by Sarah Morgan
Harriet thought about the doctor she’d seen in the emergency room and the way other people had deferred to him.
He’d known plenty.
Dr. E. Black.
She wondered what the E stood for. Edward? Elliot?
She grabbed a carton of eggs and some fresh cheese and closed the fridge door. “If your doctor thinks you need to move, then you need to move.”
Evan? Earl?
“Easier said than done. I’m afraid my legs might give out on me. If that happened, I’d drop on the sidewalk and everyone would just step over me.”
“So you need to walk with someone you know. Like me. It would give you a little confidence to have someone to grab if you needed to.”
“You’re here to walk my dog. Not me. You’re a dog walker, not a human walker.”
“I walk some humans. Exceptional humans, like you. We can take Harvey together.” Harriet broke three eggs into a bowl and whisked them together with fresh herbs she’d grown on her windowsill. “He’d love the attention. Can you imagine him out walking with two women? What a boost to his self-esteem.”
“His self-esteem doesn’t need a boost. He already thinks he’s king. What are you doing?”
“I’m making you a delicious omelet. I’m not taking you walking unless you have food in your tummy.” Harriet tipped the eggs into a skillet and turned up the heat. “I’m adding a little cheese and spinach. Good for your bones.”
“My bones are beyond help. I don’t think I can walk today, honey.”
“Just a short walk,” Harriet coaxed. “A few steps. One block.”
Glenys sighed. “You’re a bully.”
“I know.” Harriet punched the air with her fist and Glenys laughed.
“You shouldn’t be wasting your time with a decrepit old lady.”
“I love your company and I love to cook. Since Fliss moved out, I only have myself to cook for and it’s boring.” Harriet tipped a perfect omelet onto a plate and added a chunk of crusty bread. “Now sit down and eat.”
“I hate eating alone.”
“You’re not eating alone.” Harriet cut a slice of bread for herself and tried not to think what it would do to her thighs. It wasn’t as if anyone but her was going to see her thighs. Suppressing that depressing thought, she reached for the butter. “I’m eating too.”
“So did you take your ankle to the doctor?”
“I went to the ER. And wasted their time as it turned out, because it wasn’t broken.” She took a bite of bread and made a mental note to bake some chocolate chip cookies for her next visit. Everyone loved her chocolate chip cookies. The original recipe had been her grandmother’s but Harriet had made a few small adjustments over time. It was as close as she had ever come to rebellion.
No I will not use one spoonful of vanilla. I’m using two, so take that.
Pitiful.
Glenys poked at her eggs. “That’s not a waste of anyone’s time. What if it had been broken?”
“My life would have been made difficult.” She thought of the array of people in the waiting room. It had been horribly crowded and it wasn’t even snowy yet. “I’m guessing that department gets super busy in the winter so I’m going to watch where I tread.”
“Tell me more about the sexy doctor in the emergency room who looked at your ankle.”
“I never said he was sexy.”
“Doctors are always sexy. Doesn’t matter how they look, just being a doctor makes them sexy. Was he dark or blond?”
“Eat your eggs and I’ll tell you.” She waited while Glenys ate a forkful. “Dark. Black hair, blue eyes.”
“The best combination. My Charlie had blue eyes. It was the first thing I noticed about him.”
“It was the first thing I noticed too.” That and the fact that his eyes had been tired. Not tired from lack of sleep, more tired from life.
Maybe that was what working in the ER did for you. It had to take a toll. It would have drained her, dealing with so many people in trouble. Handling all that pain and anxiety.
“Maybe it’s a sign.” Glenys took another small mouthful of omelet. “The start of a perfect relationship. Maybe you’ll be together forever.”
Harriet laughed. “Unless I break the other ankle, I won’t be seeing him again. And maybe he was sexy, but he didn’t smile enough for me. He was a little intimidating if I’m honest.”
“That’s probably the way he handles the job. They deal with such a range of problems in the emergency room. I know because my Darren used to be an EMT and the stories he told would make your toes curl.”
