Earnest (17 page)

C
HAPTER
33

O
n Waterfront Park's rocky beach, Jeff and Anna waited with Earnest for the Christmas boat parade. Each person in the crowd held a lighted red candle and a copy of the carols' lyrics, compliments of the Rotary Club. The moon shone on the dark water, which was ruffled by a cold breeze. Everyone was talking.

Including Jeff. He scolded Anna, “Look how thick Earnest is around the middle. Don't you see he's getting portly?”

Yes, Anna saw, but she didn't need Jeff pointing it out like she was a blindfolded amoeba.

“You're not walking him enough,” Jeff said.

“Christmas is my busiest time. I don't have enough hours in the day,” Anna defended. “Besides, you know Earnest doesn't like to go out in the rain.”

“He doesn't complain about it when
I
take him out.”

“Maybe you don't read the signals. Rain makes him unhappy. It shows in his face.”

“When I take him jogging, he loves it no matter what the weather is.”

In other words, I'm a better dog parent than you are,
Jeff was saying.

The gall,
Anna thought. She tugged her parka closed against the cold. She was bundled in layers, a thermal onion, but a chill was seeping through. “I walk Earnest every morning unless there's a storm.”

“That's not enough exercise. It's a lot harder on Earnest to lose weight than not to gain it in the first place,” Jeff nagged. “If you let him get fat, it's a terrible mistake.”

You are the terrible mistake.
Not to put too fine a point on it, so was agreeing to meet Jeff for the parade. The plan was to turn Earnest over to him for the holiday here instead of at Plant Parenthood. It had seemed like a good idea.

Anna had thought the parade could substitute for their weekly walk with Earnest. If they were singing carols, they wouldn't have to talk. And Earnest had always loved this night. When he'd spotted Jeff walking down the hill to join them, he'd dashed to him, the red bow around his neck dancing as surely as his paws. He'd led Jeff to Anna.
My family is together! Jingle bells! Joy to the world!

Now, however, Anna gripped her candle and felt little joy. She wished she'd never said she'd come tonight. She felt sad—and not just because Jeff had lectured her about Earnest's weight as if he were a lord and she were a peon. She also felt sad because Christmas rekindled memories of Grammy's death and of lonely holidays at boarding school, and on this Christmas Anna would remember past happy ones with Jeff and Earnest—and she'd be alone again. The prospect made her heart feel like a rag someone was twisting water out of. Just when Anna needed Earnest, he'd be with Jeff.

Who, by the way, was wearing his best cashmere sports coat and gray slacks under the black topcoat he saved for special occasions. Undoubtedly, after the parade he was taking out some attractive, dressed-up woman—maybe that grocery checker. Not that Anna minded.
She
would never dress up for Jeff again. Not if wild horses dragged her to her closet. Not if someone offered her a winning lotto ticket.

When her candle's hot wax dripped on her wrist, she wiped it off to stop the burn. She turned and watched the Christmas Ship, a Seattle tour boat, blasting “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” over loud speakers as it came into the dock. Earnest sat between Anna and Jeff and gazed at the ship so intently that he might have expected the passengers to toss him steak and cheese.

When the ship drifted to a stop, a choir in white robes filed out on deck and sang, “Frosty the Snowman,” accompanied by a horn, saxophone, and trombone. Then everyone filed back inside, like cuckoos who'd just announced the hour on their clock. Blasting “Santa Baby,” the ship started up, circled the harbor, and sailed back to Puget Sound. And the shore got quiet again.

As if by magic, out of the foggy darkness, sail- and powerboats emerged, one by one. They were lit up with clear and stained-glass-colored Christmas lights—strung-up masts, down halyards, along transoms and gunwales, around bows and sterns and hulls. As the boats passed by, their lights' reflections shimmered on the silent water. The Christmas spirit seemed to shine down on the crowd as surely as the silver moon.

Then everyone sang carols. “Deck the Halls.” “The First Noel.” “The Twelve Days of Christmas.” “Silver Bells.” And, finally, “We Wish You a Merry Christmas.” Jeff boomed out the words in his commanding tenor's voice. Earnest cocked his ears and listened. Anna forced herself to sing for Earnest's sake, but her words came out more as obligatory husks than heartfelt kernels.

