Dingo's Recovery

by Genevieve Fortin

  “Yes, of course,” she answered as she quickly stood up and left the table. She didn’t play video games, but she’d watch Noah for a little while and then she’d leave. She was done talking to Doug for tonight. His intentions were good, but the results of his friendly warning were devastating.

  People were so complicated. They had multiple facets, hidden ones even, and one could never know their true motives. If anyone had asked her before tonight if she trusted anyone in this world she would have named Joyce and Doug. Now the two people she thought she could trust exposed two completely opposite versions of Joyce. Who was she supposed to believe? She hated these situations where she had to rely on her intuition. She liked clear instructions, irrefutable facts, everything people would never be with their endless nuances and contradictions.

  She’d never truly trusted people before, and as she watched Noah play a video game that didn’t make sense to her, she decided she should have stuck to animals. Animals didn’t have complicated personalities. They didn’t have secrets. They didn’t lie. Their needs were clear as water. They ate when they were hungry, slept when they were tired, and when they showed affection you didn’t have to wonder if they really loved you or how long it would last. Their love was pure and endless. Of course, the kind of love an animal could provide would never be the kind of love she’d thought she might finally have a chance to find with Joyce. Whether that kind of love was worth risking her peace of mind for remained to be seen.

  Chapter Twelve

  As Joyce drove in the direction of the Perry Veterinary Clinic on Friday morning, she glanced at the rearview mirror to make sure Dingo was on the backseat. For a second she couldn’t remember carrying him to the car and securing his harness. She’d been so happy about seeing Amanda again she’d almost forgotten the true purpose of her visit to the clinic. What would she look like if she showed up for her appointment without Dingo? Fortunately he was there, staring back at her in the mirror with his usual frown. Joyce laughed at her own behavior before she spoke to Dingo. “I’m so sorry, little brat. Your mommy’s totally nuts.”

  Joyce had tried to understand why she was so excited to see Amanda and had attempted to curb her enthusiasm, but even yoga had failed. She was so different from any other friend she’d had in the past thirty years. There was something pure about her, something untainted that made Joyce feel like she could be herself when she was around her. She could dress the way she wanted, speak her mind and laugh as loud as she desired; Amanda would never judge her. It was refreshing. It was exactly what she needed and wanted in her new life.

  When Amanda had confirmed her intuition about her sexuality, Joyce had been both relieved and disappointed. Relieved because Amanda being a lesbian made it that much easier for Joyce to be herself with her, to discuss her past with Evelyn or her dreams for the future. Disappointed because now Barbara would certainly insist that she arrange a meeting between Amanda and Heather.

  Joyce wasn’t ready to share Amanda. She didn’t know her well enough yet, she hadn’t had enough of her yet. She wanted to keep her all to herself. So she hadn’t called Barbara to share Amanda’s coming out with her. She’d decided to wait until she called her or stopped by her house. Every day that went by without having to spill her secret was a day of reprieve.

  Joyce arrived at the clinic and carried Dingo inside. She barely had time to sit Dingo on her lap and adjust the pink silk scarf around her neck before Isabelle arrived and asked her to follow her to the exam room. Amanda entered the room shortly afterward and smiled. Joyce saw some restraint in the lovely smile, something she hadn’t seen before. “Good morning, Ms. Allen,” Amanda said politely. “How is Dingo doing?” Without looking at Joyce, she started scratching Dingo’s neck.

  Joyce was shocked. She’d expected Amanda to ask how she was doing before she asked about Dingo. They both knew his health was the purpose of this visit, but they were past the client/professional relationship, weren’t they? Although that “Ms. Allen” sure sounded businesslike. Maybe Amanda wanted to take a step back. Maybe she wasn’t interested in a friendship at all. “He’s doing very well. He puts more weight on his leg now. I think he forgets about his splint and bandage,” Joyce answered with a nervous chuckle.

  “That’s very good,” Amanda granted. “But don’t let him overdo it. He still needs to take it easy for a few weeks, okay?”

  “Of course,” Joyce agreed as she lowered her eyes to the ground like a young girl who’d been scolded. She was taken aback by Amanda’s attitude.

