Dingo's Recovery

by Genevieve Fortin

  They walked in silence for a few seconds before Amanda asked “Is that it?”

  “Not really. But that covers why I planned that dinner, yes.”

  Amanda sighed again, but this time with less frustration. She seemed more relaxed. She stopped walking and turned to Joyce, who met her gaze. “If you’d told me what you were planning, I would’ve told you I wasn’t interested in meeting anyone. None of this would’ve happened. You can’t plan my love life behind my back, do you realize that?”

  “I do, I so completely do. And I can’t apologize enough for what I did.”

  “Good. Because if we’re going to try to be friends again, there can’t be any secrets between us.”

  “I know. That’s why this conversation can’t end here. If you really do want us to see each other again, there’s something else we need to talk about, isn’t there?”

  “What do you mean?” Amanda looked to the ground, a blush coloring her face.

  Joyce wasn’t certain she wanted to continue, but she had to tell Amanda everything she knew or everything she thought she knew. If she didn’t completely clear the air now she was doomed to lose her for good. She couldn’t let that happen.

  “What I mean is that I think I might have misinterpreted what you said at the casino. When you ran away from my house the other night, Heather said the reason why you couldn’t be interested in her was because…” her voice trailed off. She couldn’t finish her thought. What if Heather was wrong? What would she look like if she hinted that Amanda might be interested in her and the young woman laughed at her?

  “Because of what?” Amanda prompted nervously.

  Joyce took a deep breath and closed her eyes to find the courage to continue. For the sake of truth, she had to risk humiliation. “Because you might be interested in me.” Her statement sounded more like a question. A weak, hopeful yet incredulous question. She opened her eyes cautiously, looking for an answer.

  Amanda’s blush darkened, but she remained speechless, her expression blank. Panicked, Joyce quickly added, “I know she’s probably wrong, right? I mean, why would you be interested in a woman my age?” She laughed nervously. “I wanted to put it out there, because if Heather’s right, then we may have more to talk about. And if she’s wrong, well, at least I didn’t hide anything from you and we can…”

  “She’s not wrong,” Amanda declared, interrupting Joyce’s rambling.

  “What?”

  “Heather’s not wrong, Joyce.”

  Amanda’s heart was pounding, her hands were sweaty, and her airways were constricting. She’d never been in this situation before. She’d never admitted her infatuation to Professor Jones back in veterinary school, and she certainly hadn’t intended to admit her feelings to Joyce this morning. Forced now to make a choice between confirming or denying those feelings, however, she had to go with the truth. She’d proclaimed they couldn’t have secrets from each other. Keeping the truth from Joyce now would be counterproductive. She didn’t know if the feelings she had before that dinner ended so badly were damaged for good. She didn’t know if she could trust Joyce again, but she knew she had to tell the truth.

  “I was interested in you. I think that’s why what happened at that dinner hurt so much. Being tricked into a blind date was one thing. But being tricked by the woman I thought could be the one for me was devastating.” Amanda smiled to keep from crying. Joyce seemed genuinely surprised and moved by her admission.

  “Oh, Amanda. If only I’d known…”

  “How could you not know? Especially after what I said at the casino. I thought I’d made myself perfectly clear.”

  “I know. But you have to understand. I never thought for one second you could have any interest in me beside friendship. You’re so young, so beautiful. It didn’t even cross my mind. I fought every moment I felt attracted to you, reminding myself it was not even within the realm of possibilities.”

  Amanda didn’t know how to reply, but she didn’t want the conversation to end. They were finally getting somewhere, throwing their truths in the air and seeing where they’d fall. It felt good. Scary, but good. She spotted a bench nearby. “Would you like to sit?”

  “Yes, please,” Joyce answered with a laugh. They walked to the bench and sat in silence for a minute.

  “So what do we do now?” Amanda asked.

  “I don’t know,” Joyce said. “It’s up to you, Amanda. Do you think you can trust me again?”