Darren was Glenys’s oldest son. He lived in California and Glenys hadn’t seen him since the funeral.
Harriet often wondered how it was that families came to be so scattered. It felt wrong to her. She longed to belong to a big family who lived close enough to be in and out of each other’s lives all the time. Drop in for coffee? Yes, please. Find yourself cooking dinner for twelve? Harriet couldn’t think of anything better. This Christmas Fliss would be spending Christmas Day with Seth’s family in their home in upstate New York, her brother Daniel was traveling with Molly to see her father for the first time in ages and their mother was traveling the world. Harriet was the only one not traveling anywhere.
She’d be in Manhattan. On her own. Perusing the glittering store windows. On her own. Ice-skating. On her own. Eating Christmas dinner. On her own.
She watched as Glenys forced down another mouthful of omelet. “What are you doing for Christmas Day?”
“Staying in and waiting for Santa.”
Harriet grinned. “Do you want to come and wait for him in my apartment? I’m a good cook.”
“Well, I know that.” Glenys took another mouthful of omelet. “Are you inviting the handsome doctor?”
“No, I’m definitely not inviting the handsome doctor. Judging from the questions he asked me, he thought I was either a hooker or an addict.” And she didn’t blame him for that. It hadn’t been her best evening and her two hours spent in the waiting room of the emergency room hadn’t enhanced it.
“They get a lot of those in the emergency room too. I bet you were a breath of fresh air. Show me your ankle.”
“I can’t. It’s buried under four layers of wool because it’s cold out there.”
“But he was attractive?”
Harriet sighed. “Yes, he was attractive and yes part of me wonders why I can’t meet someone like him in real life.”
“The ER is about as real as it gets.”
“You know what I mean. In a situation that could actually end in a date. Not that it would work out because if it ever happened I’d be too shy to open my mouth. I can’t get past that first awkward meeting stage.”
“You say plenty to me.”
“But I’ve known you for years. I feel relaxed with you. Most men aren’t willing to stick around for that long while I get comfortable enough to actually engage in conversation.” She put her fork down. “I need to find a way to skip the ‘getting to know you’ part.”
“That’s why so many of the best marriages happen between friends. People who have known each other forever. Friends to lovers. It’s my favorite theme in books and movies.”
“It sounds like a great theory, but unfortunately I don’t have any male friends I’ve known for thirty years who might be willing to marry me.”
“Didn’t your brother have any friends?”
“They always hit on my sister. I was the quiet one.”
“Oh, honey, quiet can be good. Quiet doesn’t mean you don’t have important things to say. Just that you might take your time saying them.”
“Maybe. But most people don’t wait around long enough to hear it.”
“Are you trying to tell me you’ve never had boyfriends?”
“I’ve had a few. Couple of boys in college. Uneventful and definitely not exciting. Then I dated the accountant who moved into the apartment above ours.”
“And how was that?”
> “He seemed interested in every figure but mine,” Harriet said gloomily. “And since then—do you count the guy at Molly’s Salsa dancing class she tried to set me up with?”
“I don’t know. Do you think he counts?”
“We danced twice. I enjoyed it because dancing meant I didn’t have to talk to him. I did warn you that my dating history isn’t impressive.” She watched as Glenys ate the omelet, each mouthful slower than the last. She knew that since Charlie died Glenys had to force herself to eat. Force herself to get up in the morning. Force herself to get dressed. “Do you have a warm coat and gloves? I’m going to take Harvey out for a short walk, and you’re coming with me. No arguments.”
“You’re supposed to walk my dog, not care for me.”
“You’d be doing me a favor. It’s easy to talk to you, and I could use the company.”
“Harriet Knight, you’re such a sweet girl.”
Harriet winced. “I don’t want to be a sweet girl. I want to be a badass.”
Glenys laughed. “That word sounds plain wrong coming from your lips.”
“What do you mean? I said the F word last Saturday. When I landed in a heap and bust my ankle—I said it. Out loud, in public. They probably heard me in Washington Square.”
