Two Hearts Forever

by Harper Bliss

  “He’ll be fine, Anna. He’s not a baby.”

  “He’s my baby.” I wriggle out of our embrace. “He’ll be bursting. Poor thing.”

  “Am I going to have to turn into the kind of woman who has to fight for your affections with a dog? Because it’s not a fair fight, you know. Hemingway’s too cute. And you’ve known him for much longer.”

  “I’ve never been in a romantic relationship and had a dog at the same time,” I say. “So we’ll have to see how that plays out.”

  Zoe rolls her eyes at me, but she’s still smiling. “I’ll go see how Brooklyn’s getting on.”

  I can’t wait for Brooklyn to leave for school. But there’s no way out of this apartment, as far as I know, other than through the living area. It’s not as if Brooklyn doesn’t know I was here. But perhaps she hadn’t expected me to stay the night. I don’t know if Zoe has talked to her about that. I don’t know much about how this mother-daughter thing works. I’ve never dated a woman with a child before.

  “Hi, Anna,” Brooklyn says, as though she hadn’t expected anything else of the morning than me exiting her mother’s bedroom. “Have you talked to Mom about going to the dog shelter?” She lets the spoon with which she’s eating cereal dangle in front of her mouth and looks from me to Zoe and back.

  “We can go on Sunday,” Zoe says. “After lunch at the Gunns.”

  “Sweet,” Brooklyn says. “Maybe Jaden can come as well, then.”

  “We’re just going to see the dog with Anna,” Zoe says. “Don’t get any ideas in your head, okay?”

  “Of course not.” Brooklyn’s trying to sound innocent, even I can tell. “Thanks again for that painting, Anna.” She sends me the sweetest smile. It’s no wonder us Gunns, Jaden and I, are so defenseless against these Perez women. I do wonder how the battle of wills will play out between mother and daughter Perez when we’re at the dog shelter. If I don’t fall madly in love with the little creature myself first.

  “Maybe next time you can have a go,” I say, to change the subject, because I do feel a bit guilty for putting the dog idea into Brooklyn’s head.

  “Awesome. Can I come over again this weekend?” Brooklyn says.

  “Take it easy, mija.” I can see a look pass between them. “Leave it to Anna to invite you.”

  “I’ll let you know,” I say to Brooklyn, while thanking Zoe inwardly. “But I’m sure we can arrange something soon.”

  Zoe taps her wrist. “Time for you to go, sweetheart. Come on, give your mother a kiss.”

  Time for me to go as well, I think, but I don’t want to interrupt their moment. Being with Cynthia seemed so simple compared to this. There were no children or pets to be taken into account. The headache is moving from the back of my skull to behind my eyes. When I finally make it home, I might just crash into the couch and take a proper, undisturbed nap.

  “Bye, Anna.” Brooklyn gives me a quick wave and then she’s off. The energy in Zoe’s apartment is different instantly and I can feel myself relax a little.

  “Do you want some coffee?” Zoe asks.

  “I really have to go.”

  “Maybe next time you should bring Hemingway. Brooklyn would love it.” Zoe walks toward me. “We can get him a cushion like the one he has at home and make up a nice space for him.”

  There’s so much to unpack in what Zoe has just said, but my brain is too unrested to even start. After last night with Brooklyn, and the night and morning I had with Zoe, I’m in dire need of some urgent low-sensory input time. My inability to stay away from Zoe might actually get me into trouble. I make a mental note to discuss this with April next time, so she can help me come up with some coping strategies.

  “I really have to go now, Zoe. I’ll stop by the store later.” I give her a quick kiss, find my shoes, and stumble down the stairs.

  Once outside, I take a deep breath. As I walk home, my brain gets flooded with image after image of Zoe, Brooklyn and their inevitable new dog living in my house—Jaden hanging out there frequently as well. By the time I unlock my front door, Hemingway softly barking on the other side of it, the image of future chaos has me in such a panic, all I can do is crouch next to Hemingway and bury my face in his fur while I apologize to him profusely. Not that he understands a word of it. Once I get my bearings, he looks pretty unperturbed.