  “I’m not sure. But even if I do, where do we go from here? Do we go back to being friends? Do we start dating? I mean, do you think you could get past our age gap?”

  “I’m not sure, to be honest. But I know what I’d like to do.”

  “And what is that?”

  “I’d like to start over. I’d like for us to go out as if it was the first time, with open minds. You stay open to the possibility that I might be trustworthy,” she said with a wry smile. Amanda couldn’t help smiling back. “And I stay open to the possibility that this could be more than friendship,” she added with a more serious expression, biting at her lower lip.

  Amanda swallowed with difficulty. “That sounds fair.”

  “I’m glad you think so.” They stood and started walking back toward Amanda’s condominium complex. When they stopped in front of the door, Joyce thanked her for agreeing to meet with her and hugged her. Amanda tensed up at the embrace, but relaxed when Joyce tightened her hold and cradled her chin into Amanda’s neck. It was a new kind of hug, much more intimate, and a delightful way to begin the do-over Joyce had suggested.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  “Are you expecting me to be happy for you? I was there when she broke your heart, remember?”

  Doug stirred milk into his coffee with a spoon and dropped it in the sink. Amanda thought, not for the first time, that it wouldn’t take much more effort to place his spoon in the dishwasher the break room of the clinic was equipped with, but she didn’t mention it. She was used to filling the dishwasher with the dishes every other employee casually left in the sink. Beside, now was not the moment to discuss dishes. She’d told Doug that she couldn’t go to his house for dinner on Thursday night because she had plans with Joyce.

  “You don’t have to be happy for me, but I hope you can respect my decision. I found out there were misunderstandings and insecurities on both sides and Joyce is genuinely sorry for what she did.”

  “Of course she is,” Doug spewed. He took his coffee and left the break room, shaking his head. Amanda had never seen him this angry. Or perhaps it was disappointment more than anger. Either way he would have to come around because she wouldn’t go back on her decision to give Joyce a second chance. She believed Joyce understood tricking her into a blind date was wrong but more than anything she realized she would not have done it if she could have seen past her own insecurities. If she’d thought that Amanda might be attracted to her despite their age difference, she would have acted differently.

  Joyce’s apology had meant a lot. But it was the way she’d hinted that Amanda’s feelings could have been reciprocated if she’d been open to the possibility that convinced her to accept her proposition to start over. She’d admitted that she’d fought her attraction to Amanda every step of the way, but what Amanda hung on to was the fact that there was an attraction. She couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see what she might do now that she was aware her age didn’t matter, now that their intentions were clear. No more games. She would remain cautious, of course. But she had to try.

  * * *

  “Am I supposed to be happy for you? Because I can’t be. To be quite honest I worry about your sanity. You’re heading straight to a heartbreak, or ridicule, and I don’t know which is worse. Before, you had innocence on your side. You didn’t know Amanda was into you. Now you know where this is going, and you consciously choose to keep going. It’s like driving straight into a concrete wall. Pure madness, Joy, completely insane. Please tell me you see that.”

  Barbara took a large
gulp of wine. She was furious. Joyce had served her sister a glass of white wine on the patio, hoping the fresh air and the view would soften the impact of her announcement. Despite her efforts, Barbara had exploded as soon as Joyce had told her she’d convinced Amanda to see her again. She hadn’t even mentioned she was considering dating the younger woman.

  Joyce sighed before she spoke in a calm tone. “I wish I could tell you I don’t care if you’re happy for me, but it wouldn’t be true. As much as I’ve fought it recently, I see now that your opinion will always matter to me, Barb.”

  “At last!” Barbara shouted out. “You’re finally making sense. So tell me you’re going to cancel your plans with Amanda and forget about her.”

  “I’m not done. Your opinion will always matter to me, yes, but what has changed is that I will never let it matter more than my own opinion. I’m sad and sorry you can’t be happy for me, but I won’t let that stop me from seeing Amanda. Even if our relationship might eventually go beyond friendship. Even if you worry about what people will think about me or what they’ll think about you. It matters to me that you can’t support me. It hurts me, but it won’t stop me.”

