticipated that the shelter would stay open? Elaine took another big bite of donut before answering: “He made it imperative in his letter that he wanted to remain anonymous—”

  “Letter? He sent you a letter?”

  “Rich, old guy.” Claudette nudged Paula. “What’d I tell you?”

  “I didn’t even take it seriously, but the money order came with an e-mail from his attorney and it stressed the anonymity again—conditioned next year’s donation to it, in fact. Whoever the guy is, he doesn’t want to be found.”

  Emilia clutched her stomach while she watched the world spin. She wa
nted to ask Elaine the name of the benefactor’s lawyer, but her throat was closing up, and she struggled to breathe properly. Even the night before, when she had seen the rose outside of her door, she had had her doubts. It had the same soft petals and deep scarlet color as the roses Kasper had given her after their first night together, but it could have been a coincidence—there was always a possibility. Maybe it was meant for somebody else; maybe somebody had just dropped it by accident, maybe, maybe, maybe…

  Now she couldn’t deny it. Not only was he still thinking about her, but he was here, had come to her apartment and stood outside her door, made the effort to bring her a rose but not the effort to knock. And for the life of her, she could not think why.

  Bob said something about respecting the donor’s wishes, and it ended the conversation.

  Her questions didn’t ruin the mood, and the debates continued without her until the late morning, when contractors came to give estimates on new outdoor gates, and a family came to seek a potential new pet. Emilia kept her mouth shut after Bob and Sandra left, leaving the management stuff to Paula and Elaine and trusting Claudette to manage the phones and paperwork for a change. Instead, she spent the day cleaning the yards (a chore usually reserved for the community service handoffs), bathing the dogs, and clipping their nails. Emilia even washed their blankets and beds, cleaning out the washer each time with a scrub and disinfectant. For all her attempts to distract herself, she was only in the middle of cleaning out the lint trap when Claudette finally said something.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You seem a little… off, I guess.”

  “Yeah,” she lied. “I’m good. Just tired from pulling an all-nighter.”

  Claudette laughed and pulled the trash bag from its container, twisting it tight. “I don’t know how you can do a summer semester. I’d go crazy without a break.”

  “I like it.” Emilia shrugged, remembering how last year’s summer semester saved her when Kasper broke her heart. At the time, school had only been a reason to wake up in the morning until she found a job, but like all the other times in her life, it had steered her out of the storm and set her straight.