Talk to the Paw

by Melinda Metz

  Yeah, that had to be it. She returned to the kitchen. “Mac, food,” she called. With a “mmmrow,” he trotted in and began twining himself around her ankles. No matter what, she could always count on Mac. Jamie opened a can of a salmon/chicken mix and served it up with a sardine on top. Mac loooved sardines.

  As he ate, Jamie realized she was just standing there, staring down at Mac, but not really seeing him. She’d completely zoned out. Coffee. She needed coffee. That’s what she did every morning, have coffee, and that’s what she’d do now. And probably by the time she’d had a cup, David would text or call or just come back over.

  But as she finished her second cup, she hadn’t heard from or seen him. Rattled, she decided to go over to Ruby’s. She needed the perspective of a sane person, and she wasn’t feeling entirely sane right now.

  “Be back, Mac,” she called as she left. A few minutes later she was knocking on Ruby’s door.

  Ruby grinned when she opened it and saw Jamie. “Yay! You’re here. I want to hear all about the date, or whatever it is you and David call it when you go somewhere together. I was right, wasn’t I? Adam and Lucy are great.”

  “They had to cancel,” Jamie said. “Lucy got sick.”

  “Nothing serious, I hope.” Ruby ushered Jamie inside.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “You sound like you need coffee,” Ruby said as they headed to the kitchen.

  “No thanks.”

  “No thanks? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you turn down coffee before.” Ruby studied Jamie as they sat down at the table. “What’s wrong?”

  “Probably nothing,” Jamie answered. “I slept with David last night.”

  Ruby jumped to her feet and flung her arms heavenward. “Hallelujah!”

  Jamie tried to smile. It must not have come out looking right, because Ruby sat down again and leaned toward her. “I guess my ‘hallelujah’ was premature. I just got carried away for a second. There’s something wrong, isn’t there?”

  “It’s just that David was gone when I woke up this morning,” Jamie said.

  “Did he leave a note or text you or anything?” Ruby’s eyes scanned Jamie’s face.

  “He left a note saying he had to check on Diogee. But I’ve been up for more than an hour, and who knows how long he’s been gone. Shouldn’t I have heard something else by now?”

  “Yesss,” Ruby said slowly. “Especially because it’s David we’re talking about. But he does have to get to work really early. Maybe he meant to say he had to check on Diogee before he headed to the bakery.”

  Jamie dropped her head in her hands. “I didn’t even think of that. That makes complete sense.” She lifted her head and gave a real smile. “He’s at work. He’ll probably call or text once he gets all the morning muffins and stuff made. He does them fresh every day.”

  “It does make sense. Now, get to the good stuff. How was it?” Ruby asked, waggling her eyebrows.

  “It was as good as I could possibly have imagined,” Jamie answered. “Times a hundred.”

  * * *

  David stared at the little screen on the phone. It was almost noon. He had to get in touch with Jamie. It was unacceptable not to. But he didn’t know what to say.

  Maybe the best thing to do was just say nothing. Nothing about last night. Maybe he could just shift them back into the friend zone without some big explanation. They’d only slept together once. And it wasn’t like either of them thought it was going to make them a couple. Friends with benefits, that was the deal. Did friends with benefits even sleep together regularly, or was it just once in a while? Maybe if they just didn’t sleep together for a while, the whole idea of benefits would fade away.

  Like he was ever going to forget last night. Until that attack of heart-exploding panic had hit him after Jamie had fallen asleep, it had been amazing. But he clearly wasn’t ready to be with anyone.

  David started a new text. Hey, Jam. Want to watch a movie suitable for 17 and under tonight? He definitely didn’t want her to think he was suggesting porn. He read the message over, decided it was the best he was going to do, and hit send.

  * * *

  Jamie held out her cell to Ruby so she could read David’s message. Ruby raised her eyebrows and gave a “hmmm.”

  “I’ve never had a friend with benefits. Is that normal?” Jamie asked.

