The Blessings of the Animals: A Novel - By Katrina Kittle Page 0,79
For once, he wasn’t mooning after Gabby. Damn, that poor kid had fallen hard. It had been six months and Davy still caught him staring sadly at Gabby in class.
Recently at cross-country practice—Tyler had quit debate this fall and joined cross-country instead—he and Tyler had found themselves running side by side, the rest of the team spread far ahead or behind them on the loop at Sugar Creek Reserve.
“It’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” Tyler said of the breakup.
Davy let their footfalls fill the silence. Tyler should count his blessings that that was the worst thing, but Davy knew it wouldn’t help at all to say so.
With each slap-slap-slap of his feet on the dirt trails, Davy’s own tragedies flashed like video clips: His sister starving herself almost literally to death in high school. His father pitching head first into a stone wall and coming to not knowing their names. Being despised for who he loved.
All in all, though, Davy knew he was lucky. Besides, this was his life, not Tyler’s. There was nothing more individual than grief.
Except maybe love.
“Nobody gets the good stuff all the time,” Davy said to him as they ran. “Remember that.”
He wished he knew something more comforting to offer. He wished with the fervor that haunted his entire teaching career that he could spare them, his students; that he could pass them the cheat sheet for their future lives.
He looked around his classroom at them, trying to picture his own high-school class throwing a party for a couple of old fags. These kids were such good people.
Davy started across the room to talk to Tyler and Amy when Gabby called out, “Okay! It’s time to pit the Davids against each other in the ‘Stressed-out Parent’ game. You guys are going to each try to hang as many of these clothes as you can in two minutes”—she pointed to a basket and a clothesline she’d hung up. “You have to hold this crying baby the entire time. I’ll be calling out real-life distractions that you also have to deal with. You can’t put the baby down.”
“I’ll go first,” Davy said. “Gimme that baby.”
The game was ridiculous, set up to be impossible, with the doorbell ringing, a pot boiling over on the stove, and a cat puking on the carpet.
“We don’t have a cat!” Davy protested.
“Mom’s gonna give you one as a shower gift.”
He found Cami in the crowd and pointed to her. “I’ll kill you.”
When Gabby called out more distractions and reminded him, “The baby’s still crying,” Davy cradled the doll in the nook of his arm and pulled out his cell phone. While the crowd hummed the Jeopardy! song, he dialed David’s number.
Big David jumped when his phone vibrated in his pocket. “Hey, can you come home and give me a hand?” Davy asked. “We’re a little stressed.”
“Sure thing.” David stepped into the scene and rocked the baby, while Davy quickly hung up everything in the basket. Everyone cheered.
David pulled out his phone again and said, “Hello?”
Davy wanted to see what game he concocted next, eager to play along, to go wherever he led.
“Okay. Wow. How long?” Davy realized David was talking to somebody for real. “We’ll be right there.” David clicked his phone shut. “Kim went to Miami Valley Hospital about three hours ago. She’s in labor.”
THEY TOOK HER HOME THAT DAY. A TINY, WAILING CREATURE they named Grace. Davy swore he felt his chest crack open to make room for this new love. He had thought he was prepared, but he marveled like a goon at her miniscule toenails, her deep-lake eyes, her chubby thighs, her dimpled knees. Our daughter.
The effect on Ava was amazing. Grace made her happy, lucid. “I’m so glad I lived to see this,” Ava whispered, holding their sleeping Grace.
“I’m glad, too,” Davy said. He was glad she got to see David have a family, have such love.
And then, two days later, it was over.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
AFTER WORK, I DROVE OVER TO SEE GRACE. I OPENED THE Davids’ front door and listened for crying or happy babble. The house seemed to hold its breath. “Hello?” I called.
The nursery was empty, but when I peeked in the bedroom, there they were, the Davids, curled like spoons. “What’s going on? Where’s Grace?” I tried to soften the panic in my voice.
After what felt like a million years, Big David managed to croak out words. His voice was hoarse, shredded. “Kim changed her mind,” he said.