The Blessings of the Animals: A Novel - By Katrina Kittle Page 0,40
I want Hank to be with me because he chooses to be, not because he has to.” She pulled her ponytail out of its band and redid it. Hank chose to be with her, and every single day she counted that as a monumental, joyous blessing. “That may sound stupid, but it’s the honest-to-God truth.”
“It doesn’t sound stupid,” Cami said. “The only thing that sounds stupid is—”
She didn’t finish. Helen knew she wanted to say, The only thing that sounds stupid is your ex-husband’s name. But she didn’t. She would, Helen knew. A whinny interrupted them. The devil horse shook a mouthful of hay, doing this crazy head toss that rattled his teeth.
“He needs a name,” Cami said, and it took Helen a moment to realize Cami had jumped topics again, back to the horse.
“He has a name,” Helen reminded her. “I just haven’t had any luck getting his papers. His owners are real assholes. They’re fighting to get him back. Him and all the others we took.”
Cami shot Helen a look. “Please. They’re not getting him back.” She leaned on the fence again. “I need to call him something. Something to do with that crescent moon on his face.”
“Well, getting him handleable is a moonshot, that’s for sure.”
“Moonshot?”
“It means getting to the moon, you know, a snowball’s chance in hell. So, see? There’s still the devil connection.”
“Moonshot. I like it. That’s what we’ll call you, beautiful.”
He ground his teeth, the horrendous noise as if he chewed on rocks.
“I guess that’s his opinion of that,” Helen said, laughing. She stopped laughing, though, looking at her friend’s haggard face. “You need to slow down. That’s today’s piece of advice, okay?” She put a hand on Cami’s back. “You must sleep. You look like a madwoman, my friend. Get your cute doctor friend to write you a prescription for something.”
“I want to sleep,” she said, and Helen heard the gravel deep in her throat. “But my heart races. My brain races. My arm hurts. I—” She stopped, then said with a bit of brightness, “Cute doctor friend is coming to town next week. I’ll see what he says.”
“I lied,” Helen said. “I have another piece of advice for today. Are you listening? Post-breakup sex may seem like a good idea at the time, but it really just confuses a lot of the issues.”
“What? You think I’m going to sleep with Vijay?”
“Hello? Who wouldn’t want to sleep with Vijay? Plus, I’ve seen you two together.”
“The last time you saw us together we were both married!”
“Mmm hmm. And now you’re both not.”
Cami stared at Moonshot but then turned with a genuine smile and said, teasing, “Hmm. That thought gives me an appetite. I feel hungry.”
Helen laughed. “Good. Indulge whatever craving you have. What are you hungry for?”
Cami said, as suggestively as she could, “Curry.”
Helen pushed her. “Seriously. What do you want?” Let’s see if I know you like I think I do.
Cami slumped her shoulders. “What I really want is the grilled calamari at Tanti Baci.”
“Crap. Okay, what other cravings do you have?”
She thought a moment. “Pizza,” she said. “Or ice cream.”
“Or both,” Helen encouraged. “I brought both.”
And, good for Cami, she did eat both, along with copious amounts of wine, while they were stretched out in front of the fireplace. Max and Gingersnap curled up with them, but that new three-legged cat sulked on the back of the couch.
Cami told her about the budget conversation with Bobby. Helen listened, thinking how much Bobby had in common with Skippy. He’d left while Helen was frying pork chops, so to this day, that sizzling could bring her back to that hideous moment. Holly had had the chicken pox, and they’d just put down their blind, arthritic fourteen-year-old Labrador that very day. That’s when Skippy decided to skip. His timing was golden. The pork chops burned in the skillet, the smoke alarm went off, and the house stank for days.
Helen leaned back on the pillows and said, “They break your heart, don’t they? They’re so pathetic. Skippy was the same way.”
Cami sat up and said, “Tell me his name wasn’t really Skippy!”
Helen laughed. “Finally! Of course it wasn’t. His name was Stephen. But when we were splitting up, he was being such a baby, just a total ass. Doing things like taking the ice cube trays out of the house because they were his before we were married and hiding the remote to the TV. I was so tired of being angry, you know? It was