  “It’s definitely friendly,” Ruby answered. “I’d have thought he’d have said it was a great night or something, but he’s asking to hang out. It seems like everything’s good.”

  “I guess. I mean, it’s a text. How much can I expect from a text?” Jamie sent back a sure with a smiley face, just a plain one, not one with hearts for eyes or anything. She told herself she’d feel better when she saw David face-to-face.

  But she didn’t. Because even though David’s face looked like David’s face, David didn’t feel like David, not completely. Almost, but not really. He smiled at her, handed her his latest cupcake creation, then kissed her on the cheek. Which upped the feeling that something was off. They were past the cheek kiss after last night. Way past.

  He leaned down to scratch Mac on the head. Mac did that weird thing where he opened his mouth and flicked out his tongue, then he gave the meow that was usually reserved for the Fourth of July. Mac hated the boom of fireworks. Jamie reached down to stroke him, but he slipped away from her hand and disappeared into her bedroom.

  “What’s with him?” David asked.

  Jamie shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’m not always able to read him.” Or you, she silently added. She headed to the kitchen to put the cupcake in the fridge, and David followed her.

  “What’ve you been up to today?” he asked as he sat down at the table.

  Back when they were just friends—just great friends—Jamie might have answered truthfully. She might have admitted she spent the morning obsessing about why she hadn’t heard from him, and then spent the time after she heard from him analyzing his message and trying to figure out why it felt a little less friendly than the messages he’d sent when they were friends without benefits. She might have admitted that the whole friends-with-benefits deal was a little more complicated than she thought it would be. She might have confessed that she did have different expectations from him now that they’d slept together than when they were friends period. Or maybe they weren’t different expectations. Maybe she just expected them to feel as close as they had pre-sex than they did now. Maybe she’d have told him that she was completely confused and off-balance.

  Instead, she just said, “I fooled around a little with some of the pics.” Which was a lie. She’d pulled the picture of the puppeteers up on the screen, stared at it for about one full minute, then walked away, unable to concentrate.

  Jamie opened the fridge and set the cupcake on the top shelf. “You’re not going to try it now?” David asked.

  That’s right. Usually Jamie took a bite of whatever he brought her to sample as soon as he handed it to her. But her stomach was clenched. It didn’t feel like it would accept any food. “Big lunch,” she told him. Had she even eaten lunch? She couldn’t remember.

  “Are you okay?” David asked.

  “Yes. Why?”

  David shrugged.

  “Are you okay?” Jamie asked.

  “Sure. Great,” David said.

  Not true. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Jamie told herself to stop being crazy. David was still David, and maybe he was having some trouble figuring out exactly what friends with benefits meant, too.

  “So, you said you were up for a movie? Anything in particular?” Jamie struggled to keep her tone light and casual.

  “Not really. Anything you especially want to watch?” David asked.

  “Pretty much anything is good for me,” Jamie said.

  “Me, too,” he answered.

  “You want to go out? Or just stream something?” Jamie asked.

  “Either’s good for me,” he said.

  They were both being
ridiculously polite and accommodating. This was getting worse and worse.

  “I still haven’t seen anything at the Cinerama Dome. Let’s just walk over there and see what’s on. If it’s nothing we want to see, we can just go to something else at the ArcLight,” Jamie suggested. Maybe the walk would help them loosen up.

  “Sure,” he answered. Jamie hid a cat treat behind one of the sofa cushions for Mac to find, then they headed out.

  “Pssst!” Jamie looked toward the sound and saw Marie on her porch, signaling them over. “Helen and her sister are talking!” she whispered when they reached her, jerking her head toward the fountain. The sisters were sitting on the edge, heads close together.

  “It’s the craziest thing,” Marie continued. “They each had these dolls from when they were little girls and their parents took them to Greece. That was before the divorce. Helen’s doll showed up on Nessie’s doorstep this morning. Nessie came over to put it on the fountain with the other things, and Helen went out there to accuse her of stealing her doll. They went from yelling to talking, and now they’ve been out there for hours. I’ve known them both for more than forty years, and I was starting to think they’d die before they ever spoke again.”

