Dingo's Recovery

Home > Other > Dingo's Recovery > Page 8
Dingo's Recovery Page 8

by Genevieve Fortin


  “No. Boston,” Amanda answered. She didn’t like talking about her childhood. It wasn’t filled with happy memories and she didn’t want people to feel bad for her. Of course, Joyce wasn’t the type to leave it at that.

  “Wow, big city girl, huh? How was it? Tell me about your childhood. Your family.”

  Amanda sighed, looking for a way to tell Joyce the truth without making it sound as bad as it was. “There isn’t much to say. I was raised by a single mother and we didn’t have any extended family so I spent a lot of time alone.”

  “She was working all the time, I imagine. It must have been hard for her to leave you on your own.”

  Amanda sighed again. She was tempted to simply go with Joyce’s hypothesis, but her need to be truthful was stronger. “You could say that. She worked a lot at finding her next drink, high, or boyfriend, that’s for sure.”

  “Oh, Amanda. I’m so sorry,” Joyce said as she covered her hand with hers.

  Although Amanda enjoyed the touch, Joyce’s reaction was exactly what she didn’t want. Pity.

  “Don’t be. I don’t feel sorry for myself,” she said more defensively than she’d intended. Her tone was abrupt, and she regretted it immediately. Joyce took her hand away, seemingly shocked and hurt by her rude reply. Amanda took a deep breath and spoke with a softer voice. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to react that way. It’s just, you see, I’ve never wanted people to feel sorry for me. My mother was not a great role model, that’s true, but it didn’t stop me from achieving my goals. I’m not a sad story.”

  “Obviously. I mean, you’ve clearly made quite a success of yourself. But it saddens me to know you had to do it all on your own. I can’t help it.”

  “Thank you, but I’m not the first person to be raised that way and I won’t be the last. I don’t want anyone’s pity, that’s all.”

  “It’s not pity, I assure you. It’s compassion. And a whole lot of admiration for what you’ve managed to achieve,” Joyce replied with a gentle smile. Her hand was back on Amanda’s, warm and comforting.

  Amanda closed her eyes, fighting back tears. She cleared her throat before she spoke, but her voice still came out as a rough whisper. “Thank you. I guess I’m not used to compassion.”

  “Yet you’re one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met. That in itself is quite an accomplishment, young lady.”

  She was able to return Joyce’s smile this time and felt compelled to tell her more. “I think I owe that to Mrs. Evans. She was in charge of the animal shelter where I started volunteering when I was twelve. I’d heard about it in school and I loved animals. Besides, I needed to get away from home as much as possible. I guess you could say Mrs. Evans took me under her wing. She showed me how to take care of the animals. She was patient and always found time for me.” This time tears escaped and fell to her cheeks and Amanda quickly wiped them away with her napkin.

  “Thank god for people like Mrs. Evans,” Joyce said softly. “And I bet you owe a lot to those animals too, huh?”

  “Oh yes. They were my best friends in the whole wide world. You see, Joyce, I’ve been blessed in many ways. I don’t let my mother define me.”

  “I do see. And what I see is so very beautiful.”

  In that moment Amanda melted under the warmth of Joyce’s hand and the heat of her eyes. The sensation was as comforting as her thick sweater yet much more gratifying. Her whole being was heated up, but she felt naked, as if she was being seen for the first time. She wanted Joyce to see all of her. So she kept talking, revelling in how easy Joyce made it for her to do so. She lost count of the number of strangers who sat next to them at the large table and left as she talked about her journey to Bangor.

  She shared how Mrs. Evans let her watch when the veterinarian came to take care of the shelter’s animals and how that experience made her want to go to veterinary school. She talked about how hard she worked in high school to keep her grades up so she could earn the grants she needed for a college education.

  “I haven’t seen my mom since I left to go to college. To the best of my knowledge she’s never made any attempt to contact me. Never responded to my invitation for her to attend my graduation. That’s when I gave up.”

  Joyce listened, mostly. She smiled, nodded, squeezed her hand on a few occasions, but mostly, she listened. And Amanda realized how much she’d needed that.

