The Good, the Bad & the Beagle

by Burns, Catherine Lloyd

  * * *

  She kept her own company in her shiva. She gathered her books on her way to bed. She passed her mother, who was sitting on the couch sorting mail.

  “Veronica,” Mrs. Morgan said. “I want you to take a shower. You have to take care of yourself. Daddy and I are worried.”

  There was no wooden furniture in the living room or Veronica would have sat down.

  “Something came for you,” her mother said. She handed Veronica a square red envelope.

  She recognized Sarah-Lisa’s slanty handwriting immediately.

  “Well then, open it,” her mother said. Veronica slid her finger under the flap and pulled out a pink card. There must have been a mistake. It was an invitation to Sarah-Lisa’s Valentine’s Day party.

  She didn’t understand why she had been invited to Sarah-Lisa’s Valentine’s Day party and then she remembered something Melody had said early on. Randolf was inclusive. Everyone was invited to everything.

  “What is it, honey?”

  “An invitation.”

  * * *

  The next day after school, Mary handed Veronica more mail. This time a package. Under the brown paper were many layers of bubble wrap and tape. Whatever it was had been wrapped like something very precious. She peeled back the last layer and opened the cardboard box and in a nest of white tissue paper discovered the wooden box that contained Cadbury’s ashes. She held it next to her heart. She didn’t ever want to let it out of her hands.

  “Yeah, but I think it’s best if you put it down somewhere,” Mary said. “You will be upset if you drop it and it spills.”

  Veronica decided to put the ashes on her nightstand next to Cadbury’s collar. Mary approved.

  “This came too,” Mary said. She handed Veronica another package, much smaller and even more carefully wrapped than the first. This one required scissors. When everything was peeled away, Veronica discovered a sculpted silver rose wrapped around a small glass vial.

  There was a note from Esme.

  Dear Veronica,

  I want you to know that you were the very best owner Cadbury could ever have had. I know your time together was too short but you couldn’t have made him feel more loved had he lived to be a hundred. I bought you this necklace so you could put some of his ashes inside if you want to. That way he can be close to your heart at all times. I am sorry for your loss, Veronica. It is gigantic. Maybe this story will help. It helped me.

  Yours,

  Esme

  On a separate page Esme had enclosed:

  When a special animal dies, that animal goes to a place that is covered with meadows and dotted with pretty flowers. Animals run and play all day. They always have enough food and water and every animal that was old, ill, injured, or maimed is restored to optimal health. This place is called Rainbow Bridge and it is wonderful. The animals have a nearly perfect life in Rainbow Bridge except that they miss someone who had to be left behind. One day an animal looks into the distance with bright eyes. He stops running. His ears prick. He leaves the group he was playing with and flies over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster. You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together. You look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never replaced in your heart. You reunite knowing you will never be separated again.

  The necklace came with a funnel and a tiny scoop. Veronica went right to work. Moments later, Cadbury was inside the necklace, around her neck. He was close to her heart. She put the box back on the table by her bed.

  She did shower. But she wore her torn uniform and her necklace to school the next day.

  To Care or Not to Care

  Wearing a torn blouse was against uniform regulations, but since she was persona non grata, Veronica didn’t think anyone would notice. She felt good in the wooden chair. Every room except the science lab, which had stools, had hard-backed wooden chairs. It was a mourner’s delight.

  “Veronica,” Sarah-Lisa said, “you should run home at lunch and put on a new shirt. It’s, like, ripped.”

  “It’s torn on purpose,” Veronica said. “I’m sitting shiva for my dog.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Sarah-Lisa said.

  “I am in a period of mourning.”

  Sarah-Lisa looked at Veronica like she was speaking in tongues. Veronica pressed her back against the slats of her wooden chair feeling almost saintly, like a monk wearing a hair shirt.

  Later, in art, Sylvie and Veronica were at the sink, washing paintbrushes. The water was warm and the soap felt soft against the bristles. Sylvie noticed Veronica’s necklace.

  “It’s filled with ashes,” Veronica told her.