  Marie’s eyes were shiny with tears. Jamie reached out and gave her arm a squeeze. “That’s wonderful.”

  “Isn’t it?” Marie asked. “I think I’ll make them a little something to snack on.” She hurried inside.

  “Do you think I should tell everyone what Mac’s doing?” Jamie asked. “It’s been going on for so long.”

  “You don’t even know for sure Mac’s still taking things. Maybe he really can’t get out of the house. Maybe someone else thought the whole thing was funny and decided to keep it going. Strange, but possible.”

  “Strange. Yeah,” Jamie said.

  They fell into silence. It was a silence that made Jamie feel itchy and edgy, not one of those comfortable silences where you’re so in synch you don’t have to talk, the kind of silences she and David used to have.

  She tried to push the thought away. Silence was silence. She was probably just letting her imagination run away with her. But last night she’d felt closer to him than she ever had, and now she felt further away than ever. Feeling something didn’t make it true. She knew that. But she also knew sometimes you had to trust your gut.

  “It looks like that new action flick with Chris Pratt is playing at the Cinerama Dome. That should be fun,” Jamie said, squinting to see the marquee in the distance.

  “Yeah. I’m up for that,” David answered.

  Jamie was relieved when it turned out the movie was starting a few minutes after they arrived. She could use a few hours of sitting in the dark with no need to talk and something on the screen that she hoped would pull her away from the craziness jittering around in her brain.

  “They have great caramel popcorn here,” David told her. “I’ll get us some.” He also got her a Diet Dr Pepper without having to ask what she wanted. See? she told herself. Still considerate David.

  But when they were settled into their seats and they both dipped their hands into the popcorn at the same time, David jerked his hand back. The motion seemed involuntary. An instinctive reaction to touching something dangerous or disgusting.

  He was repulsed by her.

  * * *

  Finally, they were crossing the courtyard of Storybook Court. The movie had felt endless to David, even though he usually enjoyed a good mindless action flick. But sitting next to Jamie for those two hours had been brutal. He’d been so aware of her physically, the warmth of her body when her arm brushed his, the scent of her shampoo, everything. If his body had been in charge, he would have taken her home to bed before the last trailer ended. But he couldn’t go through the heart-busting anxiety he knew would follow. Or the rush of devastating grief, that grief that felt fresh and raw, that followed it.

  “Wow. Helen and her sister are still at it,” Jamie said. Through Helen’s front window, David could see the sisters sitting on the sofa.

  “A happy ending,” David answered. He followed Jamie up her front walk to her door. She unlocked it and stepped inside, clearly expecting him to follow. “I can’t come in. I’m sure Diogee is dying to get out.”

  “But you have the dog door. He can get out whenever he wants,” Jamie said.

  “Yeah, but he has a little separation anxiety,” David told her.

  Jamie raised her eyebrows. “You’ve been gone, what, not even four hours.”

  Why couldn’t she just accept that he didn’t want to come in? “Yeah, but you know I have to get up crazy-early for work,” David answered. “I’ll be in touch,” he said as he started to walk away.

  With every step he took toward home, he felt a little tension drain out of him. When he got there, he’d have a game of tug-of-war with Diogee, read a few pages of Infinite Jest and a few dozen of its footnotes, then watch TV until he fell asleep. That was all he wanted. His old routine. His old life.

  The sound of footsteps coming up fast behind him made David look over his shoulder. It was Jamie. Rushing toward him. “Did you actually just say you’d ‘be in touch’?” she demanded. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were blazing.

  “Yeah, I said something like that,” David answered.

  “I guess I should be expecting a Christmas card from you? Is that the translation?” Jamie asked.

