Joint Custody

by Lauren Baratz-Logsted

  Oh, an infinity pool. Oh, meals I don’t have to make myself that just happen to be otherworldly delicious. I can’t wait to get out of this hellhole!

  Please. Spare me.

  “It’s so hard keeping the secret,” The Woman said.

  Immediately, alarm bells started pinging around my brain.

  Secret? What secret?

  “But we agreed, it’s only until the book comes out, right?” New Man said.

  “Right,” The Woman said. “Here’s to that accelerated pub date. The end of the year can’t come soon enough.”

  What secret???

  I caught New Man nervously eyeing me in the rearview mirror, and I bared my teeth in a silent growl. Even though he was seated behind the wheel, driving, I could’ve sworn his body managed to take a little jump of fright backward.

  Still . . .

  “My place this time?” New Man questioned, with what sounded something like bravery in his voice.

  “Your place this time,” The Woman firmly affirmed.

  WHAT SECRET???

  Chapter Thirty

  That evening . . .

  New Man’s building was gorgeous on the outside, taller than all the other buildings in the area, so I had to crane my neck all the way back to take in the full height of it.

  Inside, it was even more impressive.

  And the elevator? Don’t get me started.

  I grumpily lay on the elevator floor by her feet, grumpy because I was feeling out of sorts, out of sorts because I felt like I was out of the loop . . . on something.

  New Man put a special key into the panel, into a slot beside the letters PH.

  Ooh, he had a special key. Ooh, he was a fancy guy.

  How. Annoying.

  I stared at the numbers as we rose, and rose, until . . .

  “Here we are,” New Man announced with a determined brightness as the elevator doors opened directly onto his massive foyer and the living room beyond.

  I’d seen such places in movies before, but I’d never seen an apartment like this in person. The Woman’s family was wealthy, practically beyond a dog’s wildest dreams, but even their glamorous apartment in the city wasn’t like this.

  Whatever bad mood I’d been in earlier was forgotten as I took in the vast indoor space.

  It.

  Was.

  Beautiful.

  Before me was the living room with its gorgeous modern couches. Vaulted ceilings. Art Deco detailing on the walls. Lighting fixtures that were like architectural feats of magic cascaded down from the high ceiling. On the wall opposite, massive drapes concealed a window that, if the size of the drapes were any indication, spanned the entire massive wall.

  I’d never seen anything like this.

  If you asked me, no one had ever seen anything like it.

  OK, obviously New Man had seen it before. And the person who designed it. And the Realtor who’d sold it to him. But you get my drift.

  I stood frozen there in my Elizabeth Bennet moment, like I was seeing Pemberley for the first time.

  And as gorgeous and expensive looking and well chosen as everything was, I had to admit, it wasn’t sterile. Rather, there was a sense in the air of home, a sense of love.

  Photos of family members. Personalized mementos. Nope, not sterile.

  I was entranced.

  From somewhere else, I vaguely heard The Woman ask, “Do you want anything?”

  What more could I possibly need? I thought.

  But then, still only vaguely registering other people talking, I realized she must’ve been asking New Man when he replied, “Whatever you’re having.”

  I came to enough to register New Man easing past me, bags in his hands, and I trotted in the direction The Woman’s voice had called from.

  I found her in the kitchen, grabbing wineglasses directly from a particular cabinet, taking a wine opener from a specific drawer.

  She seemed so confident about it all, none of that awkward trial-and-error stuff New Man had engaged in as he’d negotiated his way around our far tinier kitchen that time he’d been there for Book Club.

  Well, of course she was confident. Of course she wasn’t awkward at all.

  She was The Woman.

  She was pure grace.

  And she was still pure grace as she poured wine into the two glasses as New Man entered the room, doing that awkward clap thing humans do sometimes when they’re hoping to get something going.

  “So,” New Man said. “Gatz.”

  I was ready for my Robert De Niro moment.

  You talkin’ to me?

  “Would you like a tour of the place?” New Man nervously offered.

  Wait. There was even more to see of this place?

  I started to eagerly wag my tail but then caught myself. No way was I going to give in to his charm offensive.

  Swiftly, I tucked my tongue back into my mouth, transforming my eagerness into a more appropriately gruff-and-tuff attitude, like:

  I mean, I guess that could be OK . . .

  But then, as I trotted along behind him, I let my tongue hang out as often as warranted, so long as he couldn’t see me back there.

  “This is the dining room,” New Man said, with a ta-da! gesture. “It’s really only for fancy occasions.”

  Some people in the city had entire separate rooms for eating? The Woman’s whole entire clan could’ve fit comfortably around that long table. And the hanging Tiffany lamps were to die for.

  “You’re welcome to eat here, of course,” New Man added, “anytime.”

  I felt required to scoff.

  This place was like something out of a Disney movie. Like: lame. Like: Where’s your singing candelabra?

  But as we exited the room, I passed one on the sideboard.

  Huh.

  From there, it was off to the master bedroom, where my jaw almost literally hit the floor.

  You could get lost in that bed! I’d lose so many toys in that thing, oh my gosh . . .

