Manning returned to the stable with a dish of water and set it next to Blue. I removed the thermometer from her rectum and checked the temperature. “We’re good,” I said, noticing movement in her stomach. “And her contractions are starting.”
“What now?” Manning asked.
I put the thermometer away, turned, and sat cross-legged to look at Manning. “Now, we wait. It could be quick, or it could be a few hours.”
He sat against the wall opposite me, resting his forearms on his knees. “It’s late.”
“Dogs usually give birth at night,” I said.
“I meant you were at work late. You have been a lot lately.” He scanned my face, probably reading me like a picture book. Most times, I appreciated his attentiveness, but lately, I wished he’d just stop looking at me. Stop trying to figure me out. There was no good way to tell him that even though I’d fought the heavens for a chance to give us everything we wanted, I wouldn’t be able to.
I picked at my cuticles. “It won’t be forever.”
“I know it won’t,” he said. “I guess I thought once you graduated, I’d see you more. But maybe that was naïve.”
I held my hands open. I didn’t know what Manning wanted me to say. We’d been over this before. “Every time we have this argument—”
“This isn’t an argument, no matter how hard you try to make it one.”
I ignored him. “Every time, I remind you that you’ve always encouraged me to go to school for what I loved. To follow my dreams.”
“And I remind you that I’m not upset you have to work. What I hate is that I don’t get to see you as much.” He pulled at the collar of his flannel. “I want to have dinner with you every night. That was our plan. You promised me you’d never let me work past seven, but you haven’t held yourself to that same rule.”
I wanted to blame him for Blue’s pregnancy and for my missing dinner because he’d encouraged me to do something I loved, but that was my anger talking. It wasn’t his fault I’d been dealt a bad hand. I’d once believed there wasn’t anything that could keep Manning from me—not anymore. Because he’d let things get in our way before. And I’d fought tooth and nail to make Manning understand he did deserve a love story that painted the night sky, that he was enough for me, and that he’d be an amazing parent. Now that he not only believed it, but had let himself want it, I was going to take it away? What would that do to him? To me? To us? Did I owe him the opportunity to walk away, or did he have it in him to take on yet another battle?
“I’ve only worked through dinner a few times since I started there,” I said.
“Nine times in six months.”
“I’m still the new kid.” I sighed. “I promise it won’t become a habit, but I have to prove myself.”
“I get it, Lake—I do.”
Of course he understood. He had plenty right to be upset that I didn’t always come home for dinner when I’d made it clear to him years ago that I wouldn’t accept him working a minute after I’d called him to the table. I wanted to be pissed at the universe and at my body for its defects—and at Manning for continually reminding me everything would work out the way it was supposed to.
He was always so goddamn understanding.
At times, it made me angry that he wasn’t angry with me. I wasn’t understanding.
Blue got up on all fours. Manning also sat forward. “Is she okay?”
She paced around the small space, coming over to sniff me and then Manning. I wasn’t sure she registered us beyond the fact that we were sitting there. “Her water broke,” I said. “She’s getting ready to have the first puppy.”
Blue went to her dish, lapped up almost all her water, and returned to her nest—then changed course and lolled into the whelping bed Manning had made.
He blew out a long sigh, as if he’d been holding his breath. Silence stretched as we waited. Even though I’d been through this before, and there really wasn’t much either of us could do, my heart began to pound. My girl was having puppies. By tomorrow morning, our family would have grown.
“I think I see something,” Manning said after a while.
I straightened up, craning my neck for a better view. “You do?”
“Come here.” He opened knees and gestured for me. “Come watch with me.”
I crawled across the hay and sat with my back against his chest. He held me from behind, squeezing me as the puppy crowned.
“Oh my God,” I said.
He hugged me to him, probably hearing the emotion in my voice. “Don’t you do this for a living?” he teased.
“Yes,” I said, “but never with my own baby girl. Thank you for making the bed.”
He kissed the back of my head, and we watched, rapt, as Blue gave birth to her first puppy.
“I didn’t expect to be proud,” Manning said.
Leave it to Manning to feel pride over the birth of a puppy. How would he react to bringing our own child into this world? Could words even describe it?
“I hope you realize I’m going to be in the room when you give birth,” he said.
My heart dropped into my stomach. He still held no doubts that time would come. Now, not only was I defective, but I was a liar, too. As long as I didn’t tell Manning about my visit to the doctor, I was keeping something important from him.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” I said.
“I just want you to be prepared,” he said, laughing. “They’d have to arrest me to keep me away from the delivery room.”
The more he spoke, the sicker I felt. If there even was a delivery, it might be years and tens of thousands of dollars away. The next step for us, my gyno had said, was in vitro fertilization. The thought of everything coming our way because my body was failing to do its job made it hard to breathe. I shifted to duck out from under him, but he held me where I was. “Where are you going?” he asked.
Anywhere but here. Anywhere I wasn’t staring disappointment in the face. “Blue needs more water.”
“But you might miss the next birth.”
“Luckily there’ll be more of them before the night is over,” I said.
