Think Twice

Alice remembered that saying about keeping your enemies closer, then looked at him with grateful eyes. “Would you really do that, for me?”

“Of course.” Grady leaned over and kissed her gently on the cheek, then there was a noise to the left as the EMPLOYEES ONLY doors banged open. A vet emerged and walked toward them, carrying a clipboard. His expression was serious, and Alice’s hopes soared.

“How is he?” she asked, rising, and so did Grady, slipping his arm around her shoulder.

“Please.” The vet waved them into their seats. “Please. Sit.”

Bad news! Alice sank into her seat with Grady’s arm around her.

“He has a hematoma on his spleen, a result of his fall. It didn’t show up on the X-ray but it did on the ultrasound. We can do surgery, but there can be serious complications, especially in a dog his age. I can’t say for sure that he’ll survive it, and the surgery is expensive. It could cost between three and five thousand dollars.”

Hell, no. Gas him now. If you don’t, I will. Got a hose?

“Our records show that you don’t have any insurance. I don’t know if you want to put him through that, or if you want to undertake that kind of expense.” The vet faced Alice, all earnest. “You can let him go, or see him through the surgery and hope for a good result, though the odds are very low. It’s a difficult decision.”

It’s a no-brainer. Alice acted like she was bravely holding back tears, and Grady leaned over to the vet.

“Doc, what would you do, in our position?”

“People always ask us that.” The vet smiled sadly. “Bear isn’t my dog, but I know how much you love him. Any decision you make will be the right one, because there are no wrong answers.”

Done deal. Alice was about to give the mutt the thumbs-down.

Grady asked, “Can we see him?”

“Of course, and if you do decide to put him down, you can be with him.”

Complete waste of ten minutes.

The vet led them out of the waiting room, through the doors, and into a huge room filled with examination tables, medical equipment, and vets in white coats and green scrubs, attending to animals in cages on three sides.

“Where is he?” Grady asked, and Alice hung back, playing the bereaved mother.

“Here.” The vet pointed to one of the large cages on the bottom, where Bear lay on a white blanket. His eyes were closed, and a plastic tube snaked from his front leg out of the cage to a bottle attached to the bars. He looked half-dead, and Alice felt like celebrating.

“Poor guy.” Grady crossed to the cage and knelt down.

“I know.” Alice stood behind him and tried to tear up-$5,000, $5,000 $5,000. In the next minute, her eyes were wet.

“Bear?” Grady called softly, and the dog raised his head slowly, and looked up at them. Then, all of a sudden, he freaked out, barking in fear and trying to get up. His back legs scissored, and his front clawed the blanket, yanking out the IV tube.

Alice knew he was reacting to her, but Grady leapt to his feet, flustered as the vet tried to calm the frantic dog, and two vet techs rushed over to help.

“Grady, back off,” Alice said. “He doesn’t remember you. You’re upsetting him. Let’s get you out of here.” She took Grady’s arm and hurried him through the double doors to the waiting room.

“I’m so sorry.” Flushed, Grady raked his hair back with his hands. “I thought he would know me. He did last night.”

“Last night he was barely conscious. Don’t feel bad. Maybe it’s the drugs they gave him.”

“No, it was me.” Grady pouted like a little boy, and Alice wished she could kiss him right there, tongue included.

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yes, it was. I shouldn’t have gone in. He didn’t look good at all, did he?”

“He looked awful.” Alice blinked away her bogus tears.

“He seems even older than yesterday, if that’s possible. How old is he?”

“It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him. He’s really aged.”

“Poor old guy.” Grady gave Alice a hug, and she let her arms encircle his waist, looking forward to a rematch.

“I hate to see him suffering like that.”

“I know.” Grady released her and looked into her eyes. “So what do you want to do? He’s your dog, it’s your decision.”

“I know what to do. The right thing.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Alice managed a shaky smile.

It could be a whole new thing. Grief sex.

Chapter Thirty-seven

Mary sat cross-legged on her bed, working in her Donovan McNabb jersey, gym shorts, and glasses. The air conditioner rattled, a hot coffee cooled on the night table, and her brief glowed on her laptop. All systems were go except her brain. She kept thinking of Anthony and whether she should call him. She wished she could take back some of those awful words.

She didn’t know if she was right or wrong. She didn’t know if a house mattered more than a man, or if it was a house that she was standing up for. It was confusing. She hadn’t known the words would come out of her mouth until they did, but when she heard them, they sounded true. She was standing up for herself, right?

She put it out of her mind and read the last paragraph of her brief for the umpteenth time. The facts section was empty because Alice hadn’t done anything bad yet, but the case law in the legal section needed editing. She had to email the brief to Be

Then buy it, partner.

She forced herself to refocus and deleted a word, trying to smooth out the writing, then her mind wandered and she picked up her BlackBerry. There were new emails from clients, but none from Anthony. No texts or calls from him that she’d missed by accident. She thought about calling him but she didn’t know what to say, and texting him would be so middle-school. Instead, she called Judy, who sounded out of breath, with salsa music blaring in the background.

“What’s that?” Mary asked. “You at a club?”

“No, home. Frank is teaching me how to samba.”

“Frank can samba?”

“Oh, there’s nothing that man doesn’t know.”

Mary smiled. “Catch you later. I just wanted to see how were feeling.”

“No more evil eye.”

“Congratulations, see you tomorrow.” Mary pressed END and set the phone back down.

She stared at the computer, feeling night falling like a closing curtain. She was betwixt and between, lost between apartment and house, associate and partner, boyfriend and late husband. She thought about calling her parents, but they’d ask about Anthony and she was the worst liar in the bar association. She would bet her father was hurt about what she’d said to him, but she couldn’t take that back, either. She wished she could talk to her sister, who was on yet another mission, a twin trying to prove she was unique.

Her gaze fell on the brief, and she wondered what it was like to be Be

DiNunzio, I appreciate you.

She read the paragraph again, reenergized. She didn’t have time for a pity party. She was a professional and she had a job to do. Be

She took a slug of warm coffee and got busy.