  “Jamie, we’ve seen each other every few days since that night we met in the bar,” David answered. “And we just finished seeing each other about three minutes ago—because I asked if you wanted to see a movie. What are you so pissed off about?”

  She shook her head. “Don’t pretend you don’t know. Don’t pretend I’m being crazy. We had sex last night, and today you’re acting like I’m contagious and you’re telling me you’ll ‘be in touch’.”

  “I told you I wasn’t ready to get into a relationship, and you told me the same thing,” David shot back, even though he knew exactly what she meant. All he wanted was to get home. “We said we were going to be friends who had sex sometimes. That’s what happened last night. And tonight we went out—like friends.”

  Jamie stared at him for what felt like a full minute, but could only have been a few seconds, then she turned away. “See ya! Don’t be a stranger!” she called, and he could hear the anger and pain in her voice.

  He knew he should call her back, try to explain. But he knew he wasn’t going to be able to hang out with her as friends. Tonight proved that. So why not just let it end right there?

  * * *

  Mac watched as Jamie lay on her bed. She was crying, and he didn’t know how to help. Finally, he walked over to her and lay by her side, as close as he could get. She continued to sob.

  The scent coming off her was worse than the loneliness he used to smell on her, the loneliness that had made him decide to make it his mission to find her a packmate. Something had gone wrong. He’d sensed that when David had come into the house earlier. But Jamie’s scent was much worse than it had been then. Her sadness pressed down on him, making it hard for his lungs to take in enough air.

  Mac had chosen David for his person, and Jamie had ended up crying. He had failed her.

  Mac stood and jumped to the floor, then crawled under the bed and curled into a tight ball. He should stay away from her. He should stay away from everyone.

  CHAPTER 19

  When Jamie woke up the next morning, she had about three blissful seconds before she remembered what had happened the night before. She pulled the blankets higher and squeezed her eyes shut. All she wanted was to go back to sleep, to escape the memory of David jerking his hand away from hers in the movie theater, and the cold way he’d explained that his behavior was exactly what the two of them had agreed on. But what they’d agreed on was friends with benefits, and last night David had acted like a stranger.

  She struggled to will herself back into oblivion, but her brain was pounding with questions: Why had David acted like that? What
was wrong with him? Was something wrong with her? Why had he acted like she disgusted him? Why had he even suggested going to the movies when he obviously wanted nothing to do with her? Why? Why? Why?

  She held out for a few minutes, then gave up. There was no way she could sleep with these thoughts ricocheting in her head. Her body felt heavy and cold, but she forced herself to climb out of bed. Maybe coffee would help. Coffee made everything at least a little better.

  Belatedly, Jamie realized the room was lighter than usual. She checked her alarm clock. It was after nine. Mac never let her sleep this late. He expected breakfast at seven thirty. He should have been meowing his head off by now. “Mac?” she called. There was no answer. She did a search of the bungalow, but didn’t see her kitty anywhere. Had he gotten out again? She checked the screen enclosing the porch and the window screens. No new rips. Not that that proved anything.

  “Mac?” she called again. She started a more thorough search, opening cupboards, checking under the couch, looking in the corners of her closet. She finally found him curled up under the bed. “What’s up, Mac-Mac?” She stretched out her hand and managed to brush her fingers down his back. “You okay?” He didn’t react. He didn’t move or mew or purr. “What’s wrong, baby?” There had to be something. Mac never acted like this. He’d always loudly demanded breakfast and dinner if she was late serving it up, even by a few minutes. His internal clock was amazingly accurate.

  She hurried to the kitchen, got his water bowl and a bowl of food, then returned to the bedroom and set them next to the bed. Maybe the smell would tempt him. He didn’t react. Don’t panic, Jamie told herself. Mac’s breathing seemed normal. He hadn’t vomited. She would have noticed when she searched the house for him. She checked his litter box. Didn’t seem like he was having any problems like diarrhea. She decided to wait and see if he decided to eat in the next few hours. In the meantime, she’d hunt down the name of a good vet.