Around the Bend

by Shirley Jump

  Vinny heaved a sigh and rose, leaving a disappointed Harvey on the gold-and-red carpet. “I don’t want to speak ill of Dave. He was a good guy. A real man’s man.”

  “Meaning, he could juggle a few wives and still knock back a beer after he and Harvey ran through the dance program?”

  Vinny didn’t flinch at the anger in my tone. He just kept standing there, calm as a summer lake.

  “Sorry,” I said. “I’ve got a lot of issues with Dave right now and since he’s not here to beat up, I’m taking it out on you.”

  “Understandable.” Vinny gave me a short, quick nod. “I don’t know much about Annie, just what Dave told me. And I kinda assumed they got married after Dave talked about it.”

  “What did Dave tell you?”

  Vinny reached into his pocket for a dog treat and tossed it down to Harvey, watching the dog chew before he spoke again. “You sure you want to know?”

  No, I wasn’t sure. Regardless, I steeled myself for the worst and went back to pretending everything was just fine. “I have to. There’s an estate involved.”

  Vinny waved a hand in dismissal. “Leave that shit to the lawyers.”

  I couldn’t. I had to know, if only so that the next time I went home and curled up in the chair with that afghan, I wasn’t sitting there in total blindness. Moving on wasn’t an option, nor was thinking about myself, not until I’d cleared up the semi parked in front of my heart. “What do you know about her?” My voice cracked on the last word.

  Vinny shuffled from foot to foot, the alpha gone from his stance. Clearly, he was one of those men who could handle a Doberman but not a woman who sounded like she was about to cry. “Mrs. Reynolds—”

  “Penny, please. I already share that name with far too many people.”

  “Penny, then.” He patted the front pocket of his shirt, then let out a curse. “Gave up smokes a month ago, but there are days…” His voice trailed off.

  “What do you know about Annie?”

  Vinny gave up on searching for an invisible cigarette and let out a curse. “Dave met her last year, at the UKC show in Ohio last February.”

  “UKC?”

  “United Kennel Club. Harvey here is a mutt, so he can’t participate in regular AKC stuff. Annie had a pointer mix she’d entered in the competition, his first time doing it. To see what he’d do, you know? Smart dog, but hyper as all hell. Dave, though, could get that thing to calm down. Dave had a way with dogs. Not just Harvey, but all dogs.”

  “Dave was the alpha,” I said.

  “Yeah, but in a gentle way. Like that Robert Redford guy in that movie with the horse. He was…” Vinny shook his head, chuckled a little at the memory of Dave. “He was good with dogs, but too soft to be a good trainer. He was always cuddling the damned dog instead of getting him to work.”

  I looked down at Harvey, trying to imagine my husband holding him close, the brown-and-white body against his favorite blue button-down shirt.

  The image refused to appear. Instead, the only one I saw was Dave in the casket, the blue button-down shirt making its final appearance on his stocky frame.

  “Anyway, after the show, I guess Dave took Annie aside, showed her some of the ways he’d learned to work with Harvey.”

  “You weren’t there?”

  “Harvey ain’t my only client.”

  “Of course.” I waited, my breath caught in my throat, wanting to hear what he said next.

  And at the same time praying Vinny caught a sudden case of laryngitis.

  “It worked out real well. Within a few hours, Dave had that dog fetching ’bout anything you told him to. He wasn’t so good at the obstacle-course thing. Had this fear of the A-frame.”

  “And then? Where did it go from there? How did it go from dog tricks to a wedding ring?” My breath was lodged in my throat so tight, the anticipation of what I’d hear next knotting my stomach.

  Vinny looked heavenward, as if wishing for a bolt of lightning to save him from an uncomfortable situation. “Dave was between gigs with Harvey, so he went out to Annie’s place for a day or two, showing her how to work with Max.”

  I swallowed hard, the pieces clicking into place, the lies throwing off their robes like Playboy models.

  My husband had been gone for eight days last spring. Straightening out a corporate insurance mess at some Cincinnati beauty products company. Or at least, that’s what he’d told me.

  I thought of those daily calls home. How short and brief our conversations had been, marked by the distance that had grown between us during that year. A wall, put up when he’d raised the subject of a baby. Again.