  “We’ll take Dingo back to remove his bandage now, Ms. Allen, if you don’t mind waiting.”

  “I’d rather watch what you’re doing, actually. Like last time. I want to see his leg. Is that possible?”

  Amanda finally turned to her and offered her a genuine smile that almost comforted her. The warmer Amanda she knew wasn’t far. “Of course, it’s possible,” she said before she turned to the vet tech. “Isabelle, would you mind going to get scissors and anything else we might need?”

  When Isabelle left the room, Joyce didn’t waste any time taking advantage of her time alone with Amanda. She had to find out what had caused this change of attitude. “Is something wrong? You seem distant.” She placed a hand on Amanda’s back and saw the young woman close her eyes and sigh. “I thought we had fun at the fair.”

  “We did,” Amanda admitted as she leaned into Joyce’s touch.

  “Then what happened? I thought we were becoming friends and this morning you start Ms. Allen’ing me again?”

  Amanda turned to Joyce and looked into her eyes. Joyce held her scrutinizing stare even though she felt like she’d been connected to a lie detector. “Why do you really want to be friends with me? Can you answer that question for me? I have nothing to offer you.”

  “You couldn’t be more wrong,” Joyce replied. She didn’t know what else to say, but Amanda wouldn’t let her off the hook so easily.

  “Why me?” she asked again.

  “I like you. Isn’t that enough?”

  Isabelle opened the door to the exam room and Joyce dropped her hand to her side. Amanda looked away, freeing her from her intense, interrogating gaze. Joyce didn’t know if she’d given the right answer, but it was the truth. She liked Amanda. She really liked her.

  “All right, Dingo, let’s see what we have here,” Amanda said gently as Isabelle helped her lay him on his side on the exam table. Joyce caressed his head and muzzle and whispered calming words to him as she watched Amanda and Isabelle carefully remove the bandage. The smell didn’t seem as bad as the first time, but it was definitely still there. So were the sores, although they hadn’t worsened. “Shouldn’t these be getting better?” she asked anxiously.

  “It will be difficult for them to heal properly as long as they’re covered with the bandage. We only need to make sure we keep them from getting infected for now. There’s no sign of infection so far and I’ll give you more antibiotics to keep it that way. Have you noticed if he licks his bandage in those areas? They must be very itchy.”

  “He tries, but he stops when I ask him.”

  “That’s good, but I think you should use the Elizabethan collar when you’re not around and when you go to bed at night. You can’t ask him to stop if you don’t see him, Joyce,” Amanda argued with empathy. Joyce took the use of her first name as a good sign, but she didn’t like what Amanda was suggesting.

  “Not that plastic cone, please. He’s already bandaged and restrained to a stupid crate. I can’t put that thing around his neck too. Please, give him a break,” she pleaded. She was rewarded with a brief chuckle.

  “It’s for…”

  “For his own good, I know,” Joyce grumbled. “I’ll try it. I always listen to you, you know.”

  “Good, keep it that way,” Amanda replied with a grin. They finished removing the bandage and Amanda instructed Isabelle to take Dingo back to wash his leg and dry it. “I’ll join you in a minute,” she added. Isabelle obeyed and as soon as the d
oor closed behind her and Dingo, Amanda turned to Joyce and sighed. “I’m sorry if I seemed cold earlier.”

  “Does that mean we can be friends?” Joyce asked with a timid, hopeful smile that widened when Amanda nodded.

  “We can be friends, but I want to make one thing clear.”

  “Sure, what is that?”

  “I don’t play games. If I’m your friend it’s because I like you and I enjoy being with you, not because I want to use you in any way for advancement, social standing, or any other crap I couldn’t care less about. And I expect the same from you in return. Okay?”

  Joyce was confounded by Amanda’s warning. She wondered what had happened or what she might have heard about her that made her think this clarification was necessary. She vowed to find out. But for now she only wanted to reassure Amanda.

  “That’s fair. I don’t like games either. I’ve played them for almost thirty years and I’m done with them. It’s obvious you’re a straightforward, no-nonsense person and it’s one of the reasons why I like you so much.”

