“I would, but she locked herself in the bathroom. Let me put the boys on.” Shelby grabs the twins and puts one hand over the phone receiver. “Don’t mention Jasmine,” she warns them. “Got it?”
The boys nod, and Shelby puts Teddy on the phone. He’ll be the better coconspirator. “You have no idea where your sister is?” she asks Dorian. After this morning he’s her buddy.
“She might be at the park on the corner with Jessie and Maria. We saw her there and she said not to tell you.”
“Oh, great.” Shelby rushes to the door. “Stay here, and don’t you or Teddy go anywhere.”
She locks the door and races to the park. She spies a bunch of kids hanging out near the basketball hoops. There’s Miss I’ll Do Whatever I Want. Shelby could strangle Jasmine.
“Hey,” Shelby shouts. Jasmine glances up and instantly looks mortified. The last thing she wants is some bald lady confronting her friends. “Get over here!” Shelby tells her.
Jasmine says something to her friends and ambles resentfully toward Shelby.
“Hurry! Your mother’s on the phone.”
When she hears that, Jasmine runs home even faster than Shelby does. Before they go into the house, Shelby grabs her arm. “I told your mother you were locked in the bathroom. Stick with that story.”
Fortunately Dorian is still on the phone when they get into the house. Jasmine grabs the receiver out of his hand.
“Hi, Mami,” she says. “Everything’s okay. I just hate Shelby.”
Shelby retreats to the backyard, where the boys have gone to throw a tennis ball for the General. Blinkie whines to be held, and Shelby hoists him onto her lap.
Jasmine comes outside when she gets off the phone. “I had to say I hated you,” she says. “Otherwise it wouldn’t make sense for me to have locked myself in the bathroom.”
“That’s just fine. Say whatever you want, just come home on time so your mother doesn’t kill me. I told her I would take care of you, so while I’m here, just do what I tell you.”
“Were you bald in high school?” Jasmine asks.
“No. I was pretty. I had long brown hair.”
“What happened to you?”
Shelby tries to explain her situation as best she can without the details. “I stopped caring about things.”
“Not everything. You care about your dogs.”
“Stop trying to psychoanalyze me,” Shelby says.
“Stop trying to tell me what to do.”
They both fall silent.
“I’ll come home on time tomorrow,” Jasmine says.
“It’s not because I care whether or not you do.”
“How late can I stay up?”
The schedule says ten o’clock.
“Midnight,” Shelby tells her.
You have to give the enemy some leeway.
“Fine,” Jasmine says.
The next morning is smoother. Everyone leaves for school. Dorian heads out with Teddy without mentioning the monster. Jasmine, wearing eyeliner and lipstick and big hoop earrings, has vowed to be home by three and asks if Shelby can help her with a science report.
Shelby finally takes a shower. It’s the best shower she’s ever had. She stands under the spray until the hot water is gone. She uses Maravelle’s green-tea-scented soap and Neutrogena body oil. After she’s dressed, Shelby clips the dogs’ leashes on and walks down the avenue. She saw a hardware store yesterday and now returns to buy a pair of work gloves and wire cutters. Ben calls her later in the day.
“Still hate kids?” he asks.
“Not as much,” Shelby admits.
“I bet they love you.”
“Only an idiot would love me,” Shelby blurts.
There’s silence on the other end of the line. Shelby has been pushing Ben away from the start of their relationship. All at once she realizes if she pushes too hard he may no longer be there.
“Ben,” she says. “I didn’t mean you.” When there’s no response, Shelby says, “Are you there?”
“I’m here,” he tells her, but she can’t help but wonder for how long.
After the kids are safely home, Shelby helps Jasmine with her ecology report, grateful that she herself is taking a bioecology class this semester and therefore knows more than she ever expected to about recycling. When they’re through, Shelby is so exhausted she falls asleep on the floor and doesn’t wake until past dinnertime. She was supposed to have made meatballs with tomato sauce. That’s what’s on the schedule. Instead she goes into the kitchen to look through the restaurant section of the local paper.