  “Sorry it’s a bit of a mess in here right now,” he said.

  What was he talking about? The place was spotless.

  Anyway . . .

  I reeled in my awe. I mean, I guessed that spaciousness would be appealing to some. But who needed lost toys? Gosh. Some people could be so inconsiderate.

  “And I have a new tennis ball for you!” New Man announced.

  Wait. Was this guy trying to . . . impress me? But who cares what he’s trying to do? I thought, my head darting upward, unable to resist.

  Lo and behold, New Man had produced a fresh tennis ball, which he was holding in his hand.

  Could there be anything more appealing than a brand-spanking-new Spalding? Its fluorescent yellow-green surface so pristine, just waiting for me to chase it around, the first to defile it?

  Sweet mother of god . . .

  New Man threw it across the room, and I wanted to run after it. Oh, how I wanted to run after it. But I had to restrain myself. Honestly, it physically hurt to do so.

  Don’t give in, don’t give in, don’t—

  “All righty then,” New Man said with confused resilience when I failed to retrieve the ball of perfect temptation. “Maybe later? Onward.”

  Onward was to his en suite bathroom. My life was feeling very en suite all of a sudden.

  Oh. Oh wow.

  You’d think a person or a dog might get tired of viewing stunning room after stunning room, but I hadn’t been there that long, and it hadn’t happened yet. Who knew what might be possible in this crazy world of ours? Maybe in my next life, I’d be the new Le Corbusier. Plus, there were so many great smells that I ached to explore.

  The counter was gold-plated while the floor was a mirror, for crying out loud. I became fascinated with that floor, pushing my snout up
against the surface, one-eyeing my own handsome reflection.

  “Isn’t that cool?” New Man said, appreciating my appreciation. “I think this room is a little flashy, but this is the way it was styled when I bought it.”

  Maybe, if I hadn’t been so caught up in admiring myself in the reflective surface, I would’ve taken note of the fact that, throughout the penthouse, one of the smells that I was smelling was that of The Woman, even though she hadn’t accompanied us into these rooms. And if I hadn’t been so caught up in admiring myself, I would’ve taken more serious note of some of the other things I was seeing in that room, things that would come back to haunt me later—a second toothbrush on the counter, a makeup bag on the ledge behind the toilet, a familiar shade of lipstick—but I didn’t. Well, if everyone looked like me, they’d be doing what I was doing too.

  But even I can only take a thing so far.

  Realizing that maybe I was making too much of a . . . display of myself, I pulled back, appalled at my own behavior. Then I squinted at the floor.

  Wow, streaky much? This place was awful, just awful. Disgusting!

  I was relieved to get out of there with my sanity intact, trailing behind New Man out of the bathroom and down the hall in a veritable daze. I figured I’d seen it all.

  “There’s a doggy bed set up over here for you too.” New Man indicated. “And a fully stocked toy basket over here.”

  Not that the words meant any more to me than the sounds they made at that point, verbal symbols without concrete association.

  “Oh, and one more thing,” New Man said.

  I could feel my eyebrows contort at this. How much more wonder could one dog take?

  If I were to give New Man credit for anything, it’d have to be that the guy sure did know how to build to something, and everything had all been building up to this.

  New Man reached up and pulled a cord near the front draperies or pushed a button or both or who knows. Who knows what magical act of prestidigitation he committed then? All I know is, the draperies came apart, separating and traveling silently and slowly along their tracks until the entire wall-sized window was revealed, my eyes going wider by the second.

  And there it was:

  The entire city.

  Lit-up buildings as far as the eye could see. It was stunning; it was whatever the word is for something that is beyond absolutely stunning.

  It was the most beautiful nonhuman sight I’d ever seen in my life.

  And it was all at my feet.

  I was speechless.

  But just because I was speechless, it didn’t mean that everyone else was. Vaguely, I became aware of voices in the kitchen.

  “Here,” The Woman said, offering something. Perhaps one of the glasses of wine I’d seen her pour before?

  “Thank you,” New Man said.

  But they were just words, background noise.

  Slowly, I made my way closer to the glass pane, staring out in awe. Involuntarily, I raised a paw, placing it gently against the glass.

  Romantic music began playing in the background. Something slow. Frank Sinatra. Well, what better choice? It was his city too, after all.

  I sensed movement, followed by shapes reflecting on the glass, but I was oblivious to it all, unable to wrench my gaze away from the view. The rest of the world had fallen away from me.

  Who knew that something so simple could be so beautiful?

  If I’d paid more attention to those reflections in the glass, I’d wonder later, what would I have seen? A man and a woman, foreheads resting against each other? Tender kisses? Two people very comfortable with each other, physically? Two people dancing?

  But I didn’t see. I wasn’t paying attention.

  Instead, I dropped to the floor, letting my chin rest there, relaxing into the view until it was as though I was one with it. My entire being was total bliss.

  And what might I have seen if I’d paid attention then?

  The dancers no longer dancing. Holding hands, walking away from the frame made by the window. Leaving the music to play on, until eventually the click of a door closing filled the space.

