by Terri DuLong
“You’re quiet today,” Iris said as we placed brightly colored ornaments on the tree branches. “Everything okay?”
I let out a deep sigh and shook my head. “Not really. Something happened yesterday at Petco that is really bothering me.”
I proceeded to explain the whole encounter to them. “So I feel like a total shit,” I said when I finished.
“Oh, my,” Mavis Anne said as she straightened a shiny silver ball. “That sounds like a sticky situation. I never had children myself, but I do know parents get funny about people interfering.”
“Right,” I agreed. “And making it worse, I’m a complete stranger.”
Yarrow gave me a pat on the back. “Yeah, but gee, you didn’t mean any harm. You were only trying to help the little boy who wanted the dog.”
Iris nodded. “Yarrow’s right. It was innocent on your part. But it’s true that getting between a parent and child can be tricky.”
“I just feel terrible,” I said. “Bad enough the poor boy lost his mother, but I made it worse by suggesting that if she was there, maybe he would have the dog. And there was just something about him that tugged at me. He looked sad and lost. I think I felt that a dog might help.”
“No doubt it would,” Mavis Anne said. “But it seems the father doesn’t agree.”
“Which just goes to show you why I have no children.” I stepped back to assess our work on the tree. “I know nothing about them and end up saying the wrong thing.”
“I don’t think that’s true,” Iris said. “You’re a great mom to Lotte.”
I smiled but couldn’t help thinking that being a mom to Lotte and being a mom to a boy like Jonah were miles apart.
“The tree looks gorgeous,” I said, wanting to change the subject. “I think we’re ready for the garland and bows.”
When we completed the entire tree, the four of us stood back and agreed we had done an outstanding job.
“Now we’re ready to switch the lights on,” I said, reaching to plug the strands in.
Oohs and aahs filled the room. The white fairy lights were the finishing touch and added exactly the festive atmosphere we had hoped for.
“Okay,” I said. “We earned ourselves a glass of wine, and I made a pot of coffee.” I headed to the kitchen and returned with wineglasses and mugs on a tray.
“Is Louise feeling any better?” I asked.
“I spoke to her this morning,” Mavis Anne said. “No. Not really. She’s going to see the doctor tomorrow.”
“And now Chloe is sick too?”
“Yes, Henry called earlier to say she couldn’t join us today. She woke up coughing this morning. It seems to be going around. If she can’t make it into the shop tomorrow, do you think you could help me out, Iris?”
She took a sip of coffee and nodded. “Of course I can. Just give me a call. I’d be happy to spend the day at the yarn shop.”
We all laughed because we knew that for any knitter this was never an imposition.
“Have you heard from Isabelle in New York?” I asked Iris.
“Yes, she called yesterday and said they were having a great time shopping. They’ll be back tomorrow.”
“Ever since that girl got married, we barely see her at the yarn shop,” Mavis Anne said, and I sensed a trace of annoyance in her tone. “Did she stop knitting just because she got married?”
Iris shrugged. “I can’t begin to figure Isabelle out. I seldom hear from her and when I do it’s a rushed, brief conversation. How about you, Petra? Have you seen much of her since you got here?”
I shook my head. “No. Only last weekend when she came to dinner at Mavis Anne’s. She forgot about our lunch plans and ended up canceling.”
“Well, that’s not unusual for Isabelle,” Iris said. “She can get quite wrapped up in her own life . . . to the exclusion of others.”
I really couldn’t recall this happening very much during the years of my friendship with Isabelle, but then I realized that the few times she had grown quiet or drifted away, I was always the one who made the effort to get in touch. I wondered what would happen if I now chose not to.
* * *
I didn’t have to wonder too long because the next evening Isabelle called, gushing with excitement about her shopping spree in the Big Apple.
“It sounds like it was a fun time,” I said.
“Oh, it was. Listen, I want to get together with you for lunch. Are you free on Wednesday?”
The one day I had plans. “No, actually, I’m not. I’m committed to volunteer at the shelter from ten till two.”
“The what?” she asked, and I remembered I hadn’t even had a chance to tell her about my new work.
“I’m volunteering at the animal shelter,” I explained. “Louise is involved and got me interested.”
“Oh,” she said, but just that one word led me to think she couldn’t begin to understand why on earth I’d want to do something like this. I recalled how Haley had had to beg and cajole to bring her beloved Ginger home from the shelter. And in the end, it was really Iris who had made that happen for her granddaughter. “Well, okay. Are you free tomorrow? I think I could see my way clear to taking an hour or so. Why don’t we say noon at Panera’s? We’ll be able to get in and out fast.”
Obviously this wasn’t going to be a chatty, leisurely, girlfriend lunch, catching up on all of our news, complete with wine.
“Sure. Fine,” I said. “I’ll meet you there tomorrow at twelve noon.”
I hung up the phone and continued cleaning up the supper dishes. As I washed the plate and bowl from my soup and sandwich, for the first time since I’d been friends with Isabelle, it hit me that what we shared tended to be one-sided.