  “I don’t know about you, but I’d really like to take that walk now. Maybe not to burn off the calories, but to digest all these emotions,” she said with a laugh. She was glad she’d shared so much with Joyce, but she was left feeling bare, stripped of all of her defenses. She needed to move.

  “Indeed. Let’s go. I’ve always wanted to try that trail,” Joyce agreed without hesitation. They emptied their tray in the trash and recycling bins and left the restaurant. She hadn’t been wrong to trust Joyce, Amanda thought. It was so easy to talk to her. So natural. She felt close to her. Too easy? Too natural? Too close?

  As they walked through Norumbega Parkway, Joyce stopped in front of the Lady Victory War Memorial. Dedicated to those who died in all wars, it was a beautiful bronze and granite statue of Lady Victory holding two lit torches. She’d stopped to admire the statue many times before, but today she couldn’t help but think that a similar memorial could and should be erected for children like Amanda, who succeeded despite the odds, children who hadn’t been given the privileges that others like her niece seemed to take for granted.

  She glanced at the young woman standing beside her and was filled with pride and affection. The admiration she’d begun to feel for Amanda had multiplied infinitely during their breakfast conversation. Now more than ever she was convinced she was an exceptional woman and she wanted to be in her company as often as she could. She caressed Amanda’s shoulder in a caring touch she couldn’t keep to herself. They smiled at each other and resumed walking. She fought the urge to hold her hand, to stand even closer to her as they walked side by side. The attraction she felt for her was powerful. But it was not sexual, or so she rationalized. It was the appeal of the hero, like being drawn to an Olympic medalist or a rock star.

  “So, what do you think?” Amanda asked, interrupting Joyce’s reverie.

  Slightly startled, she turned to Amanda, who stood with arms wide open and pivoted slowly, bringing Joyce’s attention to their surroundings. “Pretty cool, no?”

  “Oh yes, yes, it’s beautiful. I almost forgot we were in the city two minutes ago.” The sound and feel of the packed dirt and gravel trail under her shoes was so comforting compared to the city sidewalk. The smell of the honey locust and red maple trees that lined up the trail was sweet and invigorating and the melody of the fresh water running down to the Kenduskeag Stream was so relaxing. Joyce enjoyed the walk.

  “The trail is about two miles long. I can’t wait to see what it looks like in the fall when the leaves change colors. We could come back with Dingo when he’s recovered. If you want,” Amanda suggested timidly.

  “I’d love to. And I’m sure he would too. I do a lot of yoga but I should do this more often. It’s an interesting change of scenery.”

  “There are so many parks around here I want to explore. I usually hike alone but if you and Dingo want to tag along, I’d like that very much.”

  Amanda’s smile was so sweet and inviting. “We will, then. It’s actually pretty funny to think I’ve lived here all my life and you’ll be the one introducing me to our hiking trails.”

  Amanda chuckled and seemed to hesitate before she added, “Maybe we have stuff to teach each other. I would never have gone to the state fair without you. Even sitting at a table with strangers like we did in the café is a challenge for me. You’re pushing my boundaries and I think that’s good for me.”

  “Great. I can keep doing that. But tell me if I push too far, okay?”

  “Deal.”

  They exchanged smiles and Joyce wondered if Amanda was as happy as she was at the thought of doing more activities toge
ther. They were making indefinite but long-term plans. Joyce’s heart beat a little faster as she tried to think of the next adventure she could propose that would take Amanda out of her comfort zone without making her too anxious.

  “So,” Amanda said, interrupting her thoughts again. “I pretty much bared my soul at the café, but I don’t know much about you yet.”

  “I see where this is going,” Joyce said with a laugh. “Ask me anything you want, my dear. I’m an open book.” Amanda blushed, obviously embarrassed by the question she wanted to ask. Joyce knew the color on her cheeks wasn’t due to the exercise or the heat. She was in great shape—her breathing had barely accelerated despite their rapid pace—and heat didn’t affect her if the thick sweater she was still wearing was any indication. She, on the other hand, could feel sweat trickling down her spine and forehead and would have loosened her silk scarf if she wasn’t so self conscious about what that might reveal. “Go ahead and ask. Don’t be shy,” she encouraged Amanda.

  “Okay, well, I was hoping you would tell me a little more about Evelyn.”

  Joyce flinched unexpectedly. For some reason, of all the things she’d imagined Amanda could want to learn more about, Evelyn had never been an option. She felt awkward bringing her wife into a conversation with Amanda, although she couldn’t explain why. “Evelyn. Okay. What about her would you like to know?”

  “Anything you want to share. What kind of woman was she? How did you meet?”

  Joyce laughed, going back to the holiday office party where Evelyn had first spoken to her. “She saved me from Dan Murdoch.” Joyce turned to Amanda, who squinted at her, confused. “I’d been hired at the bank in November so when I went to the holiday party I didn’t know anyone besides the people I worked with every day. This guy, Dan Murdoch, kept asking me to dance with him. The drunker he got the more insistent he became. He was such a sleaze.”

  “So Evelyn came to the rescue and asked you to dance?” Amanda offered.

  “Oh god no. We were together for over twenty years before we finally came out at the office. Things were different back then, you know.” Amanda nodded. “So no, Evelyn didn’t ask me to dance. But she and Dan’s wife were old high school friends, so Evelyn called her and said Dan had too much to drink and was making an ass of himself. Mrs. Murdoch came and dragged Dan out of the party in no time. I was so relieved.”

  “But how did you find out Evelyn was behind it?”

  “Oh, she made sure to tell me. A few minutes after Dan left with his wife Evelyn walked up to me and announced that he wouldn’t be bothering me anymore. She winked at me to make sure I understood. She was tall and handsome and so charming. After that she invited me to a few parties at her house. There were only women at her parties, of course, and I quickly understood what it was all about. Evelyn only had eyes for me though, and it didn’t take long before I moved in with her. We were together for twenty-eight years until…”

  “She passed away,” Amanda said softly.

  “Yes.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  “It was. But we had so many wonderful years. We built a comfortable life together. And death is how lasting love ends in real life, unfortunately. Nothing like books or movies.” Joyce looked to the sky to battle threatening tears and took a deep breath. When she looked at Amanda again, she hoped her smile was convincing. Talking about Evelyn still hurt.

  “You loved her very much. It shows,” Amanda whispered as she briefly placed her hand on Joyce’s lower back. The touch was hesitant but comforting.

  “Very much indeed. She was my first love. My only love.” Joyce took another breath before she added, “But toward the end I didn’t love myself that much.” Her revelation shocked her as much as it did Amanda. She never shared that part of her story with anyone before, not even Barbara.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I let Evelyn make all the decisions in our life. I became a proper woman with proper social standing, living in the proper neighborhood and doing all the proper activities, but I knew that wasn’t really me. Even though I didn’t know who the real me was, I knew that wasn’t it. Since Evelyn’s death I’ve been trying to connect with the person I really want to be. It’s a long process,” she explained. She turned to Amanda and smiled timidly. “You know I’ve never admitted that to anyone before now? They wouldn’t understand. Especially my sister. She and Evelyn had a lot in common.”

  Amanda smiled in return and placed her hand on Joyce’s back again. This time her touch was firmer and lasted longer. “Well, I’m glad you trust me enough to share this with me. I think it’s important to find out who you really are and want to be, even if it’s a long process. I know who I am and I’ve known for a long time, but I’ve always stayed away from social expectations and obligations. I think they tend to complicate things.”

  Joyce laughed out loud. “You’re so right. And so wise. It seems like you’ve understood at a very young age things I’m barely beginning to understand now. It’s amazing.” Amanda blushed and smiled with pride at the compliment. Joyce gently took hold of her arm, forcing them to walk closer together. She couldn’t resist the pull any longer. They’d shared too much. “I think that’s why I’m telling you all of this. Somehow I have a feeling you have an important role to play in my process.”

  “Oh? And what role would that be?”

  “I’m not sure yet. It’s just a feeling I have.”

  “I see.”

  They walked all the way to the end of the trail and turned around. As they approached Franklin Street and the inevitable end of their time together, Joyce felt the urge to make plans for their next outing. Something fun and exciting. Something Amanda wouldn’t think of doing on her own. And idea flashed through her mind. “What are you doing next Saturday?”