“How’s House of Chen?” she asks Jasmine.
“We don’t go there,” Jasmine tells her. “It’s too expensive.”
Shelby orders pork fried rice, spare ribs, orange-flavored beef, white rice, and General Tso’s chicken. She gets an order of egg rolls for the twins.
“I’m not going to like this,” Teddy assures her after the delivery guy drops off the food. Shelby has already dumped the fortune cookies in her backpack. No reason for these kids to think the future will be handed to them on slips of paper.
“Me either,” Dorian agrees.
“Good,” Jasmine says. “More for me.”
They all eat huge plates of food. After dinner, while Shelby is rinsing the silverware, Dorian comes up to stand beside her at the sink.
“The monster didn’t bark at me today,” he says.
“He’s a Great Pyrenees. His breed of dog was used in the mountains in France to rescue people. They would go through snowdrifts and find people who were lost in avalanches, just like Saint Bernards.”
“So they’re saints, too?” Dorian asks.
“Kind of.”
“I liked the food,” Dorian says.
Shelby knows there’s no point feeling this way about someone you’re only spending a few days with.
“Thanks, Dorian,” she says.
Dorian stays in the kitchen while Shelby washes the dishes.
“So maybe I’ll rescue him,” she says casually. “What do you think?”
“Good idea,” Dorian agrees. “I was thinking the same thing.”
When the boys are in bed and Jasmine is in her pajamas, lying on the couch with Blinkie and the General, Shelby borrows one of Maravelle’s jackets and slips it on. It’s black leather and fits her perfectly. She has the wire cutters and gloves. At the last minute, she grabs the container of leftover orange-flavored beef.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” she tells Jasmine. “Don’t open the door.”
Jasmine is suddenly interested. “Where are you going? Do you need me?”
In her pajamas, without any makeup, Jasmine looks like a little girl. She has Blinkie sitting on her lap as if he were a stuffed animal.
“Thanks, but this is a one-person job.”
She runs all the way.
There is the big dog, at the end of his chain, watching the street. He sees her and stares.
“Don’t make any noise,” Shelby tells him.
She begins to cut through the fence. She’s breathing too hard because she’s nervous. Maravelle will kill her if she ever finds out Shelby left Jasmine in charge so she could commit a felony or a misdemeanor or whatever breaking and entering to steal personal property is considered.
Shelby rolls the fence back. She’s seen it done on TV. Then she climbs through. The big dog looks at her, but doesn’t lunge. Shelby waves the container of orange-flavored beef, then pours some on the ground. The dog comes to devour the Chinese food. While he does, Shelby cuts his chain from the pole. He looks up at her, drooling. He has streaks of blood on his fur along with dirt and oil and lots of drool. He makes her think of a screwed-up piece of modern art.
“Pablo Picasso,” Shelby says. She grabs the end of his chain. “Let’s go, Pablo.”
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Shelby crouches back through the fence, and the dog follows behind. She can feel his weight on the other end of the chain. As soon as they’re through, Shelby sprints off and the dog runs behind her. When they get to Maravelle’s, she takes him into the yard. There she bends over, hands on her knees, and tries to catch her breath.
Jasmine has heard something; she cracks open the back door to take a peek, then rushes out, Blinkie in her arms. “Oh my God! You’re crazy!” she cries out. “You can’t bring that thing here!”
General Tso races through the open door, barking.
“Grab him,” Shelby shouts, afraid the big dog will snap up the General in one bite, but it’s too late. The General runs up to the Great Pyrenees, yapping. The big dog leans down and sniffs him. The General gives off a few more soulful barks, then sniffs back.
“My mother will kill you,” Jasmine says.
“She won’t know. And stop staring at him. He’s been abused, that’s why he looks this way.”
They go inside, all of them.
“She will seriously kill you,” Jasmine says in a hushed voice.
Shelby grabs a bowl and fills it with kibble. The Great Pyrenees eats it up in a few gulps.