  I may not have seen, but I did hear, that decisive click finally breaking my trance.

  Quickly, I turned around to see . . . no people.

  I rose, then, trailing after that click, curious to find where The Woman has disappeared to. New Man? Not so much.

  Down the hallway leading toward the master bedroom with its impossibly spacious bed, the one where toys could easily get lost, I paused briefly to survey the photos on the walls.

  New Man as a kid with a younger girl, probably a sister. New Man with the same sister, all grown up. It seemed like they’d always been close, never the type to smash each other’s fingers in a door and then gloat about it. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. New Man and his mom, all the love in the world toward each other.

  I almost smiled at that.

  Sometimes, I missed my mom, even though I couldn’t really remember her anymore. I wondered where she was now, if she was even still alive. And if she was still alive, I wondered what she’d make of me and my life now.

  But then a noise came from the master bedroom, and the nearly formed smile died on my face.

  Curious, I trotted closer, stopping short of attempting to push into the room when I got there.

  The sounds coming from the room were similar to the ones I’d heard the first time The Man brought The Woman home and they’d shaken the mattress together, but these sounds, they weren’t awkward. They were comfortable. They were loving.

  My mind raced, a multitude of emotions overtaking me: shock, pain, panic, betrayal.

  I know what they’re doing in there! And I’ve heard what first times sound like, this is NOT what a first time sounds like!

  I gasped as the full realization of the enormity of it all sank in:

  THESE PEOPLE HAVE DONE THIS BEFORE!

  Chapter Thirty-One

  The next day . . .

  Many hours later, too many to count, the sun rose on a new day to find me still positioned just outside the master bedroom door, sitting sentry. I was awake but exhausted. Were I to go and check out my reflection in the mirrored floor of the bathroom, I’d no doubt see fur bags under my eyes. I hadn’t slept at all last night.

  So close was I to that door, The Woman practically tripped over me when she opened it to emerge. Her legs were bare, and over the top portion of her body she had on an oversize pale-blue button-down shirt, not what she’d had on the day before. It was not a garment I’d ever seen on her in my life.

  It smelled of him.

  “Gatz!” she cried. “What are you doing here, buddy?”

  She leaned down to scratch me behind my ears. The scratching helped a bit, but I just felt so glum.

  “You haven’t been out here all night, have you?”

  Obviously.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  I heard the sound of footsteps and looked up to see New Man standing over us.

  I glared at him.

  He stared back at me.

  “Do you know what’s the matter?” The Woman asked him.

  New Man shook his head, clearly preoccupied.

  “I have to grab something,” he said. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move.”

  Well, of course we were going to move. What did he think we were going to do, play Statues here for his amusement?

  New Man disappeared back into the bedroom.

  “Let’s get you some food, buddy,” The Woman said. “You must be starving.”

  In the hours I’d spent sitting sentry, I’d ignored all bodily functions, so great had been my worry. And over the course of that dark night of my soul, there were times I thought I might never feel hunger again. But at the mention of food, my stomach growled and it
occurred to me with a shrug: Huh. I could eat.

  I jumped up and trailed after her, excited at the prospect of food.

  Trotting into the kitchen, I saw her lean down to a bottom cabinet from which she removed two bowls—quite similar to my bowls at her apartment and at The Man’s place—and a can of food: it was my favorite brand. Before she closed the cabinet completely, I glimpsed stacks of cans of that very same food.

  Huh, again.

  I hadn’t seen evidence of any other dog here.

  Certainly, I hadn’t smelled one.

  Oh well, I figured, whoever he or she may be and wherever he or she may be, that dog sure has good taste.

  But as she went to the sink to fill the bowl with water, the puzzle pieces began fitting together in my head, and the solution they added up to did not fill me with happiness.

  You’ll think me an idiot for not figuring it out sooner, but you try spending a sleepless night during which your fool head is filled with all manner of free-floating anxiety, and see how logical you are.

  All those toys New Man had shown me yesterday, the new doggy bed, and all those cans of food . . .

  Were they always planning on bringing me here? But they never, they didn’t even ask me if any of this was OK, they didn’t ask me if I wanted . . .

  The Woman placed the two bowls in front of me, water and food.

  “Here you go, buddy,” she said.

  A short time ago, my stomach may have been grumbling, but now I couldn’t think of consuming anything. I couldn’t think of accepting any form of sustenance.

  My world was falling apart.

  Instinct took over then. I took my snout and, with all the force I had in me, overturned both bowls, sending water streaming and kibble pouring across the previously pristine floor.

  “Gatz!” The Woman cried, appalled at my behavior in a way I’d never heard her be before. “What is the matter with you today?”

  YOU’RE what’s the matter with me today! I barked. How could you even THINK about being with someone else in a way that’s not meaningless?!

  With a weary sigh, which was something else I wasn’t used to The Woman directing at me, she got out paper towels and other supplies and began cleaning up the mess I’d made. She was on all fours doing that, facing away from the doorway, when a voice behind us asked: