Where We Belong (25 page)

I was starting to get mad. Sophie’s little noises got bigger, because we were making her nervous. She didn’t like it when we yelled.

“Don’t you think we’ll get sick of fish after a while?”

“Unlike rice and beans, or pasta. Which, of course, we never get sick of!”

“Don’t raise your voice to me.”

“You want that fish, or don’t you? Because I’d be really happy to eat it if you don’t even care.”

First she didn’t answer. But when I dove for the plate, she defended it. She wrapped her arms around it and boxed me out.

“Look, I’m sorry,” she said. “Yes. I want it. I’m worried about money is all.”

“Is that why you’ve been in such a bad mood?”

“I haven’t been in a bad mood.”

I snorted louder than I meant to.

“Right. Of course not. I’m going for a walk.”

She didn’t say a word. She didn’t even try to stop me. I looked back to see her scarfing down the fish. I shook my head and kept going.

Paul’s porch light was off, so I stood in the dark by his door until he had time to come open it. Then he snapped the porch light on, and it stabbed into my eyes like twin daggers. I shielded my eyes with my hand.

When he opened the door, I just stood there for another second. Not sure what to say.

“I had a fight with my mom. Can I come in?”

He stepped away from the door, and I walked in and leaned over Rigby and hugged her and hugged her and hugged her. I thought, Don’t you ever die, Rigby. Don’t you dare ever die. Between that and my mom, I felt a little close to crying, so I hugged her even longer, until I got it under control.

Then I straightened up and had no idea what to say to Paul.

I wanted to ask if I could sleep there for the night. But I knew I couldn’t. I knew there was nothing perverted about Paul and me, and he knew it, but there was that place where you have to bow to what other people are bound to think. I couldn’t stay at his house until he wasn’t there anymore.

So I said, “Maybe I could just stay here until I’m sure she’s in bed.”

“Sure.”

“I sleep in the living room, so until she goes to bed, I get no privacy.”

“You’ll get plenty of privacy in the next couple of weeks.”

“Yeah, that’ll be really nice.”

I looked around the place and started to think how great it would be to have it all to myself, all day long, day after day. It made me want to go home even less.

“I won’t get in your hair, I promise.”

“You never get in my hair. You know how to play Gin Rummy?”

“No. But I could learn. If you’re willing to teach me.”

We played more than twenty hands before I finally went home.

I started to like it too much. Like maybe everything having to do with cards was bad for me. But it wasn’t the cards, really. It was the gambling. We didn’t play for money, but I could see how easy it would be to cross that line.

What if I was a gambler at heart? Just like my dad?

I’d have to be careful about that.

“Kibble is in this cupboard,” he said. He opened the pantry to show me a plastic bin that was almost as big as a garbage can, but with a tighter lid. “There’s a measuring scoop inside. So one scoop, and one can of the wet food. Twice a day. You can put the arthritis pills right into her food. I left them by the microwave.”

“Does it matter exactly what time?”

“Not to the minute. I feed her when I get up and then again around five. She’ll bug you if she’s hungry. An hour here or there doesn’t bother her much.”

I counted the dog food cans on the shelf.

“Two a day. So what if you’re gone for more than eighteen days?”

“Well, I doubt that. But just to be on the safe side…” He pulled out his wallet and took out a twenty. Stuck it under the last can on the shelf. “They sell it at the local market, so just save the last can so you know you’re getting the right stuff.”

“Okay. How do I know if she has to go out?”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I had a doggie door installed in the back door. She’ll let herself out.”

“Is it all fenced?”

“Not completely. But she won’t go away. She’s too well trained for that.”

“What if she gets worried because you’re gone?”

“I go away and leave her all the time. She’ll just wait for me at the house. She’s a good dog. Trust her.”

“I do,” I said.

But it was a big responsibility.

“Here’s the number of her vet. And my cell number. If you have any questions, just call me.”

“Okay.”

“You sure I can’t pay you for this?”

“Positive.”

That seemed to stop him for a minute. I wondered what he was thinking. I couldn’t tell from his face.

“Eat everything. I expect to find not one scrap of food in this house when I get back. And the fishing stuff is all in the garage. Take it out. There are lots of places you can walk to. I’ll leave you a map of the town, and you’ll be able to see where the streams run through. Unless you’ve already figured that out since you’ve been here.”

“Not really. The map would be good. Should I take her?”

“Sure. If you want.”

“What if it’s too much walking for her?”

“Try taking her everywhere. If she comes up limping, or stiff, that’s too much.

Cut back a bit. If you’re not sure, call.”

“Okay.”

“Nervous about it?”

“A little.”

“Don’t be. You love her. That’s all the skills you really need for the job.”

We stood on the back porch and watched him drive away. I waved, but, because of the way we were looking down on his car, I doubt he could even see me.

“He’ll come back,” I told Rigby. “And I’ll take good care of you while he’s gone.”

I’m not sure why I bothered, though. She didn’t seem the least bit nervous. The only nervous in the place was coming from me.

I opened his refrigerator door. Because, of course, I hadn’t had breakfast. I found orange juice. Two dozen eggs. Bacon. Cheddar cheese and cream cheese. Milk. Salad makings in the vegetable drawer. An opened package of smoked salmon. A shrink-wrapped package of lean ground beef. Half a dozen peaches.

“Holy crap!” I said out loud.

Rigby came over to see what the fuss was about. She looked where I was looking, into the fridge. Like she expected to see something unusual. Then she looked at me, like she wanted to know what all the excitement was about.

I guess it looked normal to her. I guess she was used to the fact that lots of people live like this, with their refrigerators full of food. I’d completely forgotten.

I decided if there was cream cheese and smoked salmon, there must be bagels. So I looked on the counter. In the bread box.

I finally found them in the freezer.

I toasted up both halves of one and slathered them both with cream cheese and mounded them up with half the smoked salmon, which was twice what any normal person would have used.

Paul said he didn’t want to see one scrap of food left when he got back. And he would never know what I ate when. Only I would know that.

The idea of eating more than I really needed was so foreign by then. I’d had no idea how much I missed it.

Then I got this sudden impulse to save half for Sophie. But it hit me that there was more. Lots more. I could make her a whole other bagel, just like the one I was about to scarf down.

I took my first big bite and sighed. Literally just sat there at his kitchen table, not even chewing. Just tasting what I’d already bitten down on.

“This is the life, Rig,” I said, my mouth still full.

I found a trail down to the creek following Paul’s map. Rigby followed so close behind me that if I stopped for even a second, her nose bumped into my back.

The trees got closer in, and I kept catching the end of the fishing pole on the branches. Then I’d have to stop and make sure the line wasn’t tangled in the pine needles.

When we got to the creek, I looked down into the water. It was only maybe a foot deep, running clear with a wonderful sound. But if there had been fish in there, I would have seen them.

There were no fish.

I wished there’d been time to take
two
fishing lessons before Paul had to go away. Like maybe one lesson in stream fishing. So far, I only knew how to fish in a lake. And the lakes were too far away to walk there.