now I run. Which means I just traded one obsession for another.”
I blink, then smile, trying my best to lean into the awkwardness.
“I’m sorry,” Grace says. “TMI.”
I laugh out loud. “Are you kidding? You’re talking to someone wearing her dog in public. I’m the embodiment of TMI. Which means I’m the one who should be slinking away in shame.” But instead I’ll just stand here and endure my shame, hoping you take the dog-bait and forget to ask about our overdue tuition.
“And I’m sorry about the interruption this morning.”
“Yeah, what was that all about?”
“I can’t say.”
“Really?”
“No. I can’t. Privacy issues.”
“Like HIPAA?” I ask, and Grace nods. “You can tell me anything—I don’t talk to anyone. And even if I did, I’d probably forget what you told me anyway.” I tap the side of my head with my finger. “Senior moments on a daily basis.” That’s when I realize I’m still wearing my Bird hat. I pull it off as fast as I can and stuff it into the sling.
Grace smiles nervously, then looks down at the dog. “Such a cutie!” she coos, pointing to Charlotte’s head poking out of the off-white cotton opening. The sling-dog distraction appears to be working. Grace is being super friendly. She couldn’t possibly be any nicer. There’s no way she’ll bring up money now. “And you take it everywhere with you like that? Despite it being disabled?”
Confused and slightly offended, I take a step back from her. “The dog isn’t disabled.”
“I’m sorry. Differently-abled. Or walking-challenged.”
“Wait, what? The dog is fine.”
“So why don’t you just walk it?—I’m sorry. I don’t know what gender your dog identifies as so I keep calling it ‘it.’”
“Girl. Female. Charlotte.”
“Then she’s a therapy dog. Without an official vest.”
“Nope! Not a therapy dog!”
“Then why do you carry her?”
I shrug and sigh. “It just kind of happened. And now we can’t stop. It’s just what we do.”
Grace nods vigorously. “I know what that’s like. And I also know that sometimes life is too painful without a little buddy to help you feel safe.”
I hug the sling. “Exactly! I’m her little buddy!”
Another head-tilt. “Oh. I thought she was your little buddy.”
I make a big face. “Then I would need the vest!”
We both laugh again until Grace clears her throat. Here it comes. “This is, like, so awkward.” She cringes, lowering her voice to a whisper. “But you guys are really really behind on tuition.”
“I know!” I cringe and whisper, too. “I’m so sorry!”
“I’m sorry, too!” Grace looks truly pained. “So many people are struggling right now. It’s such a bad time in the world.”
Relief washes through me. I grab her arm, a little too hard, I realize a little too late. “So it’s not just us? We’re not the only ones barely staying afloat? No matter what I do I can’t seem to get ahead.” My voice trails off the way it does when I forget I’m with a person and not just talking to myself and I almost tell her about how truly awful the last few years have been—in detail—but something—her awkward smile, the half step back she takes—stops me. Because I realize suddenly that she probably can’t wait to get away from me. Who could blame her?
“I’d just hate for Teddy not to be able to come back next year,” Grace whispers. “Everybody loves him.”
“Really?” I blurt. “I just mean—he’s gotten so quiet. Sometimes I worry that people mistake that for unfriendliness or hostility.”
Grace shakes her head. “Oh no. It’s just a phase.”
“You think?”
“He’s a teenager. They all get like that.”
“You mean that awkward phase of adolescence when they seem like sociopaths?” I joke. I think of him on the fringes of the multipurpose room that morning, of how quiet the house has become; how he barely ever picks up his guitar or talks to me in the morning before school or while I’m cooking dinner the way he used to and wonder if every mother of a teenager is walking around like a cored apple, completely hollowed out inside.
“Teddy’s always been so special,” Grace says, smiling. “I still remember the first day he came to Morningside. He had that long rocker-hair that covered half his face and purple skinny jeans. He was wearing a Frank Zappa T-shirt. He was so shy at first, but everyone thought he was incredibly cool. Including all the teachers.”
I hug the dog and bite my lip, but still the tears come.
“It’ll work out.” Grace takes a step toward me now, rubbing my arm and reaching