The Blessings of the Animals: A Novel - By Katrina Kittle Page 0,92

time,” he said.

I stopped the apple on the way to my mouth.

“That’s exactly what Susan’s father did. Susan’s mother is just like Susan herself, and when we first started dating, I felt sorry for him. I’d watch him stare out their patio doors, like a man in jail. I caught myself doing that and it scared me. I thought I’m way too young to have settled for this misery. I wanted joy and a partner to celebrate with. A few days after I recognized her father in me, I worked up the courage to tell her.”

I looked up at the clouds—whiter versions of the sheep below them—and thought about Bobby. Had he felt that way? That he’d settled for misery?

“I was dying,” Dubey said.

Bobby had thought about suicide.

I wanted joy and a partner to celebrate with.

We sat, our arms wrapped around our own knees, bees buzzing around us. I breathed the hint of beer in the fallen apples, the spice of dried grass, the warm musk of the sheep.

I lifted my wineglass. “To beautiful days.”

He clinked his glass to mine. “To beautiful days.”

“I CAN’T BE YOUR PARTNER FOR THE LAST DANCE CLASS TOMORROW,” Davy said on the phone.

I felt my happiness deflate. I no longer even pretended Vijay would show up. “Why?” I asked, hating the childish whine in my voice.

“Because . . . David and I have an interview with another prospective mom.”

To beautiful days. “That’s wonderful!” I said, actually doing a little hop.

“We’ll see,” Davy said. “I’m trying not to get my hopes up.”

But I heard the hope already in his voice. “Are you working with Helen again?”

“Hell, yes.” His vehemence leaped through the phone line. “Listen, I know it’s short notice for class. Any chance Vijay could come?”

“Please. Vijay who? The workaholic?”

“I can’t believe he didn’t come to Mom and Dad’s party.”

“I know. I’m getting used to it.”

“No. Don’t get used to it. ‘The biggest human temptation is to settle for too little.’ ”

“Who said that?”

“I don’t know. It was in my tea bag this morning.”

We laughed.

I dialed Dubey’s number. “Do you like to dance?” I asked him.

THE DAY AT THE CLINIC WENT LATE WITH AN EMERGENCY (A German shepherd had swallowed an entire bathrobe sash), so I rushed to get ready for dance class. As I stood at the mirror, curling a strand of hair I’d left hanging down from my French twist, my phone buzzed. Vijay.

I wanted to hear that chocolate pudding voice. But . . . I looked at the clock. No time. I let it go. As much as I hated “keeping score,” let him have a message unanswered for a while.

Gabriella came to my bedroom door and narrowed her eyes at me. “You look really hot.”

“Thanks. I think. Why are you glaring at me?”

“You never dress like that for Uncle Davy.”

“I’m taking Dubey tonight.”

“You can’t be dating a man named Dubey!”

I laughed. “It’s a nickname. It comes from Duberstein. And we’re not dating.”

She played with the doorjamb with one pink fingernail and wouldn’t make eye contact. “I thought Vijay was supposed to dance with you.”

“So did I.” While I applied lipstick and mascara, my phone buzzed again. Vijay. I slipped it in my purse.

“Who was it?”

“Helen. I’ll call her later.” This time I was the one not making eye contact.

TURNS OUT DUBEY COULD DANCE. VERY WELL. I THINK THE musician in him gave him a natural rhythm and ease. At the last class of the course, he was far better than any of the other guys who’d been there for the entire six weeks.

“Where is your husband?” Opal asked, looking down her nose at Dubey.

I laughed (we’d signed in with the same last name, after all) and said, “Davy’s my brother. He couldn’t make it tonight, so I brought a substitute.”

My purse buzzed as I set it down. I checked, out of habit, but it was Vijay again. Sometimes he didn’t call me back for days; was he going to call me every hour now?

Dubey and I took to the dance floor, standing expectantly before each other as Opal gave instructions. So far we’d done formal dances like the waltz and the fox-trot, with a little swing. For the final class, we were spicing it up with salsa and merengue.

Dubey’s face changed when he listened to music. You could see him absorb it with his whole body. We fit together well, and he led with confidence. I hated each time they shut off the music. When Opal announced the last dance of