  “I had nothing planned, but I’m guessing you have something in mind,” Amanda said with an enthusiastic smile.

  “I do. Something I bet you’ve never done.”

  “I don’t doubt it. What is it?”

  “Did you know there’s a casino in Bangor?”

  “A casino?” Amanda’s expression became of mix of fear and excitement.

  “Yes. A casino. We’ll have so much fun. Say yes.” Amanda laughed louder than she usually did, which she took as encouragement. She stopped walking and took a hold of Amanda’s shoulders, forcing her to look into her eyes. “Come on. Say yes.”

  “Yes. As if I could say anything else.”

  “Good girl. You won’t regret it.” Joyce threw her arms around Amanda’s shoulders and hugged her.

  She was stunned when Amanda hugged her back, her strong arms closing around her waist and pulling her tight against her body. The long embrace marked a new level of intimacy in their friendship, and Joyce allowed herself to get lost in the younger woman’s arms until Amanda pulled away. As they walked the rest of the way to Amanda’s building, she caught herself hoping she would invite her upstairs. She couldn’t bring herself to say goodbye.

  That’s exactly what she did though. She told Amanda she’d call her to make definite plans for their adventure at the casino and Amanda disappeared into the condominium complex, leaving her alone on the sidewalk with a heart that felt both light and heavy all at once.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Holding the Upward-Facing Dog Pose—her favorite—Joyce tried to focus on her breathing. Every summer morning, unless it rained, she took her yoga mat outside to the backyard. The view there of the Penobscot River was as serene as it was breathtaking and she was convinced the fresh air made her breathing exercises even more beneficial. Today, however, the view and fresh air didn’t seem to be helping her control her own thoughts. She switched positions and sat in the Perfect Pose, legs crossed, hands open and wrists resting on her knees. She closed her eyes and tried to center her energy, but she was distracted when she heard Dingo sigh loudly. Looking to her left, she saw that he was on his side in the middle of his dog pen, sunbathing.

  Dingo also enjoyed the
ir time outside. She’d purchased the dog pen so she could bring him out to the backyard with her without having to hold his leash. Even with his injured leg, she didn’t trust him not to run away. The pen measured eight feet by six feet, large enough for him to explore without overdoing it and sniff all the grass he wanted before he lay back down. She regretted the fact that she would no longer be able to use it once he recovered. As soon as his leg was back to normal, he would easily jump over its four-foot-high walls. They would need to resume their daily trips to the park then or go explore hiking trails with Amanda. She smiled at the thought. “You will love that, little brat. You’ll see.” She sighed with frustration.

  No matter what she tried, her thoughts always went back to Amanda. Her eyes or her smile would flash through her mind or she’d remember something she’d said. The trees reminded her of the walk they’d shared. And Dingo, well, of course she thought of Amanda every time she looked at his leg.

  “There you are! I’ve been knocking at the front door for ten minutes,” Barbara yelled from the back porch. “I decided to let myself in. You should really lock your door, you know,” she continued without any regard for Joyce’s obvious meditation pose.

  Joyce sighed again. Oh well, it wasn’t like she was going to reach inner peace this morning anyway. “Hi Barb, how are you doing on this beautiful Wednesday morning?” she asked as she rolled up her yoga mat.

  “Terrible. I’ve been crazy busy organizing this gala for the chamber of commerce. I could use your help, you know.”

  “Not interested. I’ve told you already.” Joyce left the yoga mat on the porch and grabbed the silk scarf she’d left there, quickly rolling it around her neck, sensing that Barbara was staring at her neck the entire time. She knew Joyce wore them to hide her neck and had supported her decision to do so. While Joyce would never mention her sister’s wrinkles to spare her feelings, Barbara never missed a chance to remind her of her flaws. She was judgmental to the bone. Joyce hated herself for being so self-conscious around her sister, whose designer skirt and blazer contrasted with her own yoga pants and tank top. How she longed for the day she wouldn’t care what Barbara thought of her attire. Would that day ever come?

 

‹ Prev