  I let him into the backyard and make myself a cup of coffee and take some ibuprofen for my headache. My morning routine has been shot to pieces. I’m so tired I might fall asleep standing up. I shiver at the prospect of having other people living in my carefully decorated house, making a mess everywhere. But, strangely, the one thought piercing through all this anxiety that I know can start spinning out of control any second now, is that I’m so in love with Zoe, that I would find a way to cope. It’s my willingness to find a way, if I ever had to, that makes me feel like I’m alive. I feel the spark of it glow deep inside me—a spark I didn’t even know I needed, but now that I have it, I want to feel it again and again. It’s the spark of aliveness and possibility and, most of all, of being okay with not knowing what exactly is going to happen next. Because whatever does happen, Zoe will be there beside me.

  16

  Zoe

  On Sunday afternoon, I’m driving toward the animal shelter, with Anna in the passenger seat, and Brooklyn and Jaden in the back, and, as I glance in the rearview mirror, to keep an eye on my daughter and her boyfriend, I am grateful that I at least don’t have any room left in my car for a dog. Not even the small one that Anna’s been showing me pictures of, and that we’re all about to meet.

  “Have you asked Hemingway how he would feel about getting a brother?” I ask, stupidly.

  “Of course,” Anna says, playing along. “He would love it. Especially on the nights when I leave him home alone without telling him first.”

  We chuckle. On the backseat, Brooklyn and Jaden are lost in their own private conversation, huddled over one of their phones. How do teenagers even have time to take care of a dog if they’re glued to their phone all the time?

  “But seriously though,” I implore and turn my gaze to Anna for an instant. “You have given this some thought?”

  “Do I come across as the kind of person who doesn’t give things enough thought?” Anna asks. “If so, I need to work on my image.” She smiles at me and it’s as though her smiles, also, have become more forward, more daring and at ease. She no longer shies away from making jokes about herself—or me. “I just want to meet him and see how that makes me, and him, feel.” Anna puts a hand on my knee. “To see if we have any chemistry. Then, I will know.”

  “Fair enough.” I remind myself that this is about Anna, not about Brooklyn getting a dog to replace the affection that she lost when Eve left. I turn into the street my GPS has guided me to. “We’re here.”

  Brooklyn jumps out of the car, quickly followed by Jaden.

  “Let’s do this,” Anna says, her voice suddenly a little tighter.

  As though Brooklyn has developed a sixth sense for this particular dog, she finds its cage immediately. My daughter clearly has no time to exchange any niceties with the staff at the shelter. She hasn’t even seen the dog in real life and already seems in love with it.

  Jaden, this tall, dirty-blond boy with gangly limbs, who looks nothing like his aunt, seems to have caught the sausage-dog-loving bug already as well. They look more like children than teenagers all of a sudden—a sight that certainly appeals to me, what with Brooklyn growing up so fast. In many ways, they are still children. They still have so much to learn, so much to experience, so much joy and heartache ahead of them. Maybe a dog would be a good companion for Brooklyn on her way to adulthood, I find myself thinking, as though simply being at the shelter, with all the barking going on around me, and the few cute dog faces I’ve already spotted, will push me over the edge just like that.

  “I’ll unlock Boomer’s cage,” Venus, the woman who welcomed us, says.

  “We might have to change his name,” Anna w
hispers to me as we follow Venus through the narrow corridor until we reach Boomer’s cage.

  “Oh my God,” Anna exclaims, as though, she too, has already fallen under its spell. What is it with this dog?

  Boomer gets all excited when we enter his cage and tries to jump up and down on his tiny legs. It is an adorable sight to behold.

  “His owner passed away quite suddenly, and no one in the family could take the dog,” Venus says. “He’s very well trained. Very sociable. Not the youngest, although you couldn’t tell from his behavior.” She scratches Boomer behind the ear.

