Juliette and the Monday ManDates

by Becky Doughty

  Instead of the silence she expected in answer to her questions, a pitiful whimper made her sit up and look over her shoulder. Beyond the tree was a row of tall bushes, and the sound came from there. She stood and scanned the greenery for any sign of movement; sure enough, beneath one of the shrubs, a scruffy little dog lay curled in on itself. It gazed up at her with baleful eyes, and its tail flopped pitifully in response to her approach.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  “HI, PUPPY. ARE YOU okay?" Juliette had never owned a dog and didn't know exactly how to handle the situation, but she didn't want to do anything to make it feel cornered. She couldn't tell if it was hurt or not, but she could see the outline of ribs and the pronounced ridges of each vertebrae running down the dog's back. The shoulder blades and hip bones protruded sharply beneath the skin as well. "Oh, puppy, you must be starving."

  Her heart broke as the dog tried to push itself up, then collapsed back into a heap with another whimper, its eyes never leaving Juliette's face. She couldn't just leave it there, but she knew better than to crawl under the bushes for it. "Come on, puppy. You need to come out. Come to me." She knelt on the grass a few feet away from the dog, her heart aching as it dragged itself out on its belly. She stayed where she was, coaxing, pleading, urging, until it was close enough to touch.

  "Please don't bite me, okay? I want to help you." She reached out a hand, palm up, and rested it on the grass in front of the dog's nose. The pitiful thing stuck out its tongue and licked her fingers. She eased her hand up and tentatively scratched its ears, stroked its shoulders, and ran her hand down the bony back. "You're coming home with me, okay? Will you do that?"

  She stood slowly so as not to startle it but the dog only thumped its tail a few times. It wasn't as small as it had seemed curled up under the hedge, but it didn't look like it weighed much, and Juliette was fairly certain she could carry the creature home without any problem. It didn't even struggle when she scooped it up in her arms. Wrinkling her nose at the smell emanating off the unkempt fur, she headed back along the path that lead out of the park.

  By the time she reached home, the dog was like dead weight in her rubbery arms. Inside her garage, she lay the dog down on a rag rug door mat, then stood, massaging her aching limbs. It rested its head on its paws again and watched her intently, but the tail no longer moved.

  Juliette dug her phone out of her pocket and dialed Renata's number, hoping she'd be home from church by now, and would pick up her phone. They'd only spoken briefly since their discussion over Tim Larsen, but Juliette desperately needed her sister now. The Dixons had two Labradors; Renata would know what to do.

  Renata answered, much to Juliette's relief, and she rushed in. "Hey Ren, I just brought a stray dog home, and I think it's almost dead. It's really skinny, but it's so sweet and trusting, and I just couldn't leave it at the park. I don't know the first thing to do for it, though, and oh, my goodness, it stinks."

  "Slow down, Juliette. You brought home a stray from the park? What were you thinking?"

  "I know, I know. But you wouldn't have left it there either."

  "Have you given it any water or food?"

  "I don't have any dog food." Juliette was beginning to panic as she thought quickly about the contents of her refrigerator and pantry. "Can I give it tuna?"

  "No. What about water? I know you have that."

  She covered the mouthpiece with her hand and made eye contact with the dog. "Hold on," she said to the animal. "I'll be right back." She hurried into the kitchen for a bowl, then returned to the garage and filled it with water from the laundry sink. She set it down in front of the dog and stepped back. The animal raised its head and sniffed the dish, then began to lap up the liquid until it was completely gone.

  "Wow. Poor thing was really thirsty. Should I get it some more?"

  "No, not yet." Renata directed her from the other end of the line. "Wait and see if that stays down. If it hasn't had anything to eat or drink in a while, it might gorge itself, and then throw up all over the place. Just give it a little at a time."

  The dog stared up at Juliette. She crouched down to stroke the fur over its ribcage, and was delighted to see the tail wag a few times. "Now what?" she asked.

  "You need to call the animal shelter and have them come pick it up, Juliette. You don't want a dog, and you certainly don't want a stray."