  “Nice,” Sylvie said with a genuine smile. Veronica had expected Sylvie to flinch. But she didn’t.

  * * *

  At lunch, Athena put her tray down next to Veronica’s. Athena pushed her school lunch around while Veronica unpacked her cheddar cheese sandwich. Her mother had also put in a Tupperware of peeled pomegranate. The seeds glistened like jewels. Veronica ate a handful.

  “I’ve never seen a necklace like that,” Athena said. Veronica moved closer and let Athena hold it. “Is it an antique?” she asked.

  “No. It comes from a crematorium,” Sylvie said, piping in from out of nowhere as she so often did.

  Veronica held the vial up to the light.

  Melody and Sarah-Lisa walked over. Since Veronica’s outing as the person who was mean to Melody, Sarah-Lisa had taken Melody on like a charity case. Maybe all the A Team’s social atoms could rebond, allowing Athena and Veronica to attach while Sarah-Lisa and Melody could form a new and separate chemical chain.

  “What’s a crematorium?” Sarah-Lisa asked.

  “It’s where the remains of dead bodies are burned,” Athena said.

  How did Athena know things like that? She wasn’t one of those people whose heads were filled with useless facts so she could show off. She was just a person with too much life experience.

  “My dog, the one that died, that you met, is in there. Some of him.”

  “Oh my gosh,” Melody gasped.

  Veronica couldn’t tell if Melody was scared or fascinated by the necklace, or both.

  “Her dog’s ashes are in there?” Sarah-Lisa asked incredulously.

  “Yes, they are,” Veronica said. She looked right at Sarah-Lisa.

  “Let me see that,” Sarah-Lisa said. But she wouldn’t look at Veronica. She looked at the necklace. She put the vial in her hand. “There is no way her dog is in there.”

  “He is,” Veronica declared. Disturbing Sarah-Lisa with this information filled Veronica with a joyous sensation. “I mean, not all of him, but some of him,” Veronica added for good measure.

  “It’s touching,” Athena said.

  “It’s not touching,” Sarah-Lisa said, but she was still holding the necklace in her hand. “It’s disgusting.”

  “It is sort of disgusting,” Melody said, moving closer to Sarah-Lisa.

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t sit here with dead dog matter. Not during lunch,” Sarah-Lisa said, and let go of the necklace. She picked up her tray and left. Melody followed.

  “I think it’s interesting. To care that much,” Athena said. She smiled at Veronica before walking away to join Sarah-Lisa and Melody. Veronica watched them go, wondering if she would ever feel comfortable with them again.

  “It’s not interesting to care that much,” Sylvie said to Veronica when everyone was gone. “It’s necessary.”

  * * *

  Athena was waiting at Veronica’s locker after French. She was standing so close, Veronica could practically count her eyelashes.

  “Athena?” Veronica asked.

  “Yes,” Athena said.

  Veronica wanted to ask what she’d always wanted to ask: Why aren’t we best friends? But she sensed Sarah-Lisa coming around the corner any second and that was the answer to her question anyway. They weren’t best fri
ends because Sarah-Lisa got there first.

  “You should really come to Sarah-Lisa’s Valentine’s party. You haven’t come to one yet,” Athena said. “Sometimes parties cheer people up.”

  “Maybe,” Veronica said.

  “There are always strawberries the size of human fists there. And a chocolate fountain. You should really come.”

  Sarah-Lisa rounded the lockers and Veronica felt like she and Athena had been caught. Doing what? Talking? Sarah-Lisa always made Veronica feel bad about something.

  “Athena. Come,” Sarah-Lisa said. Athena stood between Veronica and Sarah-Lisa. Then she followed Sarah-Lisa down the hall like a good little doggie.

  Far Enough

  Ms. Padgett handed out progress reports at the end of the day. Veronica’s came with a letter, which she doubted was talking about her wonderful contributions to class. Her parents weren’t idiots—they had to know things weren’t going well. But she wasn’t looking forward to the discussion her parents were likely to engage her in after reading the letter. She came home and put the letter and the report under the flour jar on the kitchen counter. Maybe no one would see it.

