The Blessings of the Animals: A Novel - By Katrina Kittle Page 0,124

She needed to make it up to her, the whole Jen incident. Cami was a strong woman. She was strong enough for Bobby; this Lydia wasn’t. What Bobby saw in that pale, frumpy Lydia was beyond her, not that anyone asked.

Bobby should be home. What was this shit about not being happy? He’d told her, “We’ve drifted apart.” Well, Christ, put your oars in the water and row the hell back together. What was he, a moron? Where did everyone get off thinking happiness was going to be handed down to them from on high? You had to earn your own goddamn happiness.

Like Olive and Nick writing their own vows. For a while, they’d actually wanted to pledge to honor and cherish each other “for as long as our love shall last” instead of “for as long as we both shall live.” Thank God, Mimi had talked them out of that. Why get married at all if you were gonna cut out the minute you weren’t feeling loving? What, were all her children half-wits? When you weren’t feeling loving, then you rowed harder. Christ, everyone had to put up with a certain amount of shit. It was worth it to belong, to be somebody.

“It’s been a long day,” Cami said. “You still have to drive home. I can take it from here.”

“No, no. I can’t leave you with all this, doll. Especially after how it ended.”

Cami laughed. She actually laughed. “Don’t worry about that. It was entertaining, at least.”

Mimi couldn’t believe it was over with the Indian. She wanted Cami taken care of. Cami said she didn’t feel lonely, but she’d see. You were invisible without a man. Cami thought her life was full, but she’d get tired of going out with couples, riding in the backseat like a child. You weren’t somebody in this world unless you were with someone.

Mimi scrubbed the tile island. “Who did she think she was?” she couldn’t help but say out loud of Lydia. “Chatting with you? Laughing with you? Like you were long-lost friends!”

Cami stopped washing dishes. “I liked her. I’m glad she talked to me.”

Mimi kept scrubbing the cracks between the tiles. “And who did she think she was standing up and bossing everyone around? She needs to know her place. Whore.”

“All right. Enough.” Cami’s tone stopped her. “You tell me what’s so bad about her, Mimi. Name one thing.”

Mimi’s mouth wrinkled up like a baby’s. She felt a decade older. One thing? She sniffed and whispered, “She’s not you.”

Chapter Forty-Two

HELEN AND I MET IN THE OUTER LOBBY OF THE HUMANE Society office for the monthly meeting.

“I’m not feeling it,” I admitted. “Let’s ditch this meeting.”

Helen was walking out the door before I finished the sentence. “They can carry on without us,” she said once we were outside. “You know we’ll both end up splitting that box of kittens if we go back in there.”

Although the days now hinted at spring, the evenings were still cold and damp. We linked arms for warmth, heading—without discussion—for the river.

“How’s Dubey?” Helen asked.

I sighed. “Like a feral animal I’ve humanely trapped.”

“Uh-oh.”

“I have to approach very slowly in order not to scare him. I can’t make eye contact or move too fast.”

“Hmm,” Helen said, nothing more. She seemed as moody as I was tonight. I missed Moonshot. Ginger had sent me a brief video of the two of them jumping a training course. Along with his athleticism, he had an elegance over jumps that was truly breathtaking.

I liked watching him move forward and took comfort in knowing I’d helped him do that. I didn’t really want him pining away, kicking walls again.

But I missed him. And I missed Vijay. And I missed Dubey, which troubled me. I shouldn’t have to miss him, should I? I’d called him after that insane shower day, needing to talk, needing to detox it with someone who hadn’t been there, but he had yet to call me back.

“I can’t ask too much of him,” I said. “If I try to pin him down, he gets all slippery.”

“What?” Helen asked.

“Dubey,” I said.

“Oh.” She wasn’t really listening.

It’d been a nice idea to skip the meeting, but still a block from the river, I felt naked, the insistent wind penetrating my clothes and skin with its raw chill. “I’m freezing,” I said.

She turned around as answer. Heading back, we faced into the bitter wind.

We walked fast, clutching each other. I held a hand over one ear. “What’s Hank doing tonight?” I asked, hoping that