The Blessings of the Animals: A Novel - By Katrina Kittle Page 0,129

it was a mistake because . . . because you can’t leave it at that. Now you show up and act like you own my time, my schedule.”

“Asking you to come eat some cheese on a hillside with me is not trying to own your time.”

“But that’s where it will lead.” He paced. “That’s how it is with relationships, with marriage.”

“Marriage? I’m asking you to go on a picnic.”

“But I know how it will turn out.”

“Based on what? Your marriage? That’s just one example.”

He finally sat—but on the piano bench across the room from me. “I thought you ‘got it’ when you told me about turning down Vijay’s proposal. I thought you wanted to be independent, to live your own life. When you’re with somebody, you can’t do that, not with real freedom. You’re always . . . you’ve always got . . .” He paused, as if searching for an image. His face brightened. “It’s like a horse, right? If you’re with someone, it’s like someone always has a hand on one rein, keeping you checked.”

I wanted to laugh but managed not to. What the hell? That didn’t even make sense! Who rides holding one rein? If you did that you’d just turn in circles.

Oh.

That’s exactly what I was doing, wasn’t I?

I stood and retrieved my basket. “I’m really glad I met you, Dubey.” I wanted to kiss him, perform some farewell gesture, something, but his stiff posture didn’t welcome that. “You crossed my path when I needed you most. Thank you for being such a great dance partner.”

He seemed confused, wary even, at my kindness. “We can still do stuff like that. We’re going to dance at Nick and Olive’s wedding this weekend, right?”

I thought about being snide and throwing his own game back at him, saying “We’ll see” or “That could be nice” without giving him a definite answer, but instead I said, “No, Dubey. I don’t think so.”

He looked sad, even though I’d never officially asked him to be my date. Looks like I’d be a free agent at the wedding, which suited me just fine.

Besides, all that riding in circles had made me dizzy. I needed to get my balance.

“DO YOU HAVE YOUR WEDDING SPEECH?” I ASKED GABRIELLA as we drove to the rehearsal dinner.

“I’m almost done.”

My stomach bottomed out at her nonchalance. “It’s the rehearsal,” I said. “They’re going to want you to read it.”

“I think we just hit our marks, right?” she asked. “It’s not like they’ll actually say the vows tonight. Lighten up. It’ll be fine.”

I took deep breaths and reminded myself, This was not my problem.

“You’ve got straw in your hair, Mom.”

“Great.” I looked in the rearview mirror, trying to see it.

“God, Mom, watch the road! I’ll get it!” Gabby combed through my hair. I understood why Moonshot loved it. I hoped Ginger indulged him often. “Jeez. Can’t take you anywhere.”

“I was just trying to look at Luna’s udder,” I said, “She’s so short!”

“You really think she’s close?”

I nodded. Finally. Just tonight, crouching down in the clean deep straw, I’d seen “waxing”—opaque white liquid—on her teats. My books said waxing occurred “anytime from forty-eight to four hours before birth.” I’d called Dr. Coatney, who’d warned that Luna might seem anxious, paw the ground, and get up and down frequently. I figured we had time to spare, since she stood serenely eating all the hay I’d put before her.

“Your grandparents are going to check on her while we’re at the rehearsal dinner. They promise to call if she starts. Do I look okay? No other straw? I don’t smell like horses, do I?”

She laughed. “You always smell like horses.”

I frowned. “I do?” That’s what was on my mind as I went into the rehearsal.

Gabriella was right. All we had to do was hit our marks. No one said vows, gave the sermon, or read poems. She was off the hook. Was I the only one nervous?

I was last up the aisle, before the bride. I was paired with Nick’s brother, a very attractive, funny best man. I spent most of my time chatting with him as we waited, to avoid having to talk to Bobby. Although he and I had had an honest phone conversation, it still felt awkward being in a room with him.

Everyone asked me about Hank. “He’s doing great,” I told them. “He’s managing really high doses his oncologist didn’t think he could.” Helen had originally been in the bridal party but had bowed out, preferring to sit with