“Sit with me a second.” He pressed the side of his face to mine, his familiar five o’clock shadow suddenly coarse and unpleasant. “Are we okay?” he asked quietly.
“You know the answer to that.”
“Yeah. We’re more than okay,” he said, “but you know it pisses me off when you’re pissed at me.”
I looked through the door at the stall across from us. When Manning had announced his plans to build a stable in our backyard, I’d giggled like a schoolgirl, teasing him about the time we’d gone horseback riding at camp. What were we going to do with it, though? Despite Manning’s help to overcome my fear of riding, I wasn’t exactly excited to get back on a horse, let alone own one. I doubted we could even afford a horse.
“I’m not pissed,” I said.
“Then that concerns me even more. If you’re not mad, what’s been going on with you lately?”
I slouched against him. I’d never be anything but happy with Manning. We’d fought against the odds and won. We’d gotten what we’d wanted, probably more than we deserved. Was it fair to ask for more? “Work stress,” I said. “Dealing with people’s pets is more emotionally taxing than I thought it would be.”
“I love that you care so much,” he said. “You can unload on me anytime, though. Maybe I can help.”
There he went being empathetic again. I shifted, the straw suddenly prickly through the seat of my jeans. “I just have to get used to it. Things’ll calm down.”
“Is that all it is?” he asked. “I can’t think of anything that would be easier to handle on your own when you could talk to me about it.”
I looked back at him as best I could. It was the perfect opening to explain why watching Blue give birth was hard for me, the reasons I’d been shutting him out lately, and the uncertain future ahead of us.
He just looked so proud. So hop
eful. These puppies and the onset of spring signified new life, birth, prosperity. I’d have to break his heart soon enough, but it didn’t need to be tonight. I angled my chin up, and he kissed me once on the lips. “I’m fine,” I told him. “And I love you.”
He smiled. “Lucky me.”
This time, Manning let me stand. I picked up Blue’s dish and walked back to the house wondering how many more times in my life I’d come up against a question nobody should ever have to ask.
Was love alone enough?
14
Eight weeks and five puppies later, Manning and I drove to Newport Beach. One puppy had curled into my lap up front while two more chased each other across the backseat of Manning’s truck, barking out the window at everything in sight.
“They’re probably anxious being separated from the others,” I said, pouting when Manning complained about the noise. He was already annoyed we’d had to stop twice to let them out. “We should’ve brought them all.”
“All?” he asked. “We’ve got enough excitement for a two-hour drive with Tweedledee and Tweedledum back there.”
“Stop calling them that.”
He laughed, sliding one hand down the steering wheel. “I’ll bet money your dad picks the female.”
I ruffled my fingers through the furry head in my lap. We’d agreed not to name the pups we were adopting out so we wouldn’t get attached, but I’d taken to calling her Lady since she was one of two females in the litter. “We could’ve at least brought Blue. She’s been grumpy, and I don’t blame her. She’s barely had a minute alone in weeks.”
“Sorry to break it to you, but that bitch isn’t leaving the house until she’s spayed.”
I gave Manning a reproachful look. Just because my anger with him had fizzled the moment I’d held Blue’s first puppy didn’t mean I’d forgotten anything. He was lucky I’d been too busy to stay mad at him. Not only had our sleep been compromised while potty-training five puppies at a time, but April had kicked off the most hectic quarter I’d seen since starting at the animal hospital. And, it was hard in general to be sad with a houseful of puppies. “Blue should be healed enough for the operation by now. We’re swamped at work, but—”
“I’ll bring her, even if I have to sit in the waiting room for hours,” he said with an exaggerated grimace. “You have my word.”
Lady looked up at me with icy blue eyes like her mom’s. “I don’t know, Manning. Maybe we should just . . .”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“We could keep them all,” I said with excitement, in hopes it’d rub off on him. “They’re a family.”
Manning barked a deep laugh that made Dee and Dum go still in the backseat. “You didn’t even want them in the first place.”
I covered Lady’s ears. “Shh,” I said. “Don’t let them hear you say that.”
“Christ.” Manning stretched an arm along the back of my seat, absentmindedly touching my hair. “And what’ll everyone think if we show up to a—what’d you call it?”
“A puppy party.” I smiled. I’d co-opted Sunday dinner and invited Manning’s and my closest friends to my parents’ house to adopt a dog. Fortunately, they all seemed into the idea, because I hadn’t really given them much choice.
“What happens when we show up to a puppy party with no puppies?” Manning asked.
“I don’t think I care.” I held up Lady to Manning’s profile. “Do you see this face?”
“All I’ve seen the past month are big ol’ puppy-dog eyes, and not just from the dogs.” He arched a scolding eyebrow at me. “How you talked me in to keeping two of them, along with Blue, I’ll never understand.”
“With names like Altair and Vega, how could they not be ours?” I picked white fur off the Pink Floyd concert tee Manning had bought me when we’d seen Roger Waters live a few years earlier. “They’re two-thirds of Summer Triangle.”
“You do realize they didn’t come out of the womb with those names . . .”