Various incidents popped into my head. Like our senior year in high school when we spent so much time shopping for the perfect prom gown for her that I was left with only a couple of days to make my own choice and settled for a gown I wasn’t crazy about. Or the time in college when she begged me to nurse her through a hangover brought on by her drinking way too much at a frat party. And after being up all night with her, I showed up late the following morning for my final exam in economics, knocking my grade down a few points.
And of course during the grueling weeks and months after she discovered her husband, Roger, was gay, I was there every step of the way for her. If not always there in person, I was a text or phone call away. Even at three in the morning when she had drunk too much and would call me to cry and complain about the injustice of Roger and her life.
Yes, our friendship had pretty much always been one-sided. Yet I had always overlooked it, because I loved Isabelle like a sister, and when she wasn’t totally wrapped up in herself, she could be a loving and compassionate friend.
I let out a sigh, and Lotte’s head popped up from her paws. She looked at me expectantly, hoping for a treat.
I reached into the biscuit jar on the counter and said, “Here ya go. Mama’s going on the patio to knit.”
By the time I was ready for bed around eleven, my head was swimming with thoughts of not only Isabelle but also the young boy I had only met once. I couldn’t seem to get Jonah out of my mind, and I wondered if he’d ever get the dog he longed for.
I woke around four in the morning from what I was sure had been a dream. I sat on the edge of the bed and shook my head. I had been staying at Koi House not quite two weeks and I hadn’t given much thought to Emmalyn, the original occupant of my room. And yet she had been the focus of my dream.
She was exactly as Chloe and Isabelle had described her—with long, flowing auburn hair, wearing a beautiful red gown. And she had been seated on the sofa in my room.
“Sometimes your past isn’t just your past,” she had said. “Sometimes your past can be your future.”
Even in the dream I didn’t understand what she was saying.
“What does my past have to do with anything?” I had questioned.
“Probably everything,” she replied.
&nbs
p; And then I woke up.
As I headed to the bathroom I realized that since I had come to stay at Koi House I hadn’t made one attempt to research or locate my father. Was that what she had been talking about? But even more important, how the hell could I now be having these dreams about Emmalyn just as Chloe and Isabelle had? It made no sense. No sense at all.
Chapter 7
I had arrived at Panera Bread before Isabelle and ordered myself a bowl of soup. She came rushing into the restaurant a few minutes later, looked around, saw me waving from a table, and came over to place a kiss on my cheek before plunking down in the chair opposite me.
“You look frazzled,” I said.
“Yeah, I’m about to close my first real estate deal. Well, technically Chadwick will close the deal as I haven’t taken my exam yet. We’re meeting with the clients at two. I’m pretty sure they’re going to make an offer.”
“That’s wonderful. You seem to enjoy your new job.”
“I do. I feel a sense of accomplishment, showing potential buyers a home, finding one that’s perfect for them.”
“Well, you need nourishment, so go get your lunch.”
She nodded. “Be right back.”
When she returned she only had a cup of coffee.
“Aren’t you eating?” I asked.
“Too nervous to eat. So . . . catch me up. What’s going on in your life since you got here? Do you like it? How’s living at Koi House going for you?”
Before she’d arrived, it seemed I had a million things to tell her. About my volunteering at the shelter. About meeting a young boy named Jonah. About my dream of the night before. But sitting here across from her now, it all seemed foolish and unimportant. It certainly couldn’t compare to selling your first house or flying to Manhattan for a weekend of Christmas shopping.
“Yeah,” I said. “Everything’s going really well. I love Koi House. Lotte and I are settling in. We’re having a Christmas gathering there on the eighteenth for the customers at the yarn shop. The tree is all decorated and Marta will be making the pastries. You will come, won’t you?”
I noticed her head had been bent over her cell phone as I talked, and I wondered if she had even heard what I’d said.
“Isabelle?”
Her head shot up. “Right. Yes, my mother mentioned the Christmas tea to me. I’ll definitely be there. Anything I can bring?”
“No, I don’t think so, but I’ll let you know. So I take it married life is agreeing with you?”
She smiled and nodded. “Very much so. Chadwick has changed my whole life.”
I had no doubt that she loved him. A lot. But I knew that his wealth made that love even sweeter. And I also knew that Isabelle had always been attracted to the material things in life. But I wouldn’t let myself think that his bank account had led in any way to their recent marriage.
“So what’s with working at the shelter?” she asked. “God, Petra, you’re not going to rescue another dog, are you?”
I felt annoyed that she would even question my right to adopt another dog if I chose to do that. And the thought flitted through my mind that maybe that was how Jonah’s father had felt when I took the liberty of mentioning the boy’s mother.
“I’m not working there. I’m volunteering. They need help so I assisted for a few hours on Saturday at Petco for the adoptions. I’ll be doing a few hours a week at the shelter, answering the phone and helping out there.”
Isabelle shook her head and laughed. “You know . . . you would have made some kid a great mom. I still don’t understand why you don’t like kids.”
Her frankness bothered me. We had had this conversation a few times over the years, and she knew it wasn’t that I didn’t like kids. I just had no experience with them. I was an only child, had never done any babysitting or been exposed to small children. I recalled how uneasy I’d been with Haley when she was a baby, but by the time she reached four or five, she had become a little person I quite enjoyed—in small doses.