“Do you think he’ll attack Blinkie?” Jasmine asks.
“He seems pretty calm.”
Jasmine lets Blinkie down. The big dog stands back while Blinkie licks out the bowl.
“His name’s Pablo,” Shelby says.
“I think you’re the craziest person I ever met,” Jasmine announces.
“Thanks,” Shelby says.
“I didn’t mean it in a bad way.” Jasmine is studying Shelby. “I just think you’d be prettier if you weren’t bald.”
The next morning Shelby is in the kitchen having a cup of coffee when Dorian and Teddy come out of the bedroom. She’s got this schedule thing down now.
“Holy shit,” Teddy says. He’s definitely going to cause Maravelle grief someday. Shelby can tell from the grin on his face. He’s drawn to trouble.
Pablo is on the kitchen floor. He looks like a white mountain.
“You did it.” Dorian pats Shelby on the back. Both boys ignore their breakfasts even though Shelby has made microwave waffles, something they’re allowed only on weekends.
“Is he alive?” Teddy asks.
“Oh, yeah. He’s eaten a big bowl of kibble and been in the yard. You should see the size of his poops.”
Shelby had gotten up early to give the dog a bath out in the yard, using dishwashing soap and two buckets of warm water. Pablo is still dirty, but he definitely looks better without the blood. He’s damp and has the blankety smell of a wet dog. He’d been very patient about Shelby washing him. He’s a big, resigned creature. Pablo, she said to him as she toweled him off, how did you get such a good heart?
“Our mother hates dogs. She says they shed,” Teddy tells Shelby as he takes a few bites of his waffle. “And they shit.” He gives Shelby a look to see if he’ll get a rise out of her when he uses bad language. He doesn’t, so he shrugs. Then, as an afterthought, he asks Dorian, “Isn’t he the monster?”
This is Shelby’s last full day with the kids. Tomorrow Maravelle will be back. Shelby adds six cookies to each of their lunch bags and cans of orange soda, even though she’s supposed to stick with juice boxes. Jasmine comes out of the bathroom, dressed and ready for school. She’s wearing pale coral lipstick, but no eye makeup. Shelby guesses it’s a draw between them.
Jasmine grabs a waffle and heads off.
“Come right home after school,” Shelby calls to her.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. See you later. See you, Pablo,” she adds.
“I like Pablo,” Dorian tells Shelby when he stops at the counter to grab his lunch.
“He’s the strong silent type,” Shelby says.
Dorian gives Shelby a hug, which nearly undoes her. “Thanks for fixing him,” he says. “He looks good.”
Shelby decides to meet the bus after school. She doesn’t want to take any chances on a mix-up or a lost kid on her last afternoon in Queens. She stops at the deli for a café con leche and a bag of chips.
“Hey there,” the counterman she met on the street calls to her. “I guess you don’t mess around.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” Shelby fits a takeaway cover onto her café con leche. But when she reaches into her jeans pocket for some money to pay, the counterman stops her.
“The coffee’s on me. You saved me a fortune in stale rolls. I used to give him two or three a day. You did a good thing.”
Shelby shakes hands with the counterman, then heads outside. It’s a good thing she’s leaving. She’s getting too attached. But for today she just plans to enjoy the fact that she rescued something. Across the street someone has already patched together the hole in the fence. No one would even notice there’s been any damage, except the new fencing is green. When Shelby spies the kids getting off the bus, she puts both arms over her head and waves. At that moment, standing on a corner in Queens, waiting for three kids who are racing toward her, she is exactly where she wants to be.
CHAPTER
4
Sue Richmond is coming to visit and there’s no way to put it off. Shelby has kept her mother away from the apartment with a string of excuses for as long as she possibly can. She’s afraid her mom will be shocked by her living conditions, but Sue won’t take no for an answer this time because she wants to celebrate. The occasion is Shelby’s twenty-first birthday, which Shelby would just as soon ignore. All this week she’s been preparing for her mom with a cleaning frenzy. But even after she’s swept and mopped and attacked the teeny bathroom with a vengeance, the apartment still looks terrible.
