You Lucky Dog

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You Lucky Dog Page 32

by Julia London


  “They love everyone. But he sounds perfect. How’s school?”

  “Good. The dean approved my tenure and sent it forward, so the ball is rolling. I should have a final decision in a month. So, hey, have you talked to your mom recently?” he asked.

  Carly had been too busy to keep up with the family dramas. Mia had texted her, worried that neither parent answered her calls, or if they did, they were always too busy to talk. Something is not right, Carly, I’m telling you, she’d texted. And then she’d invariably launch into her complaints about morning sickness or the newest household catastrophe—Finn’s broken arm, earned when he climbed a ladder he found in the garage and tried to fly like Superman from it. I miss you so much, Mia had texted. I never realized how much I need you.

  Carly had never realized how much she needed Mia, either.

  “Not for a few days,” Carly said. “Why?”

  “Then you don’t know that they ended things.”

  Carly frowned. “Who ended what?”

  “My dad and your mother have ended their marriage. They split up.”

  Carly’s breath caught. That was impossible. They’d been married less than two weeks! She suddenly laughed. “If that’s your idea of a joke, it’s not funny, Dr. Sheffington, because that sounds too close to something my mother would do. Last I heard, your dad was packing up things and moving in.”

  “I wish I was kidding, but I’m not. It’s over.”

  The news caught Carly off guard, but part of her was not surprised—her mother was unpredictable. “Why?” she asked. “What happened?”

  “That’s the thing I think you should know. Seems like your dad is, umm . . . he’s back in the picture.”

  Carly gasped. All of Mia’s warnings began to clang in her head. “Oh my God,” she whispered. “You’re absolutely sure?”

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “He apologized to me for everything they put us through.”

  Carly didn’t know what she was supposed to feel, but fury leapt right to the top. “I knew something would happen. I told you—didn’t I tell you?”

  “You told me,” he agreed.

  “So now what? I mean, my mother and your dad got married, right?”

  “Yep,” Max said. “My dad says he’s filing for a dissolution. I guess what happens in Vegas . . .”

  “Stays in Vegas,” she muttered. “Oh my God, Max, your poor dad! How is he?”

  “He’s pretty fucking furious, to be honest. Apparently, your parents were chatting it up all along.”

  “Mia was right,” she muttered. “What about Jamie?”

  “He’s great,” Max said. “He wasn’t a fan of the arrangement.”

  “Me and Jamie both.” She fell back on her bed and closed her eyes. Somewhere above her, a couple was fighting, and down the hall, someone was singing off-key.

  “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news,” he said. “You’re doing okay?”

  “Me? Doing great. New York is so exciting.”

  “Is it me, or does that sound a little like a line from a podcast?”

  Carly and Max had not known each other very long, but he was good at reading her. He seemed to know when she was substituting enthusiasm for her true feelings.

  She sighed. “Busted. Honestly, it’s hard. I don’t know anyone and my apartment is far from work. But, you know, I signed a lease, and I’ve got health care, and it’s a job in my field which I am super excited about, and it’s a job that I never would get in Austin.”

  Max didn’t say anything for a moment. When he did, he sounded hoarse and weary. “That’s great. I’m so happy for you.”

  “You’re going to have to come visit,” she said eagerly.

  “Maybe someday,” he said vaguely.

  Another moment of silence passed. “Our timing sucks, doesn’t it?” Carly said softly.

  “Massively.” He sounded very far away to her. Like he was already fading from her life. “You should probably call your mom.”

  “I’m really looking forward to that. Hey . . . I’m coming for Baxter, you know.”

  He said nothing for a very long moment. “Hazel will be heartbroken.”

  “Hey, Max? I sincerely . . .” She swallowed, trying to find the right word.

  “You don’t have to thank me, Carly. I love Baxter, too.”

  “No, I wasn’t . . . I was going to say that I sincerely love you.” She said it in a near whisper. “I do. So much. I wish I was there, to tell you in person. But I want you to know.” She closed her eyes, waiting for him to speak.

  He groaned. “I love you, too, Carly. You will always be my right person at the wrong time.”

  That did not make her feel better, it made her feel that much sadder. “I’ll call you later?”

  There was another long silence, and she heard Max draw a shaky breath. “I think it’s best if we don’t.”

  Carly’s heart stopped. She slowly sat up. Panic began to fill in at her edges. “Why?”

  “Because this is too hard. Don’t you find this too hard?” he asked. “I walk around miserable half the time, with you up there and me down here, and just wanting to be with you. What are we even doing? We are the two unluckiest people in the world, but if this is it, we need to let it go.”

  “You mean like never speak?” she asked him. “We can’t just . . . check in?”

  “Baby . . . it’s a breakup. That’s the way these things go. I don’t know about you, but I need a minute. Do you understand? My heart . . . my heart is broken.”

  Carly couldn’t respond to that because her throat was thick with grief. She had no idea his heart was broken. She had no idea he was longing for her like that. He’d been nothing but supportive and . . . and she was such an idiot. What was she doing? Living in a box trying to be someone in a big pond when a guy like that was longing for her? But what was she supposed to do, give up everything she’d made of herself and all the goals she’d set because a man was into her?