  “You’ve lost your mind. You’ve been acting weird ever since Evelyn died, but now you’ve done it. You’ve completely lost your mind.”

  “No, Barb. On the contrary, I finally have a mind of my own.”

  “She could be your daughter, Joy! Do you not see how ridiculous this is?”

  “I know how old she is. Our age gap doesn’t matter to her. And to be honest, I’m not sure how much it matters to me yet. I’ll let you know when I find out. I’m sure of one thing though: you won’t decide for me.”

  “Oh my god, what do I have to do to get through to you?” Barbara stood up and faced Joyce, who remained calmly in her chaise lounge. “How can I make you see you’re acting like a fool?” she asked through clenched teeth as she waved her arms in front of her as if she were physically shaking Joyce.

  “Nothing,” Joyce answered composedly. “You might as well give up right now, because nothing you’ll say will make me change my mind. I’m going out with Amanda tomorrow.”

  “For god’s sake, wake up! You’re so fucking infuriating. I’m calling Heather right now,” she said as she took her phone out of her purse and started dialing. “Maybe if it comes from someone Amanda’s age, you’ll see the light.”

  “I’m not convinced Heather shares your opinion, but even if she did, she couldn’t make me change my mind either.”

  “Voice mail,” Barbara announced as if she hadn’t heard a word Joyce had said. “Heather, it’s your mom. Call me back, we have a crisis.” Joyce chuckled at Barbara’s dramatic message. “There’s nothing funny about this. I’m going home now because there’s obviously nothing I can say or do to reach you in that kooky bubble of yours, but this isn’t over. Trust me.”

  Joyce laughed again and watched as Barbara emptied her glass of wine and left without saying goodbye. Once she was left alone, she replayed Barbara’s warning in her mind. The truth was that she was terrified that Barbara was right, but she’d promised herself and Amanda she’d keep an open mind and she would keep that promise. She picked up Barbara’s empty glass and finished her own before she went back inside, followed by Dingo, who’d been hiding under her chaise lounge.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Amanda suggested the Lumber Lounge Restaurant because it was her favorite place to eat in Bangor. Although she loved being pushed outside of her comfort zone when she went out with Joyce, she figured this dinner would be awkward and nerve-wracking enough without choosing an environment that made her feel even more uncomfortable. The Lumber Lounge was a perfect mix of the comfy warmth of a ski chalet and the elegance of a fancy restaurant. Wood floors and furniture met industrial architectural elements such as steel shelving behind the white marble bar. Amanda had been relieved when Joyce had mentioned the restaurant was among her favorites as well.

  Amanda waited for Joyce in front of the restaurant. She was anxious but also excited about having dinner with her. She wasn’t sure what they could safely talk about without awakening recent wounds or insecurities. It was close to walking on eggshells, but she preferred that to the minefield they’d been navigating before their last talk. At least now they could see the eggshells as they moved forward.

  Amanda studied her reflection in the restaurant window, swiping some lint off her sweater. She’d decided to wear charcoal pants with a button-down shirt in the same color and a black cashmere sweater over it. It was much more formal than her usual look, but she liked it. She had to admit it gave her a little more confidence. She’d considered wearing her hair down but in the end she’d pulled it back in her familiar ponytail. She was even happier she’d chosen formal apparel when she saw Joyce walk toward her, wearing a fitted black dress with a black and white silk scarf. She was stunning. Amanda couldn’t help returning her smile as she approached and spontaneously hugged her.

  “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long.”

  “Just a few minutes, but I was early,” Amanda answered as she opened the door and held it for Joyce.

  The restaurant hostess showed them to their table and handed them menus, which gave them their first topic of conversation. They found out they were both fans of the chef’s crab cakes and crispy calamari and ordered both to share. Joyce also ordered a glass of wine, but Amanda preferred sparkling water. She couldn’t afford to have any of her faculties diminished by alcohol. She needed to remain alert.

