“Second floor,” Henry the clerk tells Shelby. He turns back to his co-worker. “Are you coming to Leah’s tonight?”
“Probably,” Shawna says. “I just hate going to Queens. It’s like going to Neverland when you’re the Red Queen.”
“Which one of us is the Queen?” the handsome clerk jokes.
He and Shawna both laugh. “Off with your head,” Shawna says. Shelby is motionless as she listens in. “Anything else?” Shawna asks coldly when she realizes Shelby’s still standing there. Really, the tattooed girl is a woman, likely in her early twenties, only a few years younger than Shelby, an employee of the Strand Book Store who’s got better things to do than talk to a stranger.
“You’d better show her,” Henry says. “She seems like she needs help.”
Shawna nods, and Shelby follows her to the elevator.
“Do you like working here?” Shelby asks.
“What are you, the CIA?”
Shelby shrugs. “I was just curious.”
“I love it. Not that it’s any of your business. I love books, so what’s not to like?”
“I didn’t know that about you,” Shelby says.
Shawna narrows her eyes. She still looks fierce with her tattoos swirled across her face. “Why would you know that?”
“I wouldn’t,” Shelby says. “I guess I mean from looking at you I wouldn’t have thought you were a reader.”
“Yeah, well, don’t judge a book by its cover,” Shawna says. “I’ve probably read more books than you have. That’s the great thing about working here, you find treasures you never heard of before.”
There’s a rumbling sound and a little yip coming from the tote bag. Shawna peers into the bag. “There’s the barker,” she says.
She clearly doesn’t recognize Blinkie. That’s good. Shelby’s heart is pounding. There’s no way on earth she would ever give Blinkie back.
“I’m too irresponsible to have a dog,” Shawna says. “I’m sticking with books. They never let you down and they don’t judge you.” The elevator door opens and Shawna nods. “Your floor.”
“See you,” Shelby says.
“I doubt it,” Shawna says.
They look at each other. They’re nothing alike.
“Right,” Shelby says.
As long as she’s up here, Shelby takes a look around. She finds Nevermore displayed on a wooden table along with the new releases. Shelby grabs a copy and sits between some stacks of books. Ben Mink used to do this at the Book Revue in Huntington, where he read for hours when he was young and broke. Shelby loves the cover of Nevermore. When she looks at it she imagines she is seeing a part of James’s soul.
There’s a kid reading a graphic novel across from her. He glances over. “That one’s great,” he says, nodding to Nevermore. “You’ve got good taste. You like monsters?”
“Sure,” Shelby says. “It takes one to know one.”
The kid laughs. “That’s why the best heroes used to be villains and vice versa.”
Shelby leaves the comfort of the Strand. She hopes she finds a bookstore that’s half as good in California. On the walk home, Blinkie’s breathing changes. Shelby sits on a bench and peers into the tote bag. Blinkie’s eyes are closed and he’s struggling for air. She says his name but he doesn’t respond. Shelby feels a wave of panic. She hasn’t allowed herself to see how bad off he is. She hails a cab and gets in. “Ninth Avenue and Thirty-Second Street,” she says. “Fast.”
She calls James as they speed uptown and lets him know where she is. She tells him Blinkie will be fine, but she doesn’t believe it. By the time she gets to the veterinary hospital, he’s barely moving. She goes to the desk even though other people are waiting with their pets. “I have to see Harper,” she says. “It’s an emergency.”
“He’s with a patient,” the girl at the desk remarks without looking up. She has long black hair. Maybe she’s the one who was with Harper the morning Shelby found out he was a cheater who cheated. Shelby doesn’t care about that betrayal anymore. She only cares about Blinkie.
“Tell him it’s Shelby,” she insists.
“He has another patient right after this one.”
Shelby turns and pushes through the doors. She races along the corridor leading to the examining rooms.
The girl from the desk chases after her. “You can’t do this!”
Leandro, the janitor, has come out to see what the ruckus is all about. He waves when he sees Shelby. “Are you okay?” he asks. “We never saw you again.”