  An idea I’d vetoed. Again.

  I closed my eyes, what-ifs careening around my brain, silver balls in a pinball game that was already at full tilt.

  “What else?” I asked, my voice nearly a whisper.

  Vinny grimaced the pained look of a man who’d rather be buying Kotex at the CVS. “There’s not much else.”

  “What else?” The words gritted past my teeth.

  Vinny drew in a breath, tossed another treat Harvey’s way, then shifted his weight to the other foot. “Annie was in a bad spot financially. Something happened, and I swear, Penny, I don’t know what, that made Dave rush on back there soon as he left her, telling me he was getting married. He even canceled a gig Harvey had in Denver.”

  Dave’s words echoed in my head. “There’s more to this than I thought, Pen,” he’d said. “A couple more days and I’ll be home.”

  “He never told me why he went back there or what all went on,” Vinny said. “All I know is that he had Matt cut her a check.”

  A brick sat on my chest, adding to the ton already there. Before this was over, I’d be able to build a damned school. “How much money?”

  Vinny shrugged. “Me and Dave, we didn’t talk dollars. Just Harvey.”

  I closed my eyes, digested what I’d just heard, but it sat heavy in my stomach, like my Aunt Elsie’s tuna casserole. “When was the last time you talked to Dave?”

  Vinny thought back. “October? November? I don’t remember. The fall’s pretty much a blur. I was, ah, getting treatment. For my little, ah, stage problem.”

  The information about Annie was still sinking in, slamming against my already bruised heart like strong surf waves. I wanted to go home. “Are you over that problem?” I asked with a hopeful smile. Matt could have been wrong. There might not be any reason for me to take Harvey through his plastic banana routine. Besides, all this talk of Annie had erased my temporary fog of confidence. “You know Harvey the best. Can’t you do this show?”

  “Are you kidding me?” Vinny’s face paled a couple shades. “If you knew what that Rin Tin Tin replacement did, you wouldn’t be asking me that question.” Vinny eyed me squarely. “Let’s just say he retrieved something that wasn’t a banana.”

  I shook my head, confused, and glanced at the pile of rubber toys on the floor. “Did he grab the bone instead?”

  “A bone…of sorts.” Vinny waved a hand over his belt area. His eyes squinted up in the agony only a man could experience. Sweat broke out on his brow.

  “Oh. Oh, my God.” I had to force myself not to look at Vinny’s button fly. “Why would he do that?”

  Vinny shook his head, the sweat multiplying. He swiped the back of his palm over his forehead. “Sometimes there are disadvantages to carrying dog food in your pocket.”

  I glanced down at my jeans and then at Harvey. Thank God I didn’t have a banana hidden behind my fly.

  “I can’t talk about it anymore.” Vinny threw up his hands, a red flush spreading from his temples to his throat, the beginning of hives raising on his skin. “I tried like hell in therapy but there are just some things a man shouldn’t have to endure. And that’s one of ’em.”

  “Well, Harvey would never do that.” I gave Vinny a hopeful, work-with-me smile.

  Vinny put up his hands, warding off the idea. “I can’t do it! The minute I get out there, with all those damn
ed lights and the clapping and the dogs…” He shuddered, the hives now becoming mini facial mountains. “Flashback city. I think I got some of that post-trauma stuff.”

  Harvey got to his feet, prancing excitedly around us, clearly trying to get the two humans back to playing fetch.

  “Post-traumatic stress syndrome? From Rin Tin Tin’s replacement?”

  He leaned forward, his eyes daring me to disagree. “You ever have a dog latch on to the wrong hot dog?”

  “Uh…no.”

  “Until you’ve walked in my jeans, lady, don’t try and get me up on that stage.”

  “But—”

  “You can do this,” Vinny said, grabbing my arm. “I’ve never been very good in front of people anyway. I only did it because Dave—”

  He cut off the sentence as fast as he began it.

  “Dave what?”

  Vinny cursed again and shuffled his feet some more. “If Dave went on Letterman, people would know about it.”

  “Yeah? So?”

  “People…like you.”