  “Listen, you need to go live your life and I need to live mine. If we can’t make this work, then we need to let go.”

  “You are making this sound so final, Max.”

  “Carly . . . it is final. It’s been final. It was final the day you took a job in New York and I got the green light from my department’s tenure committee. We’re going in opposite directions.”

  There was no argument she could give him to make that any less true or this conversation any better. He was right—it wasn’t practical, and there was nothing that she could say to make it so. “But can’t we at least be friends?” she asked tearfully.

  “Of course we can. Always. I just need some time.”

  So that was that.

  When Carly clicked off the phone and looked around at her box of an apartment, she felt so sick that all she could do was curl around a pillow and listen to the fighting upstairs.

  She picked up one of her ridiculously expensive handbags to throw at the wall. It was a soft bag and wafted through the air. A piece of paper fluttered out of it and fell on her bed. She picked it up. It was the name of the singer from the Yard Bar. The girl with the beautiful voice and haunting music and absolutely no online presence.

  Carly tacked the paper to her wall, then grabbed her things and went out in search of a bar.

  Twenty-Seven

  Two Months Later

  New York City

  It was sleeting, and traffic was snarled, and Carly was going to be late. She kept leaning forward to peer out the front window of the cab.

  “That ain’t going to help,” the cabbie said.

  “You’re killing me,” she muttered, and dug her phone out. She’d been at a photo shoot on the Upper East Side today. She’d discovered a woman who made fascinators of iconic New York sights. The little shop was adjoined to an art gallery that was currently featuring impressionist a
rt that reminded her of Jamie’s paintings.

  The fascinators were delightful, and Ramona loved them. She loved everything Carly was doing. Priyana, who shared cube space with Carly, had the most luxurious thick hair Carly had ever seen and the worst scowl. She rolled her eyes when Ramona stopped by one day to tell Carly to keep up the good work. “She likes you now, but just wait. When she turns, she turns.”

  She hadn’t turned yet, and had given Carly the green light to get some professional photos of the fascinators. The only day the designer could do it was today. Today. The day she was going to see Max again.

  It had been a very pleasant surprise to receive his text. They’d been texting a little here and there, mostly about the dogs. She’d assumed, when he’d finally texted her out of the blue with a hi, how are you, a few weeks after their breakup, that he’d gotten over it. She’d done an admirable job of restraining herself and not bombarding him with questions. She wanted to know everything, but more than that, she desperately wanted him in her life. She still loved him. She missed him desperately.

  And then he’d made her day, her week, her month and sent her a picture of Baxter and Hazel side by side, looking up.

  OMG! They are adorable! However, B is looking a little chonky. What’s our rule about mac and cheese?

  Your rule is that he doesn’t get any. My rule is he does if H does because it’s only fair. I’m wondering if you’re up for dinner next Wednesday? I’m in town to make a speech. Quick trip, in and out, but I’d love to see you if you are available.

  Was he kidding? She would leap tall buildings in a single bound if he asked.

  Not only am I available, I am so excited to see you. I know a great restaurant. Cuban Japanese fusion! I haven’t actually been there, but I’ve heard it’s great. I’ll make a reservation and text you the addy. 7?

  Perfect. Looking forward to it.

  Not as much as she was! She’d brought clothes with her to the photo shoot, and used a back room to change. The shoot had run late, because of course it did, and it had taken forever to get a cab. But at last, the cab pulled up outside the restaurant and she dashed inside.

  She spotted him instantly. He was standing at the hostess desk in a long trench coat and a knit cap—a new one, she noted. He had a scruff of a beard and he was wearing his glasses. Carly’s heart began to race. She was astonishingly nervous. Max was the most gorgeous thing—did she know that about him? Had she appreciated just how gorgeous he was? And it wasn’t just her—the hostess was all googly-eyed as she chatted him up.

  “Max,” Carly said.

  He turned, and his eyes went all soft and light. “Carly.” He opened his arms, and she walked right into them, like she’d never left Austin. He kissed her like a friend, a quick peck, and then smiled down at her. “You cut your hair.”

  “I did! It’s a lob now.”

  “Nice hat,” he said, smiling with amusement.

  She put her hand to her head. She’d forgotten she was wearing a fascinator shaped like a blue Tiffany box. “Oh. Well, that’s a story.”

  Max grinned. “I can’t wait to hear it.”

  The suddenly pouty hostess took their coats and Max’s hat, and Carly swore his hair tumbled out of it like a shampoo commercial, except that it wasn’t that long. He was wearing the outfit she’d put together for him when he’d made his presentation for tenure.

  At the table, they ordered drinks and Max started by asking about her job. They never stopped talking. They hardly stopped long enough to order. But Carly wasn’t interested in food. She told him about the fascinators, how Ramona really liked her work. He told her that he was getting an endowment that would be more money for research and more money for him.