  Maybe the dog has some sort of magical power because just being near its sheer exuberance and eagerness to be loved does something to me on the inside. It melts the last part of resistance that I had about Brooklyn and I owning a dog, because, now that I’m standing next to him, feeling his soft hair for the first time, I can’t imagine how it could ever be a chore to take care of this cute little thing. But I also know that I need to be the adult in this situation. Of course, my daughter is going to be smitten with this dog, and I can’t expect her boyfriend to be the voice of maturity. I could perhaps, expect it from Anna, but one glance at her and I know she’s more enamored than any of us.

  “I think we have chemistry,” Anna says.

  “Boomer has a way with people,” Venus says.

  “How come he hasn’t been adopted yet?” I ask.

  “The family who wanted to adopt him didn’t pass our background check,” she says, matter-of-factly, as though screening for something much more serious than suitability to adopt a pet.

  “I’ve already adopted a dog,” Anna says. “I passed the test.”

  Boomer is getting beside himself because of all the human attention currently being bestowed upon him.

  Anna and Venus get into a conversation about Hemingway while I look at Brooklyn. Whether it was hers and Anna’s intention to bowl over my maternal heart or not, my defenses are sufficiently weakened to say yes to this dog right here and now. Just the thought of Boomer, with all his enthusiasm and pent-up love, having to stay in this cage for one night longer tugs at my heartstrings. But we came here for Anna.

  Brooklyn looks at me and in her glance I see the girl she once was—the girl she can sometimes still be. I see how much that girl wants this dog and I know I won’t be able to refuse her. I don’t much feel like refusing myself either.

  “Do you want to take him for a walk?” Venus asks. “See what he’s like?”

  Brooklyn nods ferociously.

  Venus puts Boomer on a leash and we let Brooklyn and Jaden walk him around.

  “What do you think?” I ask, when Anna and I are alone.

  “I think that I’m about to witness what it’s like to be a mother and to not be able to say no to your child, despite the many arguments against it you may have in your head.” She adds, with an innocent tone, “Anyway, wouldn’t he make the perfect birthday present for Brooklyn?”

  “Wouldn’t he just?” I give her my most skeptical look. “But we came here for you, didn’t we?” I study her face. It doesn’t look any different.

  “I would adopt that dog in a heartbeat,” Anna says. “But if you and Brooklyn want him, you should get him. I already have a dog. I already know what it’s like. How amazing it is to see his face first thing in the morning. To have an animal love you like that, and to love it right back. More than adopting another dog, I want you and Brooklyn to experience that as well.”

  Whatever fight I was willing to put up has left me now as well.

  “It’s not as if I’m never going to see Boomer if you adopt him,” Anna says.

  “I haven’t said yes yet.”

  “Maybe not,” Anna says, “but who are you kidding?”

  17

  Anna

  Three Years Later

  I wake, and Shadow’s head is on my leg, the way it is every morning. When I stir to take off my eye mask, he opens his dark little eyes and looks at me for a few seconds, the time it takes for his dog brain to realize it’s morning and he gets to enjoy another amazing day in his doggie life. Then he jumps up and walks all over me, waking Zoe in the process.

  After I’ve taken out my ear plugs, also like I do every morning, I say, “God, you’ve spoiled that dog.” It has become my version of, “Good Morning, Beautiful.”

  “It wasn’t me, babe.” Zoe scoots closer to me.

  “It was all down to Brooklyn,” we say in unison.

  The familiarity of this scene warms my heart. But then I’m hit with the same bout of nerves that tensed my muscles as soon as I opened my eyes. Pets can have that effect on you, make you forget about your worries for a brief while. What they can’t do is take your worries away entirely. Today, I have many things to worry about.

  “Did you sleep well?” Zoe asks, and slings a leg over me.

  “Lots of tossing and turning.”

  “I didn’t notice.” She kisses me on the cheek. “Are you nervous about the thing?”

  “Is it too late to cancel?” Shadow knows we’re not the type to jump out of bed immediately and cater to his needs. He lies down on the side of the bed to wait until one of us gets up.

  “Way too late.” Zoe snuggles up to me a little closer. “But I’m proud of you for doing it already.”

