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"When?"
They always ended up in this uncomfortable place. He could tell Marlowe just about anything: tomorrow, two weeks from tomorrow, a year from next Tuesday, and to the simple animal it all meant pretty much the same thing. The dog, as with almost all animals, had no real concept of the passage of time. He lived for the moment, the now. That was what Marlowe truly wanted. He wanted Madeline home with them now, probably just as much as Remy himself did. Marlowe wanted the pack to be whole again, wanted life to be how it used to be.
How it was supposed to be.
But things had changed, and life never would be the same again. And how did he explain to this simple, loving animal that what it desired most could never be? Remy was the alpha male… The master, the provider. How could he not make this happen?
Instead, Remy ignored the dog, concentrating on getting home as quickly as possible. The remainder of the ride was filled with silent tension as Remy waited for the animal to press the issue, but Marlowe chose not to. In fact, he seemed more concerned with barking a greeting through the open window every now and again as they passed people walking their dogs.
The gods of parking must have been feeling especially benevolent, for Remy managed to find a space right on Hancock Street, near the State House. With a dazzling display of parallel parking — one of the most dif-
ficult things I've had to master as a human — Remy parked the Toyota for the night.
After a leisurely walk back to the brownstone, Remy retrieved his mail from the basket in the foyer and, unlocking the i
Remy glanced at the wall clock as he left the living room, and saw that it was past the dog's supper time.
"Hey, pal, want to eat?" he asked, going into the kitchen. He got the dog some fresh water and then went to a cabinet beneath one of the counters for the container of Marlowe's food. With a plastic measuring cup he filled the dog's bowl and turned to put it down.
Marlowe still stood just inside the doorway, his stare intense. Normally the Lab would have been pushing Remy out of the way to get at his supper, but tonight something was different. There was a look in the animal's eyes that the angel immediately understood — the conversation that had begun in the car was not yet over.
"When?" Marlowe said pointedly.
Remy set the bowl down on the place mat next to Marlowe's water. The Labrador still didn't move, showing a self-control that he'd never displayed before.
The dog continued to stare, and finally Remy knelt, calling the Labrador to him. Tentatively, Marlowe approached, head low, ears flat, obviously thinking he was in trouble.
"Not bad," he grumbled.
"No, not bad," Remy said with a sad smile. He pulled the dog closer and lovingly rubbed the animal's ears. "You're a good boy, a very good boy."
He took Marlowe's blocky head in his hands and held his face close to his own. The dog's pink tongue shot out, licking Remy's face affectionately.
"I am good boy," he agreed, tailing wagging. "I am."
"Yes you are, but we need to talk about Madeline."
Marlowe's tail slowed, dropping down, only twitching slightly. "When coming home?"
Remy gently held the dog's face, gazing into his deep, brown eyes. "She's not," he said firmly, feeling his own heart break with the words. "Madeline has to stay at the get-well place, Marlowe. They are going to take care of her there, because we can't do that here."
The dog whined sadly. "No. Want Maddie. Now. Want Maddie. Home."
"I'm sorry," Remy said. "But she is not coming home. She's very sick and…" He paused, trying to find the right words. There wasn't any easy way to say it, so he simply let the words come. "She's going to die, Marlowe."
The animal tried to pull away, but Remy held him in place.
"No die," he whined, the nails on his feet clicking upon the tiled floor. "No die."
Remy let the dog go and he left the kitchen, tail tucked between his legs. "I'm sorry," he called after the animal, and no truer words were ever spoken.
"I'm so, so sorry."
Remy thought he might be able to relax a bit by watching some of his favorite home-improvement shows, but he never got that far.
The evening news caught his attention, every story worse than the one before it. Escalating violence in the Middle East, hunger and disease ru
Dangerous isn't the word, Remy thought with a sigh, picking up the remote from the arm of his chair and turning off the set before yet another story could send him plummeting further into the depths of depression.
The evening had become pretty much a wash, and Remy decided that he might as well go up to bed. Maybe a few more chapters of Farewell My Lovely would help ease his funk.
He headed for the kitchen, calling Marlowe, for one last trip outside. When the canine didn't answer, Remy strolled down the hallway to the spare room that the dog had claimed for his own. The black Labrador was curled into a tight ball on his tattered blanket, the floor about him strewn with stuffed toys.
"I'm going to bed now," Remy said. "Do you need to go outside?"
"No outside," the dog mumbled, not even lifting his head.
"Are you sure?" Remy asked.
"Sure," the dog answered, obviously still very upset over the news that Madeline was not returning to his pack.
"Well, good night, then," the angel said, waiting to see if the dog was going to join him in bed, as he often did. But Marlowe remained in his own place, closing his eyes with an elongated sigh. He didn't even want his bedtime snack.
"I guess I'll see you in the morning."
In all actuality, Remy didn't have to sleep, but he had learned to do so out of boredom and loneliness during the early morning hours while he waited for the rest of the world to awaken. It hadn't taken him long to teach himself, and he soon found that he quite enjoyed the act of shutting down to recharge his batteries. It felt good to escape the constant conflict between his angelic nature and the human guise he worked so hard to maintain, even if it was for just a short time.
Once again Remy found it difficult to focus on Chandler's words, and finally decided that it was time to call it a night. He laid the book facedown on his bedside table and was reaching to turn off the light when he sensed that he was no longer alone.
Marlowe stood in the doorway to the bedroom, staring.
"What is it, bud? Do you have to go outside?"
"Leave pack too?" the animal asked. "Leave Marlowe like Maddie?"
Remy sighed, a wave of empathy for the animal's sadness passing over him. "No, Marlowe," he said gently. "I won't leave you."
He patted an area of bed beside him, and the Labrador bounded from the doorway up onto the bed, tail twitching nervously. Remy rubbed the dog's floppy black ears, allowing the animal to lick his face.
"You're the best boy," Remy told him. "How could I ever leave you, huh? How could I?"
"Marlowe best," the dog said, happily panting. "Marlowe best boy ever."
"Yes, you are," he told the animal. "Why don't you lie down now?"
The dog plopped heavily beside him, and even though there was plenty of room for both of them, his butt was pressed firmly against Remy's leg as he settled down.