I huffed. “It was always in the plan to have lots of animals. You knew that.”
“Over a lifetime, yes. Not all at once.” He sighed. “I’m dreading explaining three dogs to your dad. He’s going to think I’m some kind of pushover.”
I didn’t want to break it to Manning that when it came to me, especially where puppy-dog eyes were involved, he was a pushover. “Oh, fine,” I said, picking up Lady for some kisses. “We’ll have to come visit every weekend then.”
Manning flipped on his turn signal, shaking his head. “First you get mad Blue’s pregnant, then you want to keep the entire litter. Now, you want to pay four visits a month to the family you didn’t speak to for over a decade.” He grunted but twirled a piece of my hair around his fingers. “Talk about a moody bitch.”
“Hey,” I said, smacking his chest as he laughed.
* * *
Manning and I had barely leashed the puppies when Gary opened my parents’ front door. The dogs ran circles around us, tangling their leashes as they sniffed out where to go to the bathroom.
“Are we late?” I asked, trying and failing to check my watch as Tweedledee pulled my arm taut. “I was going to walk you guys in since you don’t really know my parents that well.”
Lydia ducked under Gary’s arm. “It’s fine,” she said with a dismissive wave. “We talked to your parents at the wedding. I wanted to have first pick of the litter.”
“You can’t go wrong with any of them,” I said. “Although, they do have personalities.”
“Which one’s a beach dog?” Gary asked, coming down the walkway. “I need a surfing pal.”
“Surfing?” Lydia asked him. “As if I need more sand in the house. Which one’s not a beach dog?”
“Welcome to your future,” Manning said, passing Gary a plastic bag and pointing to Dee’s pile of poop. “Get scooping.”
My mom came to the door, waving us in. “What’re you doing out here?” she asked. “Everyone’s in the den.”
“The puppies are full of energy,” I said, hiking up my jeans. “They need to do a few laps around the block.”
Manning handed me Lady’s leash to help Gary. “It’s been a while since you’ve had kids in the house,” he said to my mom as he pulled another plastic bag from the back pocket of his jeans. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”
“We’ve never had a dog,” she answered, and with far less enthusiasm than I’d hoped for. “Except that one that died when Lake was seven.”
“Mom, please,” I hissed, picking up Lady while tugging the other puppies up the front steps and into the foyer. “They can understand you.”
Her eyes went wide. “They can?”
“Yes.” I set Lady down and hung my purse on a hook. “Dogs can read moods. They’re very sensitive. Death might depress them.”
“Bullshit,” Dad said, coming out of his study. “Don’t tell me you buy that, Cathy.”
“Well, Lake is a vet.”
“Exactly,” Dad said. “She should understand that these are animals with one purpose: survival. They do not have emotions. They’re not teddy bears.” He stooped to pick up Lady, the calmest of the three, and held her in front of his face. “I could say this one’s going to be nothing but a nuisance in this household, and she wouldn’t understand a thing I said.”
“She senses your energy, Dad—whether you’re scared, happy, distressed.”
He tsked. “I’m surprised to hear that from a science-minded woman. Next you’ll tell me you believe in Tarot cards or magic or psychics. Nonsense.”
I glanced out the front door at Manning. He and Gary walked their bagged dog shit down to the garbage cans at the curb. I rarely had to pick up after the pups; Manning always beat me to it. He was my domestic hero and sexier than ever. There had to be a word for that—my ability to find him irresistible, and to love him fiercely, while he handled poop. “Magic,” I said under my breath.
Dad snorted, examining Lady’s underbelly, her paws and snout. She let him
without protest, her eyes glued to his face. “This one’s a mutt.”
“Of course she is.” I turned back to him. “They all are. We got Blue from the pound and we think she’s a mix of Border Collie and Australian Shepherd.”
“Which one’s ours?”
“Why not her?” I asked. Manning had already determined they’d be a good fit, and it seemed he was right. “That’s the one you chose.”
“I just picked up the first one I saw.”
“Then she chose you.”
He frowned at her. “What’s her name?”
“I’ve been calling her Lady to keep things orderly,” I answered, “but you can choose something else if you want.”
“Well, well.” He cocked his head at her as she wagged her tail, and for a moment, I thought he might actually cuddle her. Instead, he set her down. “Go on,” he said, but she sat on her haunches, looking up at him. When he took a step, she got up. “What’s she want?”
“Either she’s trying to herd you into the kitchen for food, or she likes you.”
He turned on his heel. “You’re anthropomorphizing again.”
“And you’re doing a good thing, Dad,” I said, following him through the house. “You and Mom need some excitement around here.”
“Between you and your sister, I’ve had enough excitement for one lifetime. This is your mother’s project, not mine.” In the kitchen, Manning washed his hands at the sink. “How’s business up there in Big Bear?” Dad asked.
Manning’s shoulders rose. Lately, he seemed more and more stressed whenever work came up, but I’d convinced myself it was my imagination. He’d hired a couple extra hands before Thanksgiving and had even admitted it’d been a good decision. Higher productivity freed Manning to accept more orders.
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