The Blessings of the Animals: A Novel - By Katrina Kittle Page 0,60
Bobby’s e-mail, but it suddenly seemed so obviously hopeless. I couldn’t think of the reasons I’d gathered for why I should try to fix the marriage. My brain felt fuzzy even though I’d had only one sip of my wine.
“You’re confused and hurt, Cami. Don’t rush into this. I don’t think Bobby deserves it.”
Simply smelling the calamari when it came brought my appetite to life. The meat melted on my tongue. Vijay took a bite, too, and for a moment we simply savored. A ravenous urge overcame me to consume a plateful of this stuff, plus the entire bread basket.
“What about you, Cami?” Vijay asked. “Were you happy? Really?”
The question turned my one bite of calamari to cat litter in my mouth. “I knew we had problems,” I said. “I knew we had flaws. But . . . until that morning he left, I would’ve told anyone who asked that we had a happy marriage.”
Vijay tilted his head. “But did you hear what you just said? You would have told anyone who asked that you were happy, but that’s not answering the question: Were you happy?”
How did he do that?
“Do you know how many years I’ve listened to you defend him and make excuses for him?”
My neck and cheeks itched.
“You were a master at rationalizing any insensitive thing he did.”
I longed to scratch the blossoms I knew were crawling across my face.
“Why did you spend so much energy apologizing for him? You’d always have some sweet explanation of why he was the way he was, why it was okay with you. It made me sick.”
The calamari steamed like a punishment before me. I knew I couldn’t touch it. “Why didn’t you ever say anything before?” I asked. “You sound like you hated him!”
“I never hated him . . . although I might now for the cowardly way he did this. I could never say anything to you because you loved him, Cami. I couldn’t risk losing my friendship with you, so I kept my mouth shut.”
Dizziness sparkled in my head.
“So, let me take that back,” Vijay said. “About hating Bobby now. I think I may like him better now than I ever have before. I think he just did you the biggest favor of your life.”
“Favor? Vijay, I— Remember, he saved me once. He—”
“No,” Vijay said. “I think you rescued him, just like you try to rescue everybody. He was your shelter dog.” He took my hand.
My face felt as though I stood before the pizza oven at Tanti Baci.
“Cami, don’t you see? Your life isn’t falling apart. It’s about to fall together.”
Chapter Eighteen
IT TERRIFIED ME, THIS NEW DESPERATION, THIS NEW HUNGER. I had to know if Bobby and I could—or should—save our marriage.
Did I want to?
I had already struggled with this question. Did I truly miss Bobby? Or did I miss the idea of Bobby?
I thought of my fierce, wounded daughter.
I thought of that tattered saddle and had to know.
I dropped Vijay off at his parents’ house; I didn’t go inside. He usually alternated every other night with our house when he was in town, a tradition we’d kept even when we’d both been married, but I was glad to be alone this night. At my own house, I didn’t even bother to go through the motions of getting in bed. I wandered the pasture calling for Gerald. I scratched Moonshot’s tail. As the sun rose, I tried to talk myself out of it.
Vijay was right. Bobby doesn’t deserve this. Don’t call.
But I did.
I flipped open my cell phone and dialed his number. He answered on the third ring, his voice grumbly with sleep. I looked at the microwave clock. Oops. It was three minutes before seven.
After an excruciating, babbling start, I said, “I need to ask you something. Can we meet in person?”
“Uh . . . okay. When?”
“Now?”
He paused. He coughed. He agreed to meet me at the Second Street Market downtown.
WE SAT OUTSIDE AT A PICNIC TABLE, WHERE BOBBY GREETED me with “Gabby’s right, Cam. You’re too thin.”
But thin enough? I sensed his impatience, his irritation—what was this burning question I had?—but I didn’t know how to begin. I was desperate for a sign of some kind.
As I took a deep breath, I felt real fear, this sense of do NOT do this. Bobby watched me, expectant. I asked, “Do you want to work on our marriage?”
I swear I could hear a woman breathing a hundred yards away. Bobby’s panic hung in the air, a palpable thing.