“My dog is dying,” Shelby tells him.
Leandro nods and brings her into an examining room. “I’ll get the doctor,” he says. “Don’t worry.”
Shelby stands weeping over Blinkie in the tote bag. She doesn’t hear Harper come in until he is beside her. “I heard you were here,” he says. “There’s my man Blinkie.” Harper gently takes the dog out of the tote bag. “When did this start?” he asks.
“I don’t know. This morning I think. He couldn’t walk.”
“Has he been drinking? Peeing?”
Shelby is furious with herself. She, who is about to start veterinary school, has been in denial. She looks at Harper through her tears. “Renal failure,” she says.
Harper places a hand on her shoulder. His touch is familiar and comforting, despite what happened between them. One thing about Harper, he sucked when it came to people, but he loved dogs. That’s why Shelby is here. “He’s old, Shelby. Maybe fourteen. Maybe more. You don’t want him to suffer.”
They both know once this sort of failure begins, there is no cure, only horrible pain if the situation continues.
“I don’t want anyone to suffer.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be in here when I do it,” Harper suggests. “You’re upset.”
Shelby shakes her head. “I’m not leaving him.”
“I didn’t think you would,” Harper says. “You’re loyal.”
Shelby stands beside Harper and the two technicians he calls in—not the girl with the long black hair, fortunately. She pets Blinkie and cries. “Hey, baby,” she says. “You’re my baby.”
Blinkie’s one eye is closed, and he doesn’t move when he’s given a shot of morphine to settle him before the IV is inserted. Harper is calm and he speaks soothingly. “That’s right,” he says to Blinkie. “You’re a good boy.” It takes only a few moments for Blinkie to die. “That’s because he was ready,” Harper says. “He probably lived ten extra years because of you, Shelb.”
Harper hands her a paper towel, and Shelby blows her nose. Blinkie looks so tiny and empty.
“Why did you bring him here?” Harper says. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad that you did. I just wouldn’t have expected it.”
“Because you’re good at this,” Shelby says, “and I wanted the best.”
“Thank you. I wish I had been better at other things.”
“You’re not,” Shelby says.
“I’m sorry about what happened.” It sounds like he really is.
“Did she have a girl?”
“Elizabeth Jasmine Levy. We call her Jazz.”
Shelby smiles in spite of herself. “That makes me hate you less.”
Harper laughs. He hugs her, then lets go. She can pick up Blinkie’s ashes at the end of the week. Shelby leaves without paying. Harper can cover it.
She goes to a deli around the corner and texts James the address. When he arrives he sits down across from her, out of breath, wearing his black coat. Due to a traffic jam, he got out of the cab he was in and ran the last ten blocks.
“I should have been with you,” he says.
“It happened too fast.” She shakes her head. Her nose is completely red. She’s been sobbing with long, shuddering sighs, and the deli guys have been muttering to each other and eyeing her nervously, waiting for her t
o snap. Now they’re keeping an eye on James. When he notices them staring he snarls, “Is there a problem?”
One of the guys calls back, “It’s fine. There’s no problem.”
James orders two café con leches with covers. They’re not staying. “Blinkie wasn’t okay, Shelby.” The counter guy brings over their coffees, averting his eyes as James pays him. “He could barely stand,” James tells her. “I had to hold him on the stoop when I took him out last night to make sure he wouldn’t tilt over.”
“I didn’t even notice. How can I be a vet?”
“Baby,” James says. “He was old. You just didn’t want to see it.”
They hold hands. “Blinkie’s dead,” Shelby says.
“You saved him.”
“It was the reverse. Like us.”
“I assume I’m Blinkie in this equation.”
Shelby doesn’t care if the deli guys are watching. She goes to sit on James’s lap. Nobody says anything. Nobody disapproves or thinks they’re crazy or asks them to leave. They know love when they see it.