  “That’s good.”

  Amanda’s blush and her bashful smile indicated that Joyce had successfully assuaged her worries. Unable to imagine waiting two more weeks to see Amanda again, she took advantage of her win to suggest another outing.

  “Now that we’re clear on that, what would you think of having breakfast with me tomorrow? At the Bagel Café around ten? My treat.” She sensed Amanda’s hesitation and quickly added, “We could go for a walk on that trail you like so much afterward. Walk the calories off. What do you say, huh?”

  Amanda started laughing quietly at her insistence. “Okay, okay. That does sound like fun. But please tell me you don’t really worry about calories.” Joyce felt her face heat up as Amanda examined her body from head to toe, a heat that only intensified when she noticed the blush on Amanda’s face. Apparently the veterinarian’s unexpected appraisal had surprised her as much as it had Joyce.

  “Not one bit. I’m too old to worry about my weight,” she answered as she waved her hand dismissively in front of her face. She’d felt the need to remind both of them, but especially herself, of their obvious age difference. It was her own way to remember that Amanda couldn’t possibly desire her fifty-six-year-old body and she had no right to expect her to.

  “Age has nothing to do with it,” Amanda replied. “I don’t worry about calories either. I eat well and I exercise but I refuse to diet or count calories. It’s a waste of time. I’ll never be as thin as you are, but that simply means I’m not meant to be. That’s how I see it anyway.”

  “That’s very wise,” Joyce offered as she intentionally and with difficulty kept herself from looking down at Amanda’s hourglass curves, curves she couldn’t pretend she hadn’t noticed before.

  “Well, I better go help Isabelle or you’ll never get out of here.”

  “Yes, of course. So we’re on for tomorrow then?”

  “Ten o’clock at the Bagel Café. We’re on.”

  “Great. I’ll see myself to the waiting room.”

  “Perfect. We’ll come get you when Dingo’s ready.”

  “Thank you.”

  Amanda nodded and left the exam room. Joyce stayed immobile for a few seconds, wondering if it was the first time she’d had this type of physical reaction to Amanda’s appearance. She couldn’t deny what she’d felt was attraction, and she was profoundly disturbed by it. Had she been fooling herself in thinking all she wanted from her was friendship? Had she looked at her in a way that made her think she wanted more? Was this morning’s warning Amanda’s way of asking her to back off?

  How humiliating. She wasn’t so sure friendship with Amanda was such a good idea anymore, but she couldn’t stay away. She would need to be careful around her and make sure the kind of vibes she’d felt this morning didn’t flare up again. Ever.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Amanda walked on the stone path of Norumbega Parkway, the first of the two beautifully landscaped parks of the Norumbega Mall, an island in the middle of the Kenduskeag Stream. The Mall allowed pedestrians to walk from Franklin Street all the way to Hammond Street. The Norumbega Parkway ended at Central Street, where the Bagel Café was located. It was not even a five-minute walk and Amanda arrived a little before ten. As she waited for Joyce on the sidewalk in front of the popular red brick building, people went inside as others came back out with cups of hot coffee and pastries or bagels. She watched in silence and waited.

  It was early August, the morning sun was warm, and she was wearing sandals, shorts, and a T-shirt like most of the people walking by her. Unlike them, however, she had an oversized white sweater on over her T-shirt. She couldn’t help it. Ever since she’d started to buy her own clothes as a teenager she’d worn sweaters all year long. Yes, she tended to be cold when most people weren’t, but there was more behind her clothing choice. Her beloved sweaters comforted her. There was something about their heaviness on her body, their long sleeves with which she often covered her hands, the thickness of the knitted fabric she caressed or picked at with her fingers when she was nervous. It was akin to carrying her favorite comfy blanket or a pet with her everywhere.

  Amanda glanced at her watch. Joyce was late. Maybe she’d had a chance to reflect about her attitude at the clinic and had decided not to come. She regretted giving Joyce the cold shoulder, but she’d simply been trying to follow Doug’s advice. Keeping her distance from her without offering any explanation hadn’t been the right way to do it, though.