  “I see.” I turned away, ignoring the hot sting of tears. It had all been an elaborate scheme to keep the Wife without a Clue in the dark. “He went to an awful lot of work to keep his secret, didn’t he?”

  “He was a good man, Penny. Would have given a homeless man the shirt off his back.”

  “Or a needy woman the ring in his pocket.”

  Vinny swallowed, silent.

  “Bastard.” The word spewed from me in a fast flash of anger. Harvey dropped to the floor, head on his paws, cowering against Vinny.

  Oh, damn. Once again, I’d lashed out at the wrong person, or in this case, the wrong mammal. Because Dave, damn him, had gone and died. Harvey watched me, his eyes wary. Remorse filled me. I dug in my pocket, then bent down and reached out to the dog. He hesitated a moment, then took the kibble. “Sorry, Harvey.”

  That was enough for the dog. He got to his feet again, rising onto his hind legs and doing a little doggie pirouette. I rewarded him, then let out a breath. This dog was made for performing. Lived for it, even.

  Right or wrong, Dave had had a plan for this dog. And just because my husband had been a jerk in gentleman’s clothing didn’t mean I had to cut off the dog from what he loved, too.

  Despite the circumstances, I had had fun. In the short time in the ballroom, I’d found something I hadn’t had in a long time. A side of myself I thought disappeared years ago.

  Maybe I could do this. Change the course of my life, not go off in a whole other direction, but maybe dip down a side road or two, and by doing that, eliminate what had led to this mess. “What does it mean if Harvey wins this show?”

  “He does Dave proud.” Vinny bent down again, stroking Harvey’s head. The tension in the dog’s shoulders eased. “Dave might have done a lot of things wrong, but he loved this dog.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “It’s too bad he didn’t love me, too.”

  fourteen

  I had thought that working with Vinny and Harvey would make me even more confident but, once away from the ballroom, I began to feel the complete opposite. By the time we finished learning the new routine, I felt about as sure of myself as I had in middle school, about to reveal my lack of breasts in the girls’ locker room during gym.

  Vinny had told me to try to be natural and loose. “Harvey can feel your stress. You gotta let it go. Breathe, baby, breathe.”

  Hyperventilating probably wasn’t what he had in mind.

  I strode through the lobby, narrowly avoiding a Chihuahua-schnauzer brawl, Harvey happily trotting along at my heels, pausing every now and then to glance up at me. Several people greeted Harvey, many calling him over to say hello, but the little dog stayed resolutely by my side, his quartet of legs moving at double speed to keep up with my stride.

  I kind of liked having him with me. Harvey had become an odd comfort in this strange dog-show world.

  The Grand Resort Hotel was overrun with dogs, their owners and the continued craziness of the registration fray. Chatter ran at a high volume, coupled with excited squeals of long-lost friends meeting up and barks of dogs establishing territory. There were women dressed to match their dogs, men walking beside dogs that seemed nearly as tall as small trees, children darting in and out among the canine confusion.

  “How’d it go?”

  I stopped at the sound of Matt’s voice, his deep baritone carrying a note above the barks, growls and whines. And that was just the noise of the owners.

  Matt stood by the bank of lobby phones, the unstressed, casual opposite to me. He had changed into a soft blue sweater that set off his eyes and the dark brown of his hair. A powerful combination, if the stares of the women in the hotel lobby were any indication.

  “It was…a learning experience,” I said. One I hadn’t exactly mastered.

  Maybe I could, my mind whispered. After all, Georgia, Matt and Vinny all thought so. Three-to-one odds. Or maybe it was the opposite, considering I’d never gambled.

  If I could somehow tap into that part of me they saw—the part that could master a dancing, singing, ball-playing dog routine—then maybe Harvey could put on a good show.

  Either way, I refused to let a dog show get the better of me. Or worse, retreat into the same old Penny, who clearly had been lacking something.

  “Vinny’s quite the character, isn’t he?”

  “He gives Loony Tunes a whole new meaning.”

  Matt laughed. “If you promise not to run off, I’d like to offer you some dinner. We can get out of this craziness.” He gestured toward the hectic lobby zoo.

  “Susan—”

  “Is with Jerry again. He’s so smitten, he’s even taking her to the mall.”

