Fly by Night (39 page)

“You did,” Jen said. “I can see it.” There was a seriousness about it as if Jen's mind was ticking down a litany of consequences.

Amelia said nothing but couldn't help but smirk.

“Well, shit.” Jen hugged her and started jumping up and down. “It's about time.”

Jen blinked several times, indicating she was ready to hear it. “So tell me everything.”

“I don't know…”

“Oh come on, quit the bullshit, you've loved each other for years,” Jen said.

Amelia looked away. “Not like this.”

“Well, now you do—you're lovers. I felt it moving this way back in Rhode Island,” Jen said. “A few people even asked me about it.”

“Really.” Amelia smiled and looked away. She began to think back, trying to decide whether it was true. “That far back, huh.”

“Further ago than that even.”

“So how could you tell just now?”

“Oh come on, Amelia, simple pair-bonding behavior,” Jen said as if she were some old crone. “The way your bodies orient to one another, how he moved next to you, you leaned toward him.”

Amelia frowned with skepticism. “I leaned?”

Jen sighed with happy exasperation. Amelia had never felt embarrassed in front of Jen, but she could do nothing but grin.

“You little hussy, you,” Jen said and grabbed her arm in a congratulatory shake. “I always knew it would happen. Probably about eighteen years too late, but hey—better late…”

Amelia looked at the floor.

“At least he's got a queen-size bed in that hovel of a room,” Jen said dismissively. “Shit, you gotta do something with that room, Am.” Jen caught her eye and held it. “And I'm even happier for me because now I get the room to myself when I'm pissed at Doby.”

*   *   *

Walking back into the living room, Amelia took out the quilt, arranged it in the bottom of the crate, and unpacked the formula.

“It's time for them to eat,” she said.

Jen held them, rocking slowly from side to side as she studied them both as Amelia measured the formula in the bottles.

“Think their eyes'll stay blue?” Jen asked.

“Charlotte said probably not.”

“Who's Charlotte?”

How could anyone explain Charlotte? Amelia turned from the sink to watch Jen, fingers under the faucet, waiting for the water to warm as she thought about it.

“Charlotte's my…” Amelia paused. “Sister-in-law. I want to know her more.”

“What about TJ?”

Amelia looked at her, disappointed yet not at all deterred.

“Lost cause,” she said, yet she felt driven to know him in the same way she'd been compelled to find evidence of sea horses on a reef in Nova Scotia waters. Divers had told her she was wasting her time and that there was no life on that dead reef but her gut had said otherwise. And soon after she'd spotted the first sea horse, she'd smiled inside.

She'd make TJ see her. And for as many no's as he'd lob at her, she'd volley back with a yes until he relented—a war of attrition. And while she had no idea what kind of stuff he was made of, she sure as hell knew the kind that she was.

 

32

They were on a collision course with Sea Life in the days following their trip to Bayfield.

It was two days before Alex's arrival and Amelia and Bryce had begun to smuggle Lacey and Junior in and out of the apartment building and into the mall and Sea Life under their coats. Charlotte had estimated they'd gain an average of two to three pounds per week and Amelia swore each day they were bigger and more alert. They were beginning to look like stuffed animals with a pulse.

The plan to make it work in the apartment (management had a no-pets policy) and at Sea Life (that also had a no-pets policy, as did the mall—except for companion animals) was doomed from the get-go.

While Amelia had underestimated the difficulty, it was usually Bryce, the sensible one, who would “save her from herself.” Yet he'd fallen down on the job, generously chalking it off to “we'll figure it all out after Christmas.” Lacey and Junior also contributed to defeating the plan by growing bigger and louder every day.

Upon Alex's arrival for his four-day visit, he was thrilled with the pups and with developments between Amelia and Bryce.

The evening of his arrival, Alex and Bryce had dashed across the street to buy a Christmas tree from a vendor in a gas station parking lot. Amelia decorated it with strings of popcorn she'd had to keep popping because Doby, Bryce, and Alex were devouring her “material” faster than she and Jen could string.