The crowd burst into applause. They blew out their candles, folded their lyrics, and stuffed them into their coat pockets. As everyone began to disperse, up the hill next to Puget Sound Bank, Lloyd McGregor, Gamble's bagpiper and the owner of the Squeaky Wheel bike shop, began playing his usual, “Amazing Grace.”

“Here.” From around her neck, Anna unlooped Earnest's leash and handed it to Jeff. She told herself,
You will not cry.
“And here are Earnest's Christmas presents.” Blinking hard, she pulled a box of small wrapped packages from her tote bag. “I hope he likes his squeaky c-a-r-r-o-t,” she spelled, just as she and Jeff spelled b-i-s-c-u-i-t, r-i-d-e, w-a-l-k, c-h-e-e-s-e, and j-o-g to keep secrets from Earnest.

Anna felt too sad to look at Jeff, but then their eyes met. Two puzzled lines were etched above his eyebrows.

“Anna, are you all right?”

“I'm fine.”

“Um . . . Do you think . . . Would you like to . . .” Jeff seemed to think better of continuing. He gazed beyond the crowd at nothing in particular.

Jeff looked back at her again and took her presents. “Thanks. I'm sure he'll like his c-a-r-r-o-t.” He attached Earnest's leash to his collar. “Merry Christmas.” Jeff led Earnest up the hill.

With mournful eyes, Earnest looked back at Anna. She watched, feeling lost and miserable and suddenly tired of carrying a grudge. As “Amazing Grace” billowed through the cold night air, Anna thought,
Maybe Jeff was going to ask me to come over on Christmas morning and watch Earnest open his presents. Maybe Jeff was about to try to bridge the gap so we won't hate each other anymore.

Anna closed her eyes at the unbearable sadness of that thought. She was standing on the corner of Anger and Grief, and she was not sure in which direction to turn. But then she chose Anger. It was an easier street to travel than Grief. Grief hurt more. It extracted a higher cost. It had more cracks in the concrete.

C
HAPTER
34

L
ate in January, the morning was unusually cold. The sun was barely rising over the mountains, so all Jeff could see was a warm, pink glow. Wisps of clouds hung above the snowy peaks, which the early light turned lavender. Jeff figured it must be going on six o'clock. With clear roads, he'd get to the cabin by eight.

Earnest, never a morning person, was power napping in the backseat. Jeff had startled him out of a dead sleep at 4:00 a.m. Though not pleased at the disruption of his rest, he, a newly recovered Hoover eater, had gobbled down his breakfast and licked his bowl clean. He had staggered back to bed, clearly intending to get in a few more hours of serious snoring.

But Jeff had made him a blanket nest in the car and, with a people cracker, coaxed him outside into the cold. “We're going cross-country skiing!” Jeff had lilted his voice at “skiing” like it was the pinnacle of every dog's desires. Once Earnest had romped through snow, Jeff would have to spell out s-k-i-i-n-g to keep him from going wild at the spoken word.

Now, after working late last night to prepare for next week's planning commission meeting, Jeff himself was almost going wild with anticipation. Judy, his date for the weekend, had driven up earlier with two couples from Starbucks, where she worked in the marketing department. She was at the cabin waiting for Jeff—and for fun.

Jeff had met Judy online. Miles ahead of Tiffany in decency and conversation, she had restored his faith in North westSingles.com. She was nearly as tall as he, and willowy and graceful. For twelve years, she'd studied dance, and her supple body testified to every pirouette and
grand jeté
. Though Judy had been blonde in her online photo, by the time Jeff got to her, she'd gone back to brunette. Her wavy hair cascaded down her back, the better to entwine his fingers in when they made love.

That
was his goal for the weekend. Making love! He'd thought of little else but sex since their third date for a drink last week, when Judy had invited him to ski. Though they'd not discussed sleeping arrangements, he assumed that he and Judy would be together—and he was ready. Impatiently cooling their heels in his Dopp kit were five condoms—
well, you never can predict these things.
If Judy brought her own form of birth control, his condoms would be redundant. But he was prepared!