“Shocking, but it’s not enough.” Glenys gave a placid smile and put her fork down. “Now, if you’d grabbed that sexy doctor and planted one on him, that might have improved your badass credentials.”
“Fliss said the same thing. Are you two colluding? I’ll say what I said to her—he would have had me arrested for assault.” As it was, he’d seemed surprised at some of the things she’d said. As if he’d been expecting something different.
She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like to work in a department like that. In the short time she’d spent in the waiting room, she’d heard people yelling abuse and several of them had been drunk. It had made her feel more than a little uncomfortable. How must it feel to handle that day after day? That was one of the things she loved most about working with dogs. They were always so thrilled to see you. There was nothing better than a wagging tail to lift the spirits, nothing more motivational than an excited bark. Dr. E. Black didn’t have that when he went to work. She suspected there was a distinct shortage of wagging tails in his life.
She watched as Glenys finished the omelet, policing every mouthful. Then she got Harvey ready for his walk. She maneuvered him into his little red coat, attached his leash and helped Glenys find her coat and her gloves.
It was true that if she’d taken the dog on her own the walk would have been finished in half the time, but that wasn’t what life was about for Harriet.
Glenys needed to maintain her independence and no one else was going to help her.
They walked slowly down the street, admiring the decorations in the store windows.
“I love this time of year.” Harriet slid her arm through Glenys’s. “It’s so buzzy and exciting.”
Glenys was concentrating on where she put her feet. “At my age, it’s just another day.”
“What? No, you can’t think that way. I won’t let you. I hope you’ve written to Santa.”
“Does he deliver new hips or new husbands?”
“Maybe. If you don’t write, you’ll never know.”
“Maybe I should try online dating.”
“It didn’t work for me, but no reason why it shouldn’t work for you. Go for it, but don’t ask me for help with your profile. I’m too honest. You need to present yourself as a twenty-year-old pole dancer.”
Glenys tightened her grip on Harriet’s arm. “Next time, I’m writing your profile. No more nice girl Harriet. How are your adventures going? What was today’s challenge?”
She’d told Glenys about her determination to stretch herself.
“I called someone who is always rude to me.” She was careful not to mention any names. “Normally Fliss does it.”
“If she’s rude, why do you keep her as a client?”
“I never said she was a client.”
“Honey, life is too short to hang on to friends who are rude to you so it has to be a client.”
“She has two dogs and a huge network of wealthy friends. Fliss says we can’t afford to lose her.” Although if it had been left to Harriet she would have done exactly that months ago. Life was too short to have rude clients too.
“So you let her say bad things to you?”
“It’s not that she says bad things, exactly. It’s more that she’s one of those people who thinks no one can possibly understand how busy and appalling her life is. So she is infuriated when I talk slowly. But I’m afraid of speeding up in case I stammer.” Harriet paused as they passed a side street. “She makes me feel small. Not small as in slim and attractive. Small as in less. She makes me feel incompetent, even though I know I’m not. She reminds me of Mrs. Dancer, my fourth grade teacher.”
“I’m assuming that’s not a good thing.”
“I wasn’t the type to talk much in class, so she used to single me out. Harriet Knight—” she imitated Mrs. Dancer’s sarcasm “—I presume you do have a voice? We’d all love to hear it.”
“I don’t see why not talking all the time should be a disadvantage in life.”
But Harriet wasn’t listening. She was looking at the man huddled against the wall next to a Dumpster. She looked at his shoulders, hunched against the wind, and at the defeated look on his face. “Billy?” She checked that Glenys was steady on her feet, and hurried across to him. “I thought I recognized you. What are you doing here?” She crouched down and put her hand on his arm.
“Trying to stay warm.”
“It is a cold one. Tonight is going to be worse. Can you go to the shelter? Anywhere?” She dug her hand into her pocket and pulled out a couple of granola bars. “Can I get you a hot chocolate? Tea?” She talked to him for a while, fetched him tea from the food cart nearby.