Late that first night, Alex had listened with rapt attention as Amelia recounted new revelations of the grandfather he'd never known and the man's secret life, along with information about his newfound uncle. His face had softened with intrigue and curiosity as if listening to a bedtime story about being lost in some sort of magical woods for the first time.

Alex had slept in Amelia's old room that night, Doby and Jen had crashed interlaced on the couch, too tired and inebriated to get up and go back to his place, and Amelia bunked with Bryce. Alex had insisted on sleeping with the pups, one under each arm, holding them like stuffed toys until they'd begin to squeal, ready for a feeding.

Amelia stood watching from the doorway as light from Bryce's aquarium bathed the scene in a soft aqua color. Her chest pulsed in a wistful way, yet it was offset by the satisfaction of seeing her son make a life for himself; he was now thinking about getting engaged.

*   *   *

Alex had offered to babysit for the remaining two workdays before Christmas and Bryce and Amelia were grateful. After the first day he met Amelia at the door, shaking his head, looking bewildered, holding a puppy under each arm.

“You look beat up,” Amelia said as she shut the apartment door.

“Seriously, Mom. I don't know how you and Bryce are gonna handle this.”

“I missed you all,” she'd crooned, hoisting up Junior and kissing him all over his face as he squeaked. “So nice to come back and see you all together like this.” She grabbed Alex, amused by his irritation as she kissed the side of his head and he pulled away.

“Mom.” He sounded concerned. “Listen. I mean I had to practically hold them every minute they weren't eating, sleeping, playing, or crapping, or else they start crying.”

“So you were held hostage.”

“Essentially,” he said, looking at her with worry. “It's sort of a full-time job to keep them quiet.”

Amelia sloughed it off, though a deep core of worry began to form.

Lacey had one green eye and one blue with a white mask and facial markings, and a body that was wolf-gray. Junior had two light-colored amber eyes and stayed all black except for the one white star on his chest.

Later that afternoon, Amelia took Alex to a scuba store for his Christmas present, surprising him with a new regulator, face mask, and fins for the Andaman dive next summer. She also purchased a few other things for Bryce and Jen that they hadn't expected for Christmas.

In shops, the sales staff would immediately reach for a pup to cuddle, a holiday stress release for everyone who got a chance to hold Junior or Lacey. Amelia figured it was good socialization as TJ had emphasized the importance of exposing high wolf content huskies to as many people and situations early on.

On Christmas Day the mall was closed and it felt as if the whole world could finally take a breath.

Alex and Jen had taken Lacey and Junior outside to teach them how to walk on a leash. The pups would waddle along for a few steps and then collapse, rolling around on the snowy sidewalk to bite the leash as if it were a plaything before starting to shiver.

The girlfriend of the building manager, who resided on the fifth floor, spotted them as she exited the lobby.

“How cute,” she said, eyeing Jen and Alex. “Whose dogs?”

Alex sized up the situation. “Mine. I'm visiting for Christmas.”

“There's a no-animal policy in the building,” the woman said, making sustained eye contact as she tried to figure out if he was lying. They'd allowed only fish as pets, but hadn't seen the magnitude of Bryce's aquarium.

“Sorry,” Alex said. “I'm leaving tomorrow,” he covered.

*   *   *

“So what are you guys gonna do?” Alex asked later that evening at dinner after having gotten busted.

Amelia felt his gaze and shared his doubts. “Figured after Christmas we'll come up with a plan,” she said. “Find a pet-friendly apartment.”

“Or doggie daycare,” Bryce offered and looked at Jen who shook her head.

“Too young for doggie daycare,” Jen said.

“We've got several grant applications in,” Amelia said. “I'm thinking we can float at the mall for the next five months or so.” She looked at Bryce who was quiet.

“Yeah, Mom, but even if you can…” Alex looked over at the pups. “What about this summer on the Andaman dive?” He looked from Bryce to Amelia. “We're gonna be gone for two months. What'll you do with them then?”

Good question.