He'd shopped for his contribution to the communal meals thinking only of pleasing her. To get her comfortable with him and loosen inhibitions, he'd bought merlot and chardonnay. Because she'd mentioned that she loved chocolate cake, he'd picked one up at the Sweet Time Bakery. How could he fail with a cake that came from a place named Sweet Time?! Jeff had brought avocados for the salad, olives and dolmas for après-ski hors d'oeuvres, and figs and blueberries for breakfast.

After the catastrophe with Tiffany, the only thing he was not quite ready for was introducing Earnest to Judy. Last week to set the stage, Jeff had explained his and Anna's custody arrangement and asked, “Would it be okay with you if I brought Earnest to the cabin?”

“Sure,” Judy said. No hesitation. “I grew up with a black Lab named Dickens. I know I'll love Earnest.”

“Your friends won't mind if he's there?”

“How could anybody mind a sweet Lab?”

“My last NorthwestSingles date minded a lot.” Jeff explained Earnest's barks at Tiffany as if they were a joke. “Earnest knew the match was wrong.”
Ha-ha!

“He could bark all he wanted, and he wouldn't scare me.”

“Don't worry about your dog, Jeff. There are lots more important things to think about.”

Jeff zoomed along the highway toward Judy and her bed.

 

Till now Jeff had only pecked Judy's cheek in bars as they'd greeted each other or were about to go their separate ways. But when he knocked on the cabin door, she crunched out onto the icy porch, wrapped her arms around his neck, and planted a saucy smackeroo on his mouth. She let him know that there would be no more kisses on the run and she meant business.
Hurrah!

Euphoric, Jeff introduced her to Earnest, who wagged his tail—
so far so good!
And she introduced them to her friends. Jeff and Judy unpacked his car as Earnest leapt through the snow like an ebullient reindeer. Jeff 's hopes for a lust-filled weekend soared.

Except for a long lunch, holding hands in a warming hut, Jeff and Judy skied all day, and Earnest ran along with them, a wheat-colored Alberto Tomba. Back at the cabin, Jeff talked little with her friends because he was so focused on future pleasure. His eyes on Judy, he opened his wine with eager thoughts of loosened inhibitions. He added his olives and dolmas to the hors d'oeuvres tray.

When everyone gathered around the dining table, Earnest climbed underneath to explore the forest of legs. Then he began an ardent game of Pick the Pansy to target who would give him treats. He laid his head in laps, and his beseeching eyes explained that he was a starving orphan who never got anything to eat but moldy gruel. After the Laurence Olivier performance, Earnest feasted on cheese, chips, chunks of meatballs, bits of buttered French bread, an avocado slice, and an olive. He staggered to the living room and conked out by the fireplace.

As Jeff 's anticipation heated, at last the dishes got washed, the brandy got drunk, and it was finally—
finally!
—time for bed. Judy used the bathroom first, then disappeared into the bedroom, where under his pillow Jeff had secreted the condoms. He brushed his teeth and stepped into his pajamas, which, if he had anything to say about it, would be shed in the next two minutes. His masculinity in high gear, he opened the bedroom door like he was raising the lid off a box of chocolates—and they were all his!

Earnest plopped down on the rug next to what was about to be Jeff 's side of the bed. Nearly panting with expectation, Jeff lifted the covers to climb in. His eagerness seemed to stop time; he felt that the entire universe was waiting for this moment to unfold. Judy was lying there in a filmy pink nightgown with spaghetti straps that he would delight in sliding off her shoulders. She looked relaxed, as if she'd been poured into the sheets. Her lovely breasts were visible, ripe apples to be plucked.

“Hi.” Jeff 's voice was husky with desire.

“Jeff, you can't really be thinking of letting Earnest stay in here.”

Still gripping the covers, Jeff froze. “He always sleeps with me.”

“I don't want him watching us.”

Earnest's presence in the bedroom had never bothered Anna. He'd known when not to climb onto the bed.With impeccable discretion, he'd politely slept on the floor, his eyes firmly closed while waiting for Jeff and Anna to finish. Only later had he stationed himself in his nightly roosting place between them.