  She asked about Jamie. Max said he was doing great. He was in a home that housed six adults with special needs, run by a retired couple whose daughter had Down syndrome. The adults shared a kitchen, but Jamie had his own room, and there was a yard for Duke. Another resident had a collie for a service dog, and Duke and Molly had quickly become inseparable. Jamie’s artwork was already appearing on the walls of the house. He rode the bus every day to the ACC and came home to his dad’s house on weekends. He still had never missed a shift of work.

  “There is an art gallery on the Upper East Side where I could see his work,” Carly said. “He could make a fortune.”

  Max smiled and looked at the food on his plate.

  “What about your dad?” Carly asked. “How is he after . . . you know.”

  “Now there is a man who knows how to bounce back,” Max said with a wink. He reported that their parents’ annulment was on a court docket in Vegas next month, and that his dad and some of his buddies were flying out to make a weekend out of it. He said his dad was back to his old self and joking about the time he’d lost his damn mind. Carly told him that her parents were planning on remarrying, but that they were going to do it in private, and none of the children were invited. “I don’t think they want a peanut gallery,” she said.

  Max said there had been a feature about Victor Allen in the Austin American-Statesman recently, and a picture of him standing next to a bridal gown, and that he was wearing a long skirt himself.

  Carly laughed. “He’s someone else who can bounce back very fast and very high. He’s been trying to talk me into doing some work for him, but I already have a crazy job.” She told him Mia had finally found a nanny, which was good, because this pregnancy was a hard one for her.

  Max said Baxter and Hazel loved the new dog walker. He asked if she still planned to come and get Baxter.

  The question made her infinitely sad. “I don’t know,” she said, and it hurt so much to say that. It hurt so much to admit that what was best for Baxter was not best for her. “He seems very happy with you. I don’t think he’d be happy in my tiny apartment, and me gone all day.”

  Max smiled sympathetically. “It would be hard on you both.”

  When they had finished what they were going to eat of their meal, Carly put her fork down and said, “May I ask you a personal question? A nosy one?”

  “What, you didn’t google beforehand?” he teased her.

  “Of course I did. But you are notoriously bad about posting news.”

  “That, I am. What do you want to know?”

  “Are you dating the other professor?” she blurted. It had been a worry since he’d popped back up in her texts. The idea that he was over their breakup because he’d moved on.

  He looked confused. “What other professor?”

  “You know . . . the one who was up for tenure.”

  Max blinked. “Alanna?” He suddenly grinned. “No. First of all, she is transferring to Rutgers. And second, that was definitely a one-night kind of thing.” His eyes moved over her face. “What about you? Are you dating anyone?”

  She shook her head. “No. I haven’t met anyone who comes close to measuring up to the last guy.”

  Max said nothing. He held her gaze for one very interminable moment. He reached across the table for her hand. She slipped it into his palm and it felt as if everything they hadn’t said the day they broke up was churning between them.

  But then Max looked at his watch.

  “Need to go?” Carly asked as her heart plummeted.

  “I have a super early flight in the morning and a class tomorrow afternoon.” He glanced up and smiled. He pulled his hand free of hers. “This has been great. It’s so good to see you.”

  Carly tried to smile, but she felt a little sick. “Are we friends now?”

  “Always, Carly.”

  He paid the check and they got their coats and he put on his beanie, and they stood at the window looking out at the icy sleet coming down. Carly was shivering. Max put his arm around her. She closed her eyes a moment, relishing the feel of him. Missing it so terribly.

  “I’m going to get a cab. Can
I drop you somewhere?” he asked.

  “No, I’m going to walk up the block and get a train home.”

  “Ready?” he asked. “You’re shivering.”

  She wasn’t shivering because of the cold. Because she couldn’t bear this goodbye, either. “Ready,” she said.

  They stepped out onto the street. Max went to the curb and put up his hand. At a stoplight up the street, a cab put on its blinker and turned off its taxi light, indicating it was coming for Max.

  Max looked back at Carly. “Carly, I . . .” The light turned green and the traffic started rolling through the intersection.

  “I miss you,” he said.

  “What?”

  “I just miss you so much,” he said. “Me and the dogs. We think about you all the time.”

  The cab pulled up to the curb. Max opened the car door. But he looked back at Carly and he looked panicked.

  “Max, I—”

  “Listen,” he said, and grabbed her hand. “I should have said this earlier. Or maybe I shouldn’t say anything, I don’t know. But if anything ever changes . . . Jesus, I am bad at this.” He took both her hands. Someone behind the cab honked. “I miss you so damn much. I love you. It’s not over for me, it’s never going to be over, and I knew you got your hair cut and you wear buildings and boxes on your head because I google you, and I just can’t stop and I need you to tell me to stop.”

  “Max!” she cried, and cupped his face with her mittened hands. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  “Because you have your job here, and nothing has changed, and I would never ask you to give up your life for me. It’s just wishful thinking, but I can’t stop wishing, and I . . . I wish for you all the fucking time.”

  Carly’s heart swelled in her chest, pushing against her ribs. She put her arms around him and kissed him. Max threw his arm around her waist and moaned into her mouth and kissed her back. It was a lovely kiss. A beautiful kiss. It was the best kiss of her life.

  And then, just like that, he faded away from her and got in the cab and drove away.

 

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