  Once they closed their menus they became quiet. Silence, which had never been awkward between them before, was now filled with tangible pressure, fear, and expectations. She went in with a safe question, “So how’s Dingo?”

  “Oh, he’s doing great,” Joyce hurried to answer, obviously relieved to speak again. “I have to confess that he’s probably running more than you’d want him to, but I haven’t let him jump on or off furniture yet. And he’s still sleeping in his crate, despite a temporary relapse a few days ago when he spent one night in bed with me.”

  Amanda laughed, glad to see Joyce’s playful nature again. “Running is fine. After tomorrow’s appointment he won’t be wearing a bandage anymore, after all. He’s almost back to normal.”

  “That he is. Thanks to you,” Joyce said with an intense gaze that expressed all of her gratitude.

  “I’m glad I could help. I know how much he means to you.” Joyce kept staring at her as if she were trying to communicate her deepest thoughts through her gray eyes. She held the powerful gaze as long as she could but eventually had to lighten up the mood so she could breathe again. “You know what I’ve been wondering since that first day at the clinic?”

  “What is that?” Joyce prompted before she took a sip of wine.

  “Why did you name him Dingo?”

  Joyce laughed and Amanda was satisfied with the lighter tone she’d given their exchange. “That’s because of my obsession with Australia,” she answered.

  “Really? But you do know basenjis come from Africa, right?”

  “Yes, of course, I do know, but I don’t care. To me he looks like a tiny dingo so I called him Dingo. I am allowed, am I not?” Joyce closed her argument with an adorable pouting lip that made Amanda chuckle.

  “Of course, you’re allowed. It’s a good name for him.”

  “See, I knew you’d agree.”

  “So tell me more about that obsession with Australia.”

  Joyce told Amanda about her fascination with a novel called The Thorn Birds and how it had sparked her interest for the country where the story was set. She talked about her dream to travel to Australia and Amanda instantly wanted to be part of that trip. All she knew about the country was that it was where kangaroos lived, but as she listened to her talk about its cities, its outback, its history, she wanted to know so much more. Joyce’s passion was contagious.

  Their food arrived and they shared it with enthusiasm. They kept talking about Australia and othe
r places they’d like to see such as Ireland and Italy. They ordered a piece of chocolate cake to share with lattes and kept talking. Amanda was relieved; she’d never expected their conversation could flow so easily again. They hadn’t mentioned the dinner at Joyce’s house. They hadn’t touched deeper and more sensitive topics like her childhood and Joyce’s marriage to Evelyn. They were having the type of conversation Amanda imagined was appropriate for a first date. The realization gave her chills. That do-over Joyce had suggested might very well work after all, she mused.

  After dinner, Amanda refused Joyce’s offer to drive her home. She needed the short walk to reflect on the evening and revel in her complete satisfaction. She walked Joyce to her car and was both surprised and ecstatic when Joyce held her hand as they made their way through the parking lot. The touch was almost overwhelmingly pleasurable. She’d never held hands with a woman before, not like this, and she couldn’t believe how much sensation could channel through the skin of her palm and fingers.

  “I had a lovely time,” Joyce said when they got to her car. She turned to face Amanda without letting go of her hand.

  “So did I.”

  “Enough to do it again? Saturday?”

  “Enough to do that, yes,” Amanda answered absently, distracted by the caress of her fingers in the palm of her hand.

  “Great. I’ll see you at the clinic tomorrow,” Joyce announced before she dropped her hand to hug her.

  Amanda watched Joyce get behind the wheel and drive away. She placed her hands in her pockets and started walking home. She closed the hand Joyce had been holding into a fist, as if she could trap the feeling of Joyce’s fingers within it. Somehow it must have worked, because she still felt the touch of Joyce’s hand on hers when she got to Franklin Street.