  She knew that, of course, but escaping uncomfortable situations was so much easier than facing them. She’d done it all her life. Joyce could have accepted it, and they would never have seen each other again outside of the clinic. But Joyce had pushed her instead. She’d refused to give up on their friendship so easily, and Amanda was grateful for it now.

  She was glad too that she’d expressed her feelings. Joyce had forced her to be honest about her disdain for social games and her absolute refusal to use someone or be used in friendship for any reason. While Doug’s warning still bothered her, she wanted to give Joyce the benefit of the doubt. She’d basically admitted being the woman Doug had described. She’d also confirmed that she didn’t want to play games anymore. People sometimes claimed they’d changed when it wasn’t true, but she was hopeful.

  Amanda smiled as the familiar Subaru approached and Joyce waved at her. She’d come. Her heart jumped with joy and relief. She waved back and watched as Joyce stopped her car in a parking spot that had miraculously opened up on the busy street just as Joyce arrived.

  She watched admiringly as Joyce walked toward her, her thick, silver hair bouncing and another elegant silk scarf around her neck. This one was royal blue and matched the Capri pants she wore with a white sleeveless blouse. Her appearance was always so impeccable. Amanda felt like a remnant of the grunge era compared to her. Everyone around them seemed to agree, taking in Joyce’s natural sophistication while ignoring her. She was virtually invisible. She was okay with that. She wanted to be invisible. That might be difficult, however, once she was seen with Joyce.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late. I was fighting with Dingo and that damn Elizabethan collar,” Joyce explained as she hugged Amanda.

  The sensation of feeling Joyce’s body against hers left Amanda paralyzed and unable to return the brief embrace. Her mind was clogged with the mouth-watering smell of her perfume, a delicate combination of flowers and fruit she tried to identify. Rose and apricot, perhaps, but there was more to it. When Joyce’s words finally registered, Amanda laughed nervously. “You’re late for a good cause then, so you’re forgiven.”

  “I knew you’d understand. Have you been waiting long?”

  “About ten minutes, but I was enjoying the morning sun. Don’t worry about it, really. It’s okay.”

  “You’re kind, thank you. Shall we?” Joyce asked as she extended her arm toward the front door of the restaurant. “I’m starving.”

  “Of course. Let’s go.” Am
anda hurried to the door and opened it for Joyce, who smiled and gently squeezed her arm to thank her as she walked into the café.

  They waited in line for a few minutes and when their turn came Amanda ordered the breakfast sandwich Joyce recommended. Joyce then grabbed the large green tea latte she’d ordered and Amanda followed her with a large black coffee. They sat at one end of a long table sitting eight people. The few times Amanda had visited the café, she’d sat alone with her laptop at the counter lining the front windows. She’d seen other people share the large family-size tables of the café with complete strangers and had thought it would make her uncomfortable. As she sat across from Joyce, however, she found it easy to focus on her and forget that strangers were sitting right next to them.

  When their number was called, Joyce asked her to keep an eye on her purse while she went to pick up their food. When Joyce came back she attacked her sandwich with a voracity that clashed with her usual proper manners.

  Amanda couldn’t help but laugh. “You weren’t kidding, were you? You really were starving.”

  “Oh my god, I’m being a pig, aren’t I?” Joyce said as she put the sandwich down and wiped her mouth with a napkin.

  “No, please, have at it. It’s fun to watch.”

  They laughed together and Amanda had a bite of her own sandwich. The flavors of the bread, sausage, cheese, and well-seasoned eggs mixed together in ways that exceeded Amanda’s expectations. She expressed her pleasure with a moan that surprised her. “Wow, it is good.”

  “Right?”

  “Mhm,” Amanda offered simply, her mouth already too full to speak again.

  They ate in silence for a few more minutes until Joyce put her sandwich down. “I have to slow down,” she said before she took a deep breath. Amanda felt her gaze focus on her. “You know what I’ve realized this morning?”

  “No, what is that?” Amanda asked after she swallowed a bite of sandwich nervously.

  “I don’t even know where you’re from. I know you worked in Portland before. Is that where you grew up?”