Bryce looked at Amelia, who sat chewing her lip. “We'll figure something out,” she said and felt Alex studying her.

“I mean,” Alex continued. “It's not like you two to just go off half-cocked and do something crazy like adopt two dogs,” he said, nodding his head in a serious way. “You always think through every contingency many times over.”

Bryce and Amelia sat quietly. They were starting to feel like teenagers getting scolded.

“True,” Bryce said as he reached for the opener and another bottle of beer.

“But you know something?” Alex began to nod. “I like it. Gotta say I love those pups—pathetic pains in the ass but they're you, both of you. I mean Sea Life's cool and all, but maybe it's not the right place to hang out even for now.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Amelia muttered and looked to Bryce. But it was not the week to make rash moves. Yet it was Christmas, which by definition was all about rash moves, ill-conceived purchases, and belief in a fat man in a red suit who flew on a sleigh pulled by reindeer from the North Pole to deliver presents down every chimney of those who cling to make-believe. Besides, who would be heartless enough to evict or fire them during the holiday season?

“And jeeze,” Alex said at the table after shopping with the pups tucked in his coat, “if I didn't love and have Susan in my life, I could have met at least a dozen women today by carrying around Lacey and Junior.”

“Hate to burst your bubble, Adonis,” Jen said. “But it's not about you—these things are chick and dude magnets,” she said. She picked up Lacey, who'd been lying across her thigh after a feeding, and smothered the pup's face with kisses.

*   *   *

But such sentiments didn't carry over at work. It was the day after Christmas and Amelia had just dropped Alex off at the airport. Seeing him off always caused her to spin off into sadness for a few days afterward.

The mall was packed with shoppers, more so than before Christmas as her coworkers had alleged it would be. And while the pups had slept for the better part of that morning, around eleven Amelia heard their cries all the way from the specimen room. The staff stopped to listen, looking around, trying to decipher what it was as Amelia slipped out of the room.

Junior and Lacey quieted the instant they heard her key in the lock.

“Shh.” She scooped them up and set them up on her desk next to the computer and the jar with the Tyrian purple snail shells. She'd discovered that being high off the ground silenced them.

“You have to be quiet,” she whispered, turning on the faucet at the lab bench in the office to let the water run warm before mixing formula. Junior began to whimper while she readied the bottles.

“Shh.” Amelia turned to them but spotted the glass jar with the Tyrian purple snail shells falling over the edge of her desk, helplessly watching as it crashed to the floor. Glass shattered, the shells flew about. They hadn't been out of that jar, except for Alex playing with them as a little boy until he'd lost interest.

“Oh shit.” She stood there, hand over her mouth. She looked from the surprised pups to the glass and then scooped both up and set them down into the crate and shut the door.

Lacey and Junior watched through the metal grate of the door in silence. For the moment the new sounds had distracted them away from their bellies.

In the back hallway off her office, she stepped out and grabbed a broom, sweeping up the shards of glass and then kneeling down to feel for anything that might slice into their paws. They were still on the course of antibiotics from TJ for the porcupine quills.

Amelia sat down to examine the broken glass in the dustpan. The jar had been the only item remaining from her parents' house in New York that had a neck wide enough for each shell to pass through.

Broken glass, it's only broken glass.
She sighed.
True.
Nevertheless she felt weird about dumping it into the garbage, like dumping Penelope in there, her home, her childhood. “Get a grip,” she muttered before allowing the contents to slide off into the industrial-sized rubber garbage can. “I guess that's that.”

She gathered up the five shells. Sliding on her stomach to retrieve the one that had gone flying under her desk, she sat back on the floor, turning each one over in a contemplative way, examining each for breakage, thinking about TJ, about the shell on his desk, wondering how long he'd kept it there.

She looked over at the pups, who were still silently watching.

“It's only glass,” she said to them. Their ears twitched at the sound of her voice.

Standing up, she resumed preparing the bottles, shaking them to dissolve the formula and then opened the door of the crate.

Amelia sat back down as Lacey and Junior climbed into her lap and began to cry.