  I laughed, the sound still foreign enough that I wondered for a second if it had come from me. Heck, the whole thing was foreign—me trotting out jokes, engaging in what might even be considered repartee. “Dinner sounds good.”

  In fact, it sounded more than good. I hadn’t had a full meal in days, my stomach too tied up by the stress to tolerate more than a couple of bites of anything. Appetite roared to life in my stomach, not just for food, but for something resembling normalcy, or at least a step toward the normalcy other people had.

  We fell into step together as we crossed the lobby. I glanced over at him. How long had it been since I’d gone out to dinner with a man? Months, at least. Dave had traveled so much that he never wanted to go out when he got home.

  Was he taking the other women out, and thus, had nothing left when he finally returned to me?

  I pushed those thoughts aside. It was dinner, with the dog’s agent. Matt wasn’t a boyfriend, or even a potential one. There was no reason to feel guilty, to second-guess a simple meal. Or to still feel as married as I’d felt last week, before I’d lost my husband.

  Because in reality, I’d lost him a long time ago.

  Instead of taking me to a restaurant, as I’d expected, Matt ordered a couple of sandwiches to go from Seaton’s Café inside the hotel, then led me outside and around the back of the building. Beside us, the Little Pigeon River ambled along, tucked into lush greenery and tall, budding trees. The water skipped over rocks, making its way, as water always does, around the stone impediments. We strolled along the path, eating our sandwiches, soaking up the end-of-the-day warmth.

  It was wonderful. I inhaled, breathing in the scents of nature, the freedom that seemed to carry along the air.

  Harvey trotted along at our feet, content to sniff his new surroundings and nab the occasional bit of sandwich meat tossed his way. He looped in and out of us, stretching his leash, clearly excited about being outdoors. A squirrel darted up a tree and Harvey lunged for the rodent, natural dog instincts kicking into high gear. I tugged gently on the leash. “No squirrels, Harv. Not tonight.”

  He’d already started after a twig, clearly not upset about the no-hunting policy.

  Matt and I paused by the stream, watching tiny fish weave their way around rocks. The wate
r was the color of weakened tea, its quiet movement nearly as soothing as a good cup of chamomile. Harvey barked at one of the fish but danced away from the water’s edge.

  Suddenly, I didn’t want to spoil the day, the easy mood between myself and Matt, with talk about Dave. “Tell me how Harvey came to be. Tell me everything.” Then a smile slipped across my lips. “Leave out the bad parts.”

  Had I just made a joke? The woman who had the deadpan abilities of a table? Matt’s little chuckle verified that I did, indeed, have a sense of humor.

  “You’re a woman of contradictions,” Matt said. “When I first met you, I never expected you to be funny.”

  “I’m not normally.”

  We’d finished our sandwiches and tossed the wrappings into a wastebasket along the path. “I find that hard to believe,” Matt said, his gaze sweeping over me with an intensity I hadn’t felt from a man in a long time.

  “Oh, get to know me better and you’ll see. I’m happier with an adding machine than a one-liner.”

  He laughed again. “See, like that.”

  “Tell me about Harvey,” I said again, suddenly uncomfortable with the attentions of another man. “If I’m going to pull off this Milk-Bone circus tomorrow, I need all the ammunition I can get. And if there’s some part of Harvey’s psyche—assuming a dog that weighs about the same as a big stack of hardcovers has one—that could help, then I should know about it.”

  Vinny’s words came back to me. If Harvey won, he’d make Dave proud. I shouldn’t care about making my bigamist husband proud.

  But I did. Because as much as I wanted to dump the blame for this entire mess squarely into Dave’s coffin, a tiny part of me whispered that it took two to tango, and two to crumple a marriage.

  Matt picked up a rock and skipped it across the water. It bounced twice, then sank. Harvey let out a yip of approval. “I met Dave seven years ago, at a convention.”

  “A dog convention?”

  “No, an insurance one.”

  “You sold insurance?”

  Matt chuckled. “Yeah, for about five minutes. I’m a lot better with canines than I am with death amortization tables.” He shook his head. “Sorry. I don’t normally stick my foot in my mouth this soon into a date.” He paled a bit. “Not that this is a date, just—”