When she finally returned to Glenys, her friend was frowning.
“Didn’t your mama teach you not to talk to strangers?”
“Billy isn’t a stranger. I see him every time I walk Harvey. He used to be a university professor, then he had an accident and became addicted to painkillers.” Was that why the doctor in the ER had made a point of telling her he wouldn’t write her a prescription? Presumably he knew how easy it was for pain management to turn to addiction. “He lost his job, couldn’t pay medical bills.”
“How do you know all that?”
“We started talking one day in the summer when I was walking Valentine, Molly’s Dalmatian.”
“So you can’t talk to a guy you’re dating, but you can talk to a stranger on the street?”
“He wasn’t exactly a stranger. I have been walking past him every night for eight months. We always said hello. He was so polite. Then we started saying more than hello. I got to know him a little. Do you know that sometimes, when it’s freezing cold, he rides the train all night, from the Bronx to Brooklyn? How sad is that.” It depressed her that people had to do that to stay warm in New York’s freezing winter. To stay alive. “Anyone can end up homeless.”
“You must have talked to him for a long time to know so much.”
“I did. He was lonely.” She paused. “And I guess I was a little lonely too. I was getting used to being in the apartment without Fliss.”
Glenys patted her on the arm. “You miss her. I understand. I miss my Charlie. It’s the little things, isn’t it? Charlie always used to make the coffee in the morning. Now I do it and I can never get it quite right. And he fixed anything that went wrong in the apartment. He was handy like that.”
Harriet realized she had to stop moaning.
Glenys had suffered a serious loss. She hadn’t lost Fliss. Her sister was still in her life.
“I do miss her, but it was always going to happen one day. The alternative would have been living together until we were ninety, sharing false teeth, and that wouldn’t have been great, either. S
ince Fliss moved out, I don’t have anyone to cook for.” She didn’t confess that some days she made huge batches of her chocolate chip cookies, or her granola bars, and distributed them to anyone who was interested. And she knew, with brutal honesty, that she was doing it as much for her as for them. She needed to feel needed, and since Fliss had moved out and Daniel had become involved with Molly, she rarely felt needed. She missed having someone to fuss over, to cook for and nurture. There were few people she felt able to admit that to, but Glenys was one of them. “I’m not ambitious in the way Fliss is. I mean, I love our business, but what I love about it is the lifestyle. The dogs. Being outdoors. Doing something I love. Fliss likes the success of it, the growth, the bottom line. We’re different like that.”
“You’re different in lots of ways. Fliss is always in a hurry. She never has time to chat the way you do.”
Harriet sprang to the defense of her sister. “Because she’s building the business. We have the Bark Rangers because of her.”
Glenys stopped walking and Harriet looked at her in alarm. “What’s wrong? Is your hip hurting?”
“No. Right now it’s my heart that’s hurting, and you’re the one hurting it. Your problem is that you don’t see your own qualities.” Glenys waggled her finger. “The Bark Rangers is as much about you as it is about your sister.”
Fliss had said the same thing.
“It was her idea. She’s the one who handles all the new business.”
“But why do you think people come to you for dog walking? Because of you.” Glenys patted her arm. “Because everyone in Manhattan with a brain and a dog knows that Harriet Knight is the person they want. Customer service. Individual attention. Caring. That’s what it’s about. That’s why the Bark Rangers is a success. You are to dog walking what Tiffany’s is to jewelers. You are diamond and white gold. The best.”
Harriet was touched and ridiculously flattered. “What do you know about Tiffany’s?”
“I was young once. I used to stand outside that store dreaming, like so many women before me. And then Charlie made my dreams come true. And he didn’t do it by walking into Tiffany’s and spending all his money. Love isn’t a diamond. You can’t buy what we had, and that’s what you want too. Love. Nothing wrong with that, honey. You show me the person who doesn’t want love in their life, and I’ll show you a liar.” Glenys started walking again, Harvey trotting by her side.