Love Saves the Day

The Prudence-tags on my red collar make a tinkling sound as I drop to the floor and sit on my haunches, looking up at Josh as he looks down at me. His upper lids droop a bit as his eyes narrow, and I wonder if he’s figured out the same thing I have—that Laura doesn’t want to come into this room to clean, but also doesn’t want to leave the door open for someone to see how this room is dustier than any other room in the apartment. “All right,” Josh says, “we’ll leave it open just enough for you to get in and out. Okay?” He reaches for the door handle and pulls the door almost-closed. I’m surprised when I have to push it open a bit wider with the sides of my belly as I pass through. Once I would have been able to fit easily into an opening this size. I realize suddenly how long it’s been since I last worried about not being fed on time, and started eating all my food as soon as it’s put in front of me.

“I’m off to get bagels and smoked fish,” Josh tells me. He smiles. “If you’re good, you can have some later.”

Josh’s footsteps thud quickly down the stairs, and The Monster stops shrieking long enough for him to tell Laura that he’s going out to get the bagels. She tells him not to forget to bring the shopping list they made last night.

I dart into the room and burrow into my sleeping place in the back of my closet—listening closely to be absolutely sure The Monster isn’t going to come in here to threaten me or the Sarah-boxes, but mostly thinking about fish.

Josh’s whole family comes over at noon to talk about money, and who’s sick and who’s well, and who’s still married to their husband or wife—although they say they’re here for a holiday. Josh gives his mother a big hug when she comes in and says, “Happy Mother’s Day.” Josh’s mother hugs Laura a bit longer than she hugged Josh, and rubs her hand up and down Laura’s back. “Happy Mother’s Day,” Laura murmurs, and Josh’s mother kisses her on the cheek before letting her go.

Laura came to Sarah’s and my apartment in Lower East Side a year ago for this same holiday. She also brought over bagels and fish, along with a bunch of red carnations that Sarah put in a little yellow vase in the middle of our kitchen table. The two of them sort of hugged (whenever they hugged, it was always as if they’d forgotten how), although Laura was less stiff than she normally was when she came to visit us. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled. She laughed when Sarah tossed the twisty-tie from the bag of bagels in my direction and I leapt to catch it with my front paws in midair. She even smiled patiently while Sarah chattered at her about the weather, and a funny thing somebody at her work had said, and whether Laura had seen any interesting movies lately.

After they finished getting plates and food on the table, I jumped right into the middle so Sarah could arrange some fish on a little Prudence-plate for me. Laura wrinkled up her nose and said, “Ugh, Mom, do you always let Prudence eat on the table?”

Sarah’s shoulders straightened the way they do whenever she thinks Laura is criticizing the way she does things. But she just said, “Prudence and I understand each other.” She stroked the back of my neck a few times before putting one hand underneath my body so she could lift me gently to the floor, setting my special plate of fish down next to me. The two of them watched me. Then Sarah picked up a fork and started putting fish onto her bagel. She glanced at Laura. “Sometimes I think I’m crazy to love her as much as I do.”

“Love is love,” Laura said. Even though there was food in front of her, she hadn’t touched it. “Who’s to say what’s crazy?” The corners of her mouth turned up in just the hint of a smile, and her cheeks got pinker. She seemed shy and pleased with herself, like she had the kind of secret it makes you happy just to think about. Suddenly Sarah was looking at her more closely—then she smiled, and her eyes sparkled, too.

Laura isn’t pink-cheeked and sparkly today. Everybody keeps looking at her out of the corners of their eyes, trying to seem as if they aren’t, and Laura notices everybody doing this but pretends she doesn’t. Are they all looking at her because she’s the only human whose mother isn’t here for Mother’s Day? But Josh’s parents’ mothers aren’t here, either, and nobody’s watching them, so that can’t be right. Still, Josh is being nicer to Laura than he’s been these past few weeks, sitting on the arm of the couch next to her and putting an arm around her shoulders. She doesn’t move away, but she also doesn’t touch his leg or look up into his face like she used to.