“Your mother’s coming to see you, not the apartment,” Ben says. He wishes he could join them for lunch, but he works uptown in the school’s clinic. He brushes Pablo’s hair from his black slacks. He is not a fan of the Great Pyrenees: there’s the shedding, the cost of his food, the way Pablo sprawls across the couch. “Small apartments should have small dogs” was Ben’s initial response when Shelby brought Pablo home. Their place is three hundred square feet. There’s hardly any storage space, so coats and boots are shoved under the bed. Pots and pans line the small countertop, the washed and the unwashed side by side. There’s a big garbage can filled with kibble that takes up most of the small hallway. But there are no decorations on the walls, no prints, no paintings, nothing to hide the peeling paint; it’s as if this place was nothing more than a pit stop when in fact Shelby and Ben have lived here for nearly two years.
When her mother arrives, Shelby buzzes her in. It’s a cold March day and Sue is out of breath by the time she gets up the four flights of stairs.
“I guess you don’t need to exercise when you have to climb all the way up here,” Sue says, collapsing on the couch next to Pablo. “Hello there, big boy,” she says to him, stroking his boxy head. Shelby notices that the couch is worn, with frayed threads on the arms. “This is a cute apartment,” Sue says as she gazes around. “It’s compact.”
“It’s the size of a closet,” Shelby says.
“A closet would have shelves.” Sue laughs, and Shelby does too. Her mother wants to see the best in everything and everyone. She’s brought along two shopping bags full of presents. There are chocolates and a soft alpaca shawl and a new set of sheets, all very much appreciated. “I know you usually prefer black, but the green looked so springy.”
“Definitely springy,” Shelby says of the shawl. She already knows she’ll never wear it.
“You’re only twenty-one once,” Sue says cheerfully. “It’s a big day. I think you’ve made this place very homey,” she adds, even though Shelby is fairly certain her mom has spied the mousetraps in the corners. Her dogs don’t bother to go after the mice; they just watch them as though they were some form of entertainment. Shelby gets Havaha
rt traps so she can bring the ones she captures down to the riverside.
They go to a French restaurant on Ninth Avenue because Shelby knows her mother wouldn’t approve of the Hunan Kitchen as festive enough for the occasion. Hunan is more of a takeout place with two plastic tables set near the window. The bistro is funky with a touch of elegance. They order beet salads and glasses of white wine and sit in uncomfortable rattan chairs. Sue thinks the place is charming. “I’m so glad I get to take you out!” she says. Shelby keeps her mouth shut. She doesn’t want to be a downer, but all this birthday means to her is that she’s lived four more years than Helene.
“I can’t believe you’re a biology major,” Sue says. “I always knew you could do anything you wanted to.”
“It’s not like I’m going to be a doctor or anything,” Shelby says. But secretly she has been thinking about vet school. It’s stupid, she’d never be smart enough; all the same she could do some good for the creatures that need her.
“I forgot to give you this,” Sue says, pushing an envelope across the table.
It’s a birthday card with a photo of a basset hound. Inside the message reads: Have an Arfing great birthday.
“Very funny,” Shelby says. She opens the card to discover five one-hundred-dollar bills. “Mom,” she says. She knows her parents are having money problems. “You don’t need to do this.”
“Your father sold the store, so I wanted you to share in the good luck.”
Dan Richmond has always said the family store he inherited from his father would only be taken away over his dead body.
“Are you kidding me? He sold it? When was he going to tell me? After my death?”
“It’s going to be a Starbucks,” Sue tells her cheerfully. “They bought out his lease, and your dad got a job at the Walt Whitman Mall. The men’s department at Macy’s.”
Shelby is fairly certain that Walt Whitman has been turning over in his grave ever since the mall on Long Island was named for him. She and Helene used to go there every Saturday. Shelby thinks of the day they bought their matching bracelets. They had saved up for months. Babysitting money, allowances, chores. They’d been so proud of themselves.