  “What is this?” asked her father, holding up the letter. When you wanted him to notice things he saw nothing. But now, of course, his eyes were radar.

  Veronica was trying to think of ways to stall the inevitable. She didn’t want to watch her parents’ faces express disappointment.

  The buzzer from the intercom rang and saved her. There was a mad rush to set the table. Veronica and her father gathered plates and silverware while Marion Morgan dug in her purse frantically for her wallet. Everyone was so distracted Veronica actually thought she might get away without answering the original question.

  “What the hell is this?” Marvin Morgan asked again.

  Veronica felt a headache coming. Why didn’t he just open the envelope already?

  “Burritos,” his wife declared. She took the envelope out of his hand.

  “Burritos, oh boy!” he said. “Which one is mine?”

  “They’re all the same, veggie. It’s meatless Monday in the Morgan house. Pass the pico de gallo, please, and the sour cream.”

  “Marion?”

  “Marvin?”

  “It’s Friday.”

  “That is true, dear heart, but I forgot on Monday.” Her mother opened the envelope.

  Veronica winced. Her mother read it slowly and handed it to her father. “We expected your grades to take a bit of a beating,” her mother said. “But this business with Melody, that is not good. That is not something only limited to you. You took advantage of that girl and it seems like something that needs discussing.”

  “I didn’t take advantage of her. She handed in work with my name on it, but I never asked her to,” Veronica said.

  “This is yummy, by the way,” Marvin said, devouring his burrito.

  “Marvin.”

  “What?”

  “Please. Let Veronica talk.”

  Veronica didn’t want to reenter the fishbowl of her parents’ concern. She thought they were going to let Dr. Snope do his work and leave her alone. How did she feel about disappointing Ms. Padgett and basically lying about doing work on a project she had not done work on? She felt distinctly not good about it. But how could she have chosen schoolwork over spending time with Cadbury every second while she still had the chance? She still missed him and no matter what she tried to fill herself with—Scrabble games with Mary or cuddling with her mom—everything just trickled out and she was empty all over again.

  “I am grieving,” Veronica finally said because it was true and because she hoped it would end the discussion. “And,” she added, “I agree with Daddy, this burrito is good.”

  “That’s my girl!” her father said. There was nothing like discussing food to get the whole Morgan family off on a tangent. Veronica could probably murder someone but they would still enjoy talking about a new place to get take-out.

  “It’s that new place on Ninety-Ninth,” her mother added. “The fish tacos are supposed to be good too.”

  “Maybe we can have those on Monday. Fish doesn’t have meat in it,” Marvin said.

  Whatever hope Veronica had of changing the subject, or at least the dynamic in the room, disappeared because Marion Morgan looked at her husband like a child who had done something wrong. “I’m just saying,” he added sheepishly. Meanwhile, the child who was supposed to speak said nothing.

  “Honey,” her mother said, “you are grieving. And you are doing a beautiful job, but Daddy, Dr. Snope, and apparently Ms. Padgett, and I, for that matter, feel that you have perhaps retreated as far as is healthy. Right, Marvin?”

  “Yes,” Marvin replied.

  “Would you care to elaborate?” his wife asked.

  “No. I think you are doing a wonderful job. Pass the guacawhosie, please.”

  “Veronica, maybe it’s time to make some steps toward rejoining your life.”

  Veronica woke up every day. She went to school. She was doing what was required. What more could they ask of her?

  “You were starting to make friends. Friends can help you. It’s not good to wallow. You were invited to that Valentine’s party. Right?”

  “Yes,” Veronica said.

  “We think you should go.”

  “You told me to take my time!” Veronica said, genuinely dismayed.

  “Marvin,” Marion Morgan pleaded.

  “Yes,” Marvin said.

  “Help me.”

  My poor mother, Veronica thought.

  “Your mother thinks you should go to the Sarah-Lisa party,” her father said.

  “So do you,” her mother added.

  “So do I…”

  “So does Ms. Padgett. Sweetheart, it has been many weeks since we lost Cadbury.”