  "Who says I don't want a dog?"

  "You?" Renata scoffed. "A dog? Since when have you ever wanted a dog?"

  "I've been thinking about it recently," she said, her tone defensive.

  "Recently...as in the last half hour, since you stumbled across this one?"

  "No, as in the last couple of months. Since I left Mike."

  "Juliette."

  "What? I have! And this dog needs me. I don't want to call the pound." She rubbed the velvety ears between her thumb and finger, surprised at how soft the fur was there.

  Renata took a deep breath and let it out slowly, as if preparing to talk to a child. "You still have to call the shelter. It's for your own good, Juliette. For you and the dog. They'll quarantine it to make sure it's not sick or rabid, give it vaccines if it lives, spay or neuter it, and if no one claims it, then you can take it back for a nominal fee. It's worth every penny."

  Juliette rolled her eyes and stood up, wrinkling her nose as she sniffed her fingertips. "Fine. I'll call them when I get off the phone. But this dog is mine." She hadn't realized until that moment that her mind was made up.

  "Do you need me to come over? I can bring some dog food."

  Juliette couldn't believe what she was hearing. "Really? On a Sunday? What about your guys?"

  Renata's voice was like a tire gone flat. "John's taken the boys out to lunch. It's a guy thing, you know; a man and his sons. So," there was a brief pause, as though she was choosing her words with care. "I guess I'm free to do as I please this afternoon. Shall I come over?"

  "Oh, Ren, that would be great. I would feel so much better if you were here." Juliette could tell there was more to the story than what Renata was telling her, and she confirmed it with her next words.

  "I'd feel better if I were there, too, instead of sitting here staring at the walls. I'll be right over, bearing flea and tick shampoo and dog food." She hung up before Juliette could even say good-bye.

  RENATA, NOSE WRINKLED the moment she walked into the open garage, insisted they bathe the dog immediately, and it took a surprising amount of effort to keep the suddenly energetic animal in the deep laundry sink. Once clean and dried, though, the dog looked much more presentable, and he certainly smelled better. Juliette loaned her sister a clean set of clothes, and they took turns showering while the dog slept, exhausted by its bath-time adventure. When Juliette emerged from the bathroom, Renata had lunch ready for them and was filling a bowl with food for Tootles, who was lying on an old blanket on the kitchen floor where they could keep an eye on him.

  Renata had confirmed that, yes, the dog was in fact a male. She also didn't think he was very old; pointing out that he still had a few of his sharp baby teeth intact. "He must have been born on the streets, poor guy. I wonder what happened to his mommy. He's just a little lost boy."

  And that was how Juliette came up with his name, after one of the lost boys from Never Land.

  Renata placed the bowl of food in front of the sleeping dog while Juliette poured a couple glasses of iced tea for them, then they sat down to share their meal. Without really thinking about what she was doing, Juliette grabbed Renata's hand. "Do you mind if I pray today?"

  Renata hesitated momentarily, then shrugged. "Sure."

  "God, thanks for my sister. And thanks for Tootles. And thanks for the sandwiches. Amen." She smiled shyly across the table, knowing she needed some practice before she could sound anything like her sister. Renata stared at her with raised eyebrows.

  "You're really serious about this, aren't you?"

  "About what?" Juliette didn't know if she was referring to her prayer or the dog.


  "Your faith," Renata clarified. "You're really taking this whole thing seriously."

  She nodded, and took a bite of her sandwich. They ate in silence until Renata nudged her, and tipped her head toward the dog. Too tired or too lazy to get up, Tootles had scooted over to the bowl and was eating the food while still resting on his belly.

  "He is pretty cute," Renata conceded.

  Juliette grinned like a proud parent. "I know." She had called the animal shelter and learned they had emergency staff only on Sundays, so Juliette offered to keep the dog until Monday when there would be more help available.

  "So tell me exactly how you found him," Renata asked. In the flurry of activity, there'd been no chance to discuss the details of Juliette's morning walk.

