Page 38
Story: After Happily Ever After
It wasn’t exactly original or charming, but the first text was out there. I put the phone down and washed the hairs from Jim’s razor down the sink. When my phone vibrated, I pounced on it.
I’m at the dog park. How’re you?
He was cute and he had a dog, what more could one ask for? I read his text again. How was I? I couldn’t tell him the truth; he’d think my life was a mess, and that could be a turnoff. Hmm, I needed to be casual and positive.
I thought for a minute, then texted.Not great. I’m dealing with some stuff with my dad.
I cursed my fingers for texting that. It was neither casual nor positive. After a full minute when he still hadn’t answered, I was getting jumpy. I turned my WiFi on and off twice, but still nothing. I shouldn’t have told him my problems. After another minute, I was certifiably crazy. Why wasn’t he writing back? Was he ghosting me?
Finally, he texted.Do you want to meet me here? We could talk.
Which dog park are you at?
The one in Trumbull near the mall.
Okay, I can be there in fifteen minutes.
I thought about getting Theo’s leash, but being a basset hound, he wasn’t the kind of dog that liked the dog park. He didn’t like anything other than eating and sleeping, which I could often relate to. I’d promised myself I’d exercise him more because his basset belly was almost touching the ground, but he was going to have to wait to get in shape.
At the park, Michael was sitting on a bench off to the side next to the jungle gym, where a couple of kids were being pushed on swings by their parents. The rest of the dogs and their owners were in the center of the park. It wasn’t as cold today as it had been, so most of the people had on sweaters and scarves but no jackets. As I walked down the hill from the parking lot, a Pit bull running away from a tiny yapping Maltese almost knocked me over. No one rescued the pit bull; everyone was busy socializing, their canine children left to their own devices.
Michael was leaning down and petting a chocolate lab that looked to be about six months old. “Hey,” I said and sat down next to him. “She’s so cute. What’s her name?”
“Jennifer Lopez. I like to name my dogs after celebrities. Unfortunately, Matt Damon passed away last year.”
“Hey, sweetheart, you’re such a pretty girl,” I said as I reached down to pet her. She jumped up on the bench and started licking me all over my neck. I’d finally found something to calm my nerves.
“No, J. Lo.” Michael pulled her back down. “Sorry, I’m still training her.”
“It’s fine. I love dogs, and she’s adorable.” A French bulldog hobbled by, as bulldogs are known to do, and J. Lo leapt completely over me and ran off to play with it.
“So, what’s going on with your dad?” he asked.
“He was diagnosed with dementia.”
“I thought he had Parkinson’s.”
“It’s complicated.” I wished J. Lo would come back, because petting her made me feel better.
“I had no idea things were so bad,” he said.
“My dad’s been so depressed lately. What’s going to happen when he finds out he has dementia? My brother said at some point he’s not going to recognize any of us. It’s terrifying.” My voice cracked. “I’m not handling it well. I don’t know how I’ll ever get over it.”
“It’s a lot to take in,” he said.
I paused. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be burdening you with all my stuff.”
“I wish there was something I could do to help.”
“Just talking to you helps.” J. Lo bounded over to a woman near us and jumped up on her back. The woman laughed and turned around and started petting J. Lo. She had no clue that J. Lo had left a large brown mud stain on the back of her white pants. Michael didn’t see it, and I looked away, pretending I didn’t either. J. Lo ran back to us and started barking.
“That means she’s ready to go, we’ve been here a while,” he said. “But if you want, I can put her in the car, and we can talk longer.”
“Thanks, but I should get home anyway.”
Michael put the leash on J. Lo, and we walked to our cars. He put her in his back seat, attaching a special seat belt to her leash. “I feel bad leaving you like this.” He moved toward me and enveloped me in a hug. A hug so caring, so empathetic. “Text me later and let me know how you’re doing.” His arms were so strong that even if I got dementia, I knew I’d remember this feeling.
DAD
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