  “Would you like to finish, darling?” Marvin Morgan said pointedly. “You asked me to take over but you continue to interrupt. Perhaps you would be most comfortable if I stopped talking.”

  Marion Morgan put her burrito down and excused herself from the table. Discussions between her parents devolving into arguments were becoming commonplace. Marvin Morgan appeared to be caught between the urge to follow his wife and the instinct to stay with his daughter.

  “Sweetheart,” he said. “We love you. And we want you to find some kind of balance between your mourning and the life that is very much right in front of you. Ms. Padgett feels it is important for you to accept the gestures of friendship the girls in your community are making. We want you to go to that girl’s party.”

  “Honey, just try,” her mother said from the hall. “If it truly is unbearable we won’t stay long. But I think it is time to begin the process of normalization. Just act as if. Sometimes if you can’t do it, you fake it and eventually your feelings and your actions catch up with each other.”

  “But—” Veronica started to explain. She didn’t bother to finish though because the discussion was clearly over.

  Black and White

  Marion Morgan was Veronica’s escort to the party at Sarah-Lisa’s. That had to be a little better than Marvin coming too and eating too many appetizers and speaking too loudly. But Veronica still dreaded getting out of the elevator. Sarah-Lisa lived in the kind of apartment that had its own elevator. When the door opened, she and her mother were already inside the Carver apartment.

  “Take a look at this, would you!” Mrs. Morgan exclaimed. “Isn’t this something? We are just in the foyer, and it is already unbelievable!”

  Veronica stood next to her mother, feeling like a line drawing someone had taken an eraser to. She was smudgy, unsure, undefined.

  A maid dressed in a black uniform with a white apron scurried over. She took their coats and directed them to the living room at the end of a long hall. Everything everywhere was white: the walls, the floors, most of the furniture. If Mrs. Carver hadn’t come barreling down the hall toward them, Veronica thought they would have most likely gotten lost, the way people with sno
w blindness become hopelessly disoriented amid miles and miles of snow.

  “Welcome!” Mrs. Carver said. “Come in. Come in!” Veronica assumed Mrs. Carver was mixing them up with some other guests because there was no reason for her to be happy to see them or, for that matter, to even know who they were.

  “I am so glad you could join us,” Sarah-Lisa’s mother said, ushering them into a big room filled with more white furniture and unfamiliar people. “You are the mysterious new girl we’ve all been dying to meet. Sarah-Lisa had a wonderful time trick-or-treating with you and then you just disappeared. Went right off the radar.”

  She seemed genuine and nice. Maybe Sarah-Lisa was adopted. That would explain a lot of things.

  A waiter came by with a tray of champagne and another brought skewers of something grilled and arranged on giant leaves.

  “All the girls are waiting for you in Sarah-Lisa’s lair. I would have thought they would be gathered around the chocolate, but it just goes to show you what I know,” Sarah-Lisa’s mother said, munching a skewer. “Why don’t you go find them and let me chat with your mother.”

  Mrs. Carver was wearing a white dress that looked like a toga. It was held up on one shoulder by a gigantic brooch in the shape of a kite. Usually larger-than-life people made Veronica uncomfortable, but there was something appealing about Mrs. Carver.

  “I just love what you’ve done with the space, Mrs. Carver,” Veronica’s mother said. Veronica chewed quietly on a mystery kabob.

  “Please. Call me Peggy,” Sarah-Lisa’s mother said. “Mrs. Carver is my mother-in-law!” She howled at her own joke and Veronica thought the pictures might fall off the walls. “That is so cliché, I know,” Peggy said, “but it is honestly how I feel. I don’t ever want to be Mrs. Carver. I will forever be Peggy Lehman. I never change my name. Not any of the times I get married. Do you change yours? Not that I think there is anything wrong with it.”

  There was a black-and-white photograph behind Mrs. Lehman-Carver (whatever her name was) of a girl, about Veronica’s age, playing naked in the woods. The photograph was compelling, like Mrs. Lehman-Carver, even though Veronica didn’t exactly like it.