But now at this of all times, Jeff did not want to think of Anna. He banished her from his thoughts and slammed his mental door closed. “I'll put Earnest in the living room,” he offered.

“Good.”

Jeff opened the bedroom door again. “Come on, Earnest. Out.”

Earnest looked up. His bristled eyebrows said,
I don't speak English.

“Come on,” Jeff urged.

“I mean it. Go sleep by the fire. It's still warm in there.”

“Earnest,” Jeff called in his sternest voice.

“You need to show him who's boss.” Judy yawned, like any second she might fall into a deep, immobilizing sleep, and Jeff had better hurry.

He walked back to Earnest and grabbed his collar. Never before had Jeff forcibly dragged his cooperative dog anywhere. It hurt Jeff to do it, but Earnest's recalcitrance left him no choice. “Out. Now.”

As Jeff tugged Earnest to the door, he scraped his toenails into the wood between the bedroom's islands of rugs. He wailed, a noise Jeff had never heard from him before. When Earnest knew he was losing the battle, he took the opposite course, rolled onto his back, and went limp in passive resistance.

Earnest's upturned paws protested,
I need to stay in the bedroom. I'm supposed to protect you.

Jeff pulled Earnest to the fireplace. “Now, you behave.” As he left him in the living room, Jeff looked back.

Earnest's dark and disapproving look said irrefutably,
I am a sensitive dog, and you have bruised my feelings.

That was not what Jeff wanted to think about as he climbed into bed. He took the delectable Judy into his arms and smelled her fragrant shampoo. Her flesh felt soft beneath his touch. Her breasts pressed into him. Like sipping nectar, he kissed her—long and slow and eager—until the horny desperado in him sprang to life, and he kissed her faster and harder.

Jeff heard a whimper at the door.
No! Please, no.

Earnest's whimpers insisted,
I want to be with Jeff.

Jeff broke the kiss. “He'll quiet down in a minute,” he mumbled, his lips brushing Judy's neck. He raised his head and added with a wicked smile, “Where were we?” He returned to serious nibbling of her flesh.

Earnest whined again, shrill, high-pitched whines designed to annoy, coerce, and block Jeff 's primrose path.
Don't forget me. I'm here! I'm here!

“He's going to keep everybody awake,” Judy said.

Jeff groaned and rolled away.

Scratch, scratch.
Earnest's nails on the door.

Judy sat up, and a spaghetti strap drifted down her shoulder. “This isn't working.”

Tiffany's exact words before storming out of the Unicorn
. Jeff covered his face with his hands.

“Earnest will hurt the paint. He'll ruin the door. We want to get back our rental deposit,” Judy said.

“I don't know where else to put him.”

“In the car?”

“It's too cold out there. He'd freeze.”

“You can't let him scratch all night.”

Judy seemed to sprinkle scorn, like vinegar, all over the bed, and there was no dry place left for Jeff to sleep. He threw back the covers, got up, and took his blanket, folded at the foot. If Jeff were a dog, he might have exited the room with his tail plastered between his legs. Lacking a tail, he simply left, emanating dismay and disappointment.
Paradise lost.

In the living room, Earnest welcomed Jeff with yips and pranced around his legs.
Mission accomplished! We are reunited! I have Jeff!

“Shhhh.” It would take Jeff a while to forgive him. A decade, perhaps.

Jeff curled up into the fetal position because the sofa was too short. He thrashed and tossed all night, while Earnest snored peacefully beside him without a worry in the world. At dawn, Jeff tiptoed around the cabin, packed up his belongings, including his uneaten breakfast figs, and hustled Earnest to the car. As he drove back toward Seattle, he left defeat behind him.

He wondered if Judy and her friends were up yet, and he remembered accidentally leaving under the pillow his damned condoms, those embarrassing, foil-wrapped packages of desire and hope. When Judy stripped the bed, she would find them. She might laugh.

Ahead on the side of the highway stood Humiliation, his thumb raised to hitch a ride. Jeff stopped to pick him up. As Humiliation climbed into the backseat in his trench coat and fedora, he chuckled,
So much for you, Lothario. Eat your heart out.