“You know that’s not true,” I told her. “It isn’t that I dislike kids. They’re just foreign to me.”
She waved a hand in the air. “I know. I know. I’m just giving you a hard time. But I do think you take all of your maternal instincts and focus them on your dogs.”
Now I was definitely annoyed. “And what’s wrong with that?” I demanded.
“Hey, nothing,” she said, holding up her palm in defeat. She glanced at her watch. “I’m really sorry, Pet, but I have to go.”
She got up and hugged me to her chest. “We’re okay, right?”
I nodded and felt the kiss she placed on the top of my head.
“Good. I promise to call you and we’ll have a nice long lunch. But I have to run. Love you,” she said, and with that she was gone, and I sat staring at my bowl of cold soup.
Isabelle might have been in a rush, but I decided to prolong my lunch. I got up and went to the counter and ordered a cookie and a cup of coffee. Bringing it back to the table, I thought about what she had said. Maybe she was right. I had never been like a lot of other women, dying to get married and have children. It just wasn’t anything that excited me. I had always been completely happy with my own company, doing things the way I liked, not having to compromise with another person. All of this was probably one of the major reasons why any relationships I had eventually fizzled out.
And children? I just never had a burning, all-consuming desire to get pregnant and spend the rest of my life raising that child. But dogs? Yeah, different story. I had loved dogs ever since I could remember. I seemed to resonate with them. Understand their sadness or happiness, their joy over the smallest things, and their love truly is unconditional. No matter what. They loved me. And I loved them back. There was nothing wrong with any of this. So what was nagging at me?
I knew exactly what it was. A scrawny young boy, with hair that flopped onto his forehead and who wore black-framed glasses. I had looked up, seen him standing there, and an emotion that was completely alien to me had emerged. And since Saturday afternoon I hadn’t been able to get the boy out of my mind.
As if I had conjured him up, I took a sip of coffee and saw him enter the restaurant, not with his father but with a middle-aged woman. Probably his grandmother, I thought.
He saw me immediately and came running to my table.
“Hey, Petra. Do you remember me? I’m Jonah. From Petco.”
I laughed and nodded. “I do remember you. How are you?”
The woman had followed him and put an arm around his shoulder. “Jonah, are you bothering this woman?”
“No,” he said. “She’s my friend. I met her at Petco on Saturday when I went there with Dad.”
The woman laughed. “Oh, okay.” She put her hand out to shake mine. “I’m Jonah’s nanny.”
“Yeah,” Jonah said. “This is Miss Betsy. She watches me when my dad’s at work.”
I smiled and returned her greeting. So the boy was cared for by a nanny, not even a bona fide grandmother. I found this to be sad.
“Did Lucy and Ethel get adopted?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No, I’m afraid they didn’t.”
But instead of feeling bad, Jonah seemed delighted. “Oh, that’s good. Then I still have a chance to get them. Are they still at the shelter?”
“They are. I’ll see them tomorrow when I volunteer there. I’ll be sure to say hello for you.”
“Really? That would be great. Thanks.”
“Okay, now come along, Jonah,” his nanny said. “Let’s get your cookie. We can’t be late for your piano lesson.”
“Bye, Petra,” he said. “I’ll see you again soon.”
After they left the restaurant, I sat there pondering two things that had occurred—Jonah had said he’d see me again, and he’d said I was his friend.
I knew nothing about this boy named Jonah. But one thing I did know for certain. He was right. I was his friend.
Rhonda January 1969
The days
seemed to be sliding one into the other and before I knew it, we had been working at Broadglen’s for two weeks. It was going really well, and the tips were even better than I’d hoped for. So I was able to begin saving some money.
But I had to admit that the highlight for me was getting assigned to the Maxwell family table on the weekends. They were totally out of my league. I knew that. But it didn’t stop me from falling head over heels for the son who accompanied his father and two sisters to dinner.
The first night I waited on them, Franklin Maxwell introduced himself and then pointed to his three children. The younger sister seemed to be about sixteen and the older one probably in her late twenties. They both smiled when their father made the introductions. But it was the son I had difficulty taking my eyes off. I thought he was probably about six or seven years older than me. Wearing a sport jacket and tie, he reminded me of a successful businessman. His dark eyes locked with mine as he gave me a huge smile. By the time the evening was over, I was certain the only time I’d seen a fellow quite this good looking was when I skimmed through one of Cynthia’s movie magazines.
On the second weekend of my employment I wasted no time checking the reservation book on Friday morning. There it was: the name Maxwell booked for seven o’clock. I smiled before returning to the dining room to assist with the breakfast clean-up.
Cynthia and I had a couple of hours before returning for our lunch shift, so we went back to our cabin to relax. This was our time to catch up with each other and gossip. I knew she had had her first date with Earle the night before and I was ready to hear the details.
“So how did your date go?” I asked.
She sat in the chair next to me on our porch and stretched her legs up to the railing before lighting a cigarette. Blowing out the smoke, she turned to me and smiled with a coy expression on her face.
“I’d say it went well. Very well.”
I shifted in my seat to get a better look at her expression. “Really? Then you like him?”