  "Well, I skipped church this morning so I decided to take my Bible down to the park—oh! My Bible! I left it on the bench!" Juliette jumped up from her seat. "I need to go back and get it. My notebook, too."

  Renata frowned up at her. "I didn't know you had a Bible."

  "You gave it to me; don't you remember?"

  "You kept that?" Renata's surprise made Juliette smile.

  "Of course, silly. I wasn't going to throw a Bible away. I was too afraid I'd get struck by lightning or something."

  "Wonders never cease," Renata quipped. "Well, I'm glad you kept it. I'm glad you're using the Bible I gave you." She pushed her chair back and stood up. "So, what are we waiting for? We need to go find that Bible!"

  Turning to the dog, she said, "Tootles, you're coming too. We don't know what kind of house guest you are. And no barfing in my car, do you hear?"

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  THEY DROVE THE SHORT distance to the park and Renata ordered Juliette to stay with Tootles in the car while she went in search of the Bible. She returned quite some time later, books in hand, just as Juliette was beginning to worry.

  Once in the car, instead of driving away, she just sat there. Juliette waited, but didn't say anything. She knew if Renata wanted to talk about something, she would. Finally, the younger woman spoke, not looking at Juliette, just staring straight ahead through the windshield.

  "I wasn't snooping, okay? But when I got to the bench, your notebook had blown open, and I saw the first page." She took a deep breath. "I have to ask. Are you writing to Angela Clinton?"

  Juliette looked down at the notebook where it now rested on the floor at her feet. She hadn't planned on talking to any of her sisters about Angela, at least not yet, and especially not Renata. She didn't want her judging her or bossing her around, but the decision had been taken out of her hands.

  "Well, the thought had occurred to me." Juliette shrugged. "But as you saw, I didn't get very far."

  Renata snorted. "No, you didn't. How long did it take you to write her name?"

  "I don't know. Half an hour, maybe."

  "It took me two days," Renata stated, finally meeting Juliette's gaze in the rear view mirror. "Once I even made it as far as 'How are you?' before I realized that's probably one of the stupidest things I could ever ask a girl in prison. Usually, I just stare at her name for way too long, then crumple up the paper and throw it away."

  Juliette reached up and put a hand on her sister's shoulder.

  "I know. Pitiful, isn't it?" Renata shook her head. "But I keep thinking she probably needs to hear something from us so she can have some closure. I just have no clue what to say to her."

  "Oh, Rennie," Juliette murmured. "You're worried about Angela needing closure? Why is that your responsibility?"

  "Because it's what I do, Juliette. I...I fix things. I clean up after everyone else. I straighten up the messes so we can all get on with living. Just like I did for you and Tootles today." Renata reached a hand back and scratched one of the dog's ears. "It's who I am."

  Juliette let her sister's words course through the filter of her new awareness, and heard, for the first time, Renata's perspective on the way life had been for them all those years ago. She closed her eyes and saw her sister, sixteen years old, stepping up to bat when Juliette stayed in bed. She heard Renata's voice telling the others to brush their teeth, do their homework, put their dishes in the sink, listen to Granny G, when her own voice was silent, absent altogether. She remembered Renata's fingers sweeping her tangled hair away from her face, and kissing her on the forehead, as she whispered, "Goodnight, sweet Juliette." Just the way Maman used to do. The lump in her throat was making it hard to breathe.

  "Is that how it was for you? Did you have to clean up after the mess Angela made? Did you feel like you had to fix everything so we could get on with life?"

  Renata reached down and turned the key in the ignition. "I don't really know. I don't think I really felt much of anything. I just went into auto-pilot, and that's what came out of me." She checked for traffic and pulled away from the curb, heading back to Juliette's place. "I'm a fixer. I fix things. I organize things. I do."

  "And what did I do?" Juliette asked, already knowing the answer. "I just disappeared. I shut down. I just stopped living for a while." She caught Renata's gaze in the rear view mirror. "But you. How did I not see what it was doing to you? You just stepped up and filled all of our empty shoes, didn't you?" She shook her head. "That was a lot of shoes for a teenage girl to fill, Rennie; not only Maman's and Papa's, but mine, too."