CHAPTER
14
Shelby’s most frequent visitors have been deliverymen from Hunan Kitchen, but that’s over now. The Hunan Kitchen has closed down. The owner sold out to a tapas restaurant, which doesn’t deliver, and is so packed on Friday nights the crowd spills out onto the street. The neighborhood is changing; it’s much more upscale, filled with art galleries and women in fashionable clothes and high heels. Shelby’s upstairs neighbor, the waiter she used to depend upon to walk her dogs in times of emergency, has moved to a cheaper apartment in Brooklyn and three NYU students have taken his place. There’s a lot more noise with the young women tenants, with music playing late into the night and their rowdy friends traipsing up and down the stairs. Shelby occasionally has pizza with them (Kyla, Jackie, and Erin, all from Scarsdale) out on their fire escape, which is more spacious than Shelby’s. Individually they tell her their secrets. Kyla wants to drop out and move to a sustainable farm, Jackie is in love with her cousin’s husband, and Erin thinks she’s fat and hasn’t looked in a mirror for over a year. She peers into a frying pan whenever she’s putting on makeup and needs to get a glimpse of her reflection. Needless to say, Erin is Shelby’s favorite of the three.
Because Shelby doesn’t expect visitors, especially at ten on a Saturday morning, when her buzzer sounds, she ignores it and goes back to sleep. James has a key, and whenever Shelby doesn’t answer he comes up and gets into bed with her. He’s currently at work, so Shelby figures whoever it is will go away. Yesterday she worked a double shift at the shelter, and she could easily sleep all day today. But the buzzer keeps on vibrating, and eventually she gets out of bed and pushes on the intercom, recently fixed by the landlord, who has made a suspicious series of improvements to the building, as if getting ready to sell. “Hello?” Shelby says.
“Shelby, is that you?” the voice asks.
It’s her father. She hasn’t seen him since the funeral. Whenever he’s called she’s made excuses and gotten off the line as quickly as possible, but there’s not much she can do now that he’s right downstairs. Shelby pushes on the buzzer that allows him into the building while quickly pulling on a pair of black pants and a T-shirt, then tosses the dirty dishes into the sink. The dogs start barking as soon as there’s a knock.
“Four flights up?” Dan Richmond says when Shelby opens the door. He’s winded, leaning on the banister. He’s carrying a box that looks fairly heavy. “I heard you were living like this. Your mother told me about it.”
“Yeah, it’s small,” Shelby says. As in tiny. As in she’s poor. Or hadn’t he noticed?
Shelby’s dad steps inside and places the box on Ida Mink’s dining room table, then plops himself on the couch next to Pablo. “I see you still have the dogs.”
He hasn’t noticed that Blinkie is gone. The only dog he knows is Buddy, Sue’s poodle, who is staring at him.
“Hey,” Shelby’s father says to Buddy. “I know you. Come over here.”
Buddy doesn’t move.
“He always hated me,” Shelby’s father says. “The feeling is mutual, buster,” he tells the poodle. “Do you have some water?” he asks Shelby.
Though she’s in shock to have him in her apartment, Shelby goes to get him a drink. She lets the water run for a minute, otherwise it’s a hazy brown color, then fills a tumbler. Shelby’s father drinks it in one gulp. Shelby perches on a dining room chair.
“Nice table,” her dad says.
“It was Ben’s great-aunt Ida’s.”
“Patti and I got married,” her dad tells her.
Shelby doesn’t move. She feels a little like Buddy. Wary as hell.
“Last weekend,” her dad adds.
“Well, I guess congratulations are in order.” Shelby gets up and fetches herself a glass of water, mostly so her father won’t see that the tremor in her hand has returned due to his visit. It only happens when she’s especially anxious. She thinks back to last weekend. She and James watched all four Alien movies in bed, stopping only to order takeout from the salad place on the corner since Hunan is no longer an option. They were probably in bed together watching Sigourney Weaver fight for her life while Shelby’s father was getting married.
“We’re moving to Florida, so we figured we might as well go all the way.” It’s an unfortunate turn of phrase, and Shelby’s dad must realize that from the look on her face. “You know what I mean. Make it legal. And the house is sold.”
“Is there anything else? Like Martians have invaded or I’m really adopted?”
“Shelby,” her dad says. He shakes his head, like he’s the put-upon party.
“No, seriously, what else are you going to spring on me?”
“You just can’t be happy for me,” Shelby’s dad says.
“Bingo,” Shelby says. “You’ve got that right. So she’s Mrs. Richmond now?”
“Shelby, it hasn’t been easy.”
“Especially for Mom,” Shelby reminds him. “She’s dead.”
Her dad ignores the dig. “I packed up some of your things. I added some of your mom’s belongings that I thought you would like. She had that teacup collection. You liked to play with it when you were little.”
“Does it look like I use teacups now?” Shelby lashes out. “You clearly don’t know the first thing about me.”
“I don’t know anything about you because you don’t tell me!”
“Did you ask?”
“You never want to talk to me.”
He’s got her there. Maybe it’s not all his fault. She hasn’t included him in anything since the accident. “I’m distracted. I got into vet school.”
Shelby’s dad’s face brightens. “Wow,” he says.
“Yeah. A really good one. In California.”
“We’re moving to Boca,” her father says. “We bought a condo.”
“I want to see the house before I leave,” Shelby says. “I want to say good-bye.” She feels about eight years old. “It was my house.”
“It was,” her dad says. He takes out an envelope and hands it to Shelby. She opens it, suspicious.
“This is too much,” Shelby says when she sees the check.
“You think I don’t love you,” her father says.
“Because you don’t.” Shelby lowers her head so he won’t see her tears.
“Shelby, I do. I loved your mother, too, I just wasn’t good at it.” Her father finds a tissue for her in his pocket. She blows her nose and hands it back to him and they both laugh. “I thought you might turn the money down,” he says.
“I’m not stupid,” she sniffs.
“You definitely are not,” her father agrees.
“Should I say thank you?”
“You should.” Her dad gets up to go. “But we both know you’re not going to.”
&n
bsp; All the same, Shelby hugs him good-bye. “Good luck in Boca,” she says.
“Your mom always wanted to go to California. She’d be happy for you.”
Shelby’s dad pats her head as if she were a little girl, a flower in a garden, and then before she has time to change her mind and say thank you, he’s gone.
A few weeks later Shelby’s father’s new wife sends a change of address card, along with a nice note. Come and visit Florida sometime! We have a beautiful guest room! It’s June, and Shelby figures it’s likely hot as hell in Boca. Thanks, Shelby writes back, but I’ll soon be headed to the other coast. It happens to be perfect weather in New York on the day of Jasmine’s graduation party. It’s a sunny Saturday and the roses are blooming. Even Long Island looks great. Mrs. Diaz and her friends from the hospital have made all the food. Jasmine has dozens of friends, and they all appear to be guests, as hungry as they are excited. The school upstate has allowed Teddy to come home for the weekend festivities; he’s excelling in his classes, plus he never got caught making his great escape. Anyway, that’s all behind him now. He’s starting to realize that he’s in charge of his own future. His somber expression makes him seem older than he is.
Shelby gets teary when Maravelle makes a toast to the best daughter in the world. It makes her miss her mother even more than usual. Shelby’s graduation present for Jasmine is the watch her mother gave her when she got her high school diploma. It never really suited Shelby, and once she’s in school, she’ll be handling blood and vital organs. A plastic watch will suit her just fine.
“Seriously?” Jasmine says when she unwraps the gift. “Isn’t this too nice for me?”
They are standing beside the grapevine, which has come back despite Maravelle’s continuing attempts to kill it. Jasmine is wearing a white gossamer dress. She’s barefoot, and her hair, once upswept, has fallen down her back.
“Nothing is too nice for you,” Shelby tells her.
Later, when Shelby and Maravelle are setting out plates for cake, they stop to watch the kids dancing. Jasmine is the Queen of Valley Stream, exactly what Shelby told her would happen when she ran away and had to be convinced the move would be a positive change.
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