“I’ve been cut out of my own rescue video! That’s so unfair.”
“Why were you even out there? Who was that guy? Mom says you were on a date with him. He’s sooo not your type. I’m guessing this is part of that dog dating site?”
“Who, him?” I say breezily. “Oh, just some guy I met online.”
“You wouldn’t date a guy like that with a ten foot pole and a can of troll spray in your hand, Amanda.”
“Hey! That’s not nice. Jordan’s a sweet man.”
“I heard. Turns out he’s the florist Mom’s been whining about for the past six months. I think Mom only saved that dog so she could get him for my wedding.”
I finish with the foundation and look at myself.
Tears fill my eyes.
“Hashtag doghater? #Doghater? Who started that?”
“Who do you think?”
“Jessica Coffin?”
“Your Twitter best friend,” Shannon says with a grunt.
“She’s passé. Like Ann Coulter. So self-absorbed she still thinks she’s important.”
“She still has lots of followers. People like snark. And poop, apparently.”
“But you’re not bitter.”
She snorts and sounds just enough like Muffin to scare me.
“Can you come over? I need help,” I beg.
“Cheetos and marshmallows kind of help?”
“Getting ready for a date kind of help.”
“New guy? What’s his name? Shrek?”
“Andrew.”
“Andrew Andrew?”
“Yep.”
“He asked you out on a date?” Shannon’s obvious incredulity makes me laugh and cry at the same time.
“Yes.”
“A real date?”
“He asked me out for dinner.”
“Not just business?”
“No.”
“And not to talk about my wedding?”
Oh.
Hmm.
Hadn’t thought about that.
Spritzy comes into the room and licks my ankle. It stings. I look down. Another abrasion. Great. I bend down and give him loads of attention and even a kiss on the top of his head. Would a dog hater do that?
“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
“How can you get here in ten minutes?”
“I was already on my way.”
“Why?”
“Because Declan told me Andrew told him he’d asked you out.”
“You pretended you didn’t know?” I squeak. “Did he include a note with a checkbox that says Do you Like Me: Yes or No?”
She laughs. I laugh. I sniffle. I feel like Jordan suddenly.
“I’m almost there and I do have Cheetos and marshmallows.”
“Thank you.”
“Thank Declan.”
“Why?”
“He made me bring them. Said they’re disgusting and doesn’t want them cluttering the kitchen.”
“Tell him he doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”
Chapter Twelve
When Shannon arrives, I’m surprised to see her actually driving. At the wheel of a Tesla.
She emerges with a smile, carrying a plastic grocery bag.
I hug her a little tighter than usual.
“Nice wheels.”
“Not mine. Declan’s new toy.”
“They’ll be half yours, soon.”
She punches me and rolls her eyes as we walk into the house.
“Shannon!” Mom emerges from her home office, a heating pad wrapped around her neck and shoulders. As she hugs Shannon, it starts to slide to the ground. I bend and grab it, my movement effortless and automatic. Mom once watched me do that and explained how jealous she was, knowing I was able to make my limbs move, my joints pivot and bend at will to accomplish a needed task, and to do so without pain.
I’ve never forgotten that moment.
“What are you doing here?” Mom asks, smiling at my friend. “And please excuse the mess!”
I look around the living room. There is a magazine on the coffee table. Otherwise, the house is spotless. Perfectly, utterly, obsessively spotless. Mom moves like a cleaning ninja to the coffee table and casually slips the magazine into the holder next to the couch.
As she lifts up from her slight crouch, her eyelids flutter, half-closed, her breathing hitched.
Pain.
What seems so easy for some people is an entire universe of complexity for others.
“Hi, Pam. I’m here to deliver Cheetos and marshmallows, and to help rescue Amanda from herself.”
“In other words, the usual.”
The two laugh. Mom’s in good spirits today.
“Which movie are you watching?” Mom asks, then turns to look at me. She pulls back in surprise. “Look at you! You’re more beautiful than usual, aside from that nasty cut on your face.” She picks up Spritzy and gives him a kiss. “The cut was worth it. You were quite the hero today!” She gives me a big smile, then asks, “Are you two going out?”
I hold my breath. I’m not sure what to say.
Shannon’s face splits with a huge grin. “Amanda has a date.”
“A date date?” Mom asks, stretching her neck. Her face goes tight with tension. It’s her muscles, and not me, that she finds troubling.
“I think so.”
“You think so?” Her voice goes high and reedy. She’s on edge again.
“It’s with someone I work with, Mom.”
“Not Josh? He’s gay, right? Or is he bisexual? Maybe that new sex thing you kids do.” Mom turns a furious shade of red. She can’t ask for toilet paper, and she just said the word sex.