  "Don't say that. I just covered for you while you took care of being at that trial for the rest of us. We couldn't go, remember? You had to carry that burden on your own. I might not have been old enough to sit in court with you, but I was old enough to know it was more than one of us should ever have to go through alone. I couldn't imagine sitting in the same room as that girl, but you did it day after day for us. Your whole life got rerouted; graduation, college plans, your future. Even your trip to Hawaii with Sharon. It wouldn't have been the same with just Granny G and Grandpa there. We needed to know that one of us was representing us. At least I did." Their eyes met in the mirror again. "Don't belittle that sacrifice, Juliette. I saw how it affected you." Renata sniffled, and a single tear made a track down the curve of her cheek. "Someone needed to be strong while you were being stronger. I was next in line." She paused before continuing, a little hesitantly. "I think I did okay, don't you?"

  Juliette nodded, unable to speak as she dealt with this new version of things. How could she have been so self-centered?

  "You were amazing, Renata. You still are. And I'm sorry it's taken me fifteen years to tell you that."

  Renata parked the van, sat very still in the ensuing silence after the car was off, then turned a little in her seat. "Well, thank you, Juliette. It means a lot to hear that from you." It was as if a switch had been flipped and suddenly the familiar, abrasive Renata was back. "I just wish other people in my life would realize that too. I do have some personal worth, you know. I'm not just a label. I'm not just a soccer mom or a church lady or...or a bee with an itch." She wouldn't cuss even if someone paid her to.

  "I know that." Juliette was taken aback by the shift in her sister's demeanor.

  "You're the only one, then." And Renata climbed out of the car and closed the door, carefully, but firmly, as though closing the door on the conversation. Juliette had seen the look on her sister's face a thousand times before; they were done talking about this subject.

  Renata excused herself to make a phone call. When she returned from Juliette's bedroom, there were traces of more tears in her eyes, but her face was closed, her mouth clamped in a look of determination that brooked no argument. It was a face that hurt Juliette's heart.

  "I really should get going. Are you and Tootles going to be all right?"

  "Of course we are. But are you okay?"

  "I'm fine, Juliette." Her flippant tone said otherwise.

  "Do you need help with anything? You put off getting your stuff done to come help me. Maybe I can return the favor."

  "Don't be silly, Juliette. I only did it for Tootles." She ran a foot down the curve of the dog's back. "You don't
tell me I'm too controlling, do you, Tootles?"

  It was like a slap in the face. This was the Renata she was accustomed to, but after their conversation today, she'd hoped things might be a little different between them.

  Renata scooped her purse off the counter and crossed the room to where Juliette still sat at the table. She reached down and gave her a quick, perfunctory hug. "Don't get up. I'll see myself out."

  Juliette stood up and followed her sister out the front door anyway. "Ren?"

  "Yes?" Renata paused on the sidewalk and turned around, an overly-bright smile on her face.

  "Thank you. If Tootles could talk, I'm sure he'd tell you himself, but I want you to know how much we both appreciate you coming over and helping us out."

  "Of course. I'm glad someone needed me today." Then she turned on her heels and practically jogged to her car. Juliette thought she saw her swipe at her eyes as she pulled away.

  She wandered back inside, feeling low all over again, but this time for Renata, too.

  In the kitchen, Juliette dropped down on the floor beside Tootles, who snuffled and sighed, and looked up at her with shining eyes.

  "I'm tired of hurting, Tootles, and I'm tired of watching other people hurting, too." He turned his head and licked her knee with his long, pink tongue, as if to assure her that he was feeling much better, thanks to her. The scripture from Michelle drifted into her head.

  Come to Me all who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.

  "That's you and me, puppy. We're heavy laden, aren't we?" She was surprised at how nice it felt to have someone around to talk to. She sat back against the cabinets and closed her eyes, listening to the sounds Tootles made; his breathing, the periodic thumping of his tail against the floor. Who would have guessed that a humble little stray would come to mean so much to her so quickly?