  Over the years, I’ve learned to cope with anxiety better, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still there. This morning’s flare-up is huge and all-encompassing, to the point of almost being paralyzing.

  “Hey,” Zoe whispers in my ear. “What’s the worst that can happen?” She kisses me softly again. “It’s just book club.”

  Zoe set up a monthly book club at Bookends a couple of years ago, but I’ve never attended. I like to read, but I’ve never felt any need to discuss what I’ve just read with a bunch of other people, to listen to all their opinions and their endless blah-blah. I’d rather be reading another book. I’m not one for group activities as it is. But tonight, I’m attending Zoe’s book club, because she asked me to. Because the book they’ve been reading is, perhaps, one I can discuss with the group. Or not. I don’t know. The point is that I promised Zoe I would be there. That I would do that for her, because I know it means a lot to her.

  “Maybe to you it is just book club,” I say, unable to keep the sulk out of my voice.

  “You love books, babe. And you love me. You know everyone who’s going to be there. It’s going to be just fine.”

  I try to do the exercise April taught me, to be aware of my anxiety as just a thought, as opposed to something real that’s actually happening, and to then cut through it with rationality. Which is not an easy thing to do. It has taken me years of practice to get the hang of it even a little bit, and this morning, it’s like I never learned to do it at all.

  “I can’t get the better of my nerves.” I turn on my side so I can look at Zoe’s face, which always calms me down.

  “You don’t have to give a speech, babe. Just answer a few questions. Seeing as everybody there knows you, they won’t expect you to have suddenly turned into the most eloquent resident of Donovan Grove.”

  “I blame Janet for this, you know. With all her second mountain bullshit.”

  “It’s not bullshit. It’s real life stuff. It’s small acts that make a difference.”

  “I just don’t like being the center of attention.”

  “I know.” Zoe brings a hand to my cheek. “At least you know that you never have to worry about being that when I’m around.” The thing about Zoe is that she actually means it when she says this, it’s only partly a joke, and I love her even more for it. Zoe has been many things to me over the three years we’ve been together and one of the things she has excelled at the most is diverting all attention to herself. It’s in her nature. There are still days I wish I could tap into her excess of self-esteem and steal some for myself. But most days, I do okay.

  Not today, though. My fear of having to articulate certain thoughts in front of a group of people is debilitatin
g, because I don’t have a good track record of doing it, which is why I avoid it as much as I can. But love makes you do things you otherwise wouldn’t.

  “Is this a code orange?” Zoe whispers in my ear.

  “It’s a code red,” I say, perhaps exaggerating a little.

  “No, babe. I can’t accept that. It can’t be a code red. That’s reserved for having to go to the E.R. or for when something happens to a family member. This is just book club. By definition, it can’t be more than orange.”

  “How about pink, then?” I smile at her, because I can’t keep on lying here, stiffly, my body taut with this cramp.

  Zoe smiles back. “Pink, I can work with,” she says, and runs her hand over my belly in a way I can’t really misinterpret, because it’s going straight for the prize. The time when Zoe was subtle about any of this has long passed. Her hand rests between my legs and my first instinct is to wriggle myself away from it.

  “That’s not what I meant,” I say, despite the frisson of desire that runs down my spine. Because this is Zoe. My Zoe. A woman so gorgeous and kind and warm—a woman who is very hard to say any kind of no to.

  “Maybe not,” Zoe whispers in my ear. “But maybe it’s what you need. Some relaxation because you’re so tense. Let me take away your nerves, babe. You know I won’t disappoint you.”

  I suck my bottom lip between my teeth, then let it slip back out. “I’m too nervous for any of that right now.”

  The grip of her hand intensifies. “That’s just the point. You’re in your head. Let me take you out of there.” She kisses the side of my face, then breathes heavily into my ear. “You let me into your life,” she whispers. “Into your bed and into your heart for a reason, babe.” Her hand meanders back up and stops near my breast.

  “Not with Shadow on the bed,” I say, already giving in.

  Zoe chuckles. “I’ll go down and feed the dogs first. You, don’t move an inch. I’ll be right back. Okay?”