Page 41 of The Goode Girls of Maple Lane
Everett’s lips press together as he gives me a look that suggests I should be able to figure this one out on my own, which I do, with a pat of my mussed hair and a glance at our rumpled clothes. Everett’s lips are also swollen, his curls are especially disarrayed, and I didn’t take the time this morning to cover the bruises he left on my neck. In other circumstances I might be embarrassed. Instead, all I can do is smile. I trust what I’m building with Everett. I’m proud ofit. And despite my continued wonder about how I got here, I intend to enjoy the hell out of it.
FOR THE NEXTten days, I find myself suppressing unexpected smiles that threaten to take over my entire face during random moments at work, in classes, and on dog walks. It sounds so cliché even in my mind, but I swear, colors seem brighter. Smells seem sweeter. I’m weirdly inclined to laugh at things that are only mildly funny. I even talk to strangers.On purpose.I’ve spent the last few years desperately, ineffectively trying to talk myself into wanting to engage with the world, and now, without any of the effort that used to exhaust and demoralize me, I not only want to engage with the world, I feel like the world wants to engage with me.
I sit up straight in classes, taking copious notes on biopsies and cytology with renewed interest in my chosen field. I sell $600 sheet sets like I truly believe no one should settle for less than thousand-thread-count cotton. I spend extra time outside with Aggie. I splurge on tea and baked goods so I can visit Diana and Johann. I do all of my laundry and not just whatever load gets me by for another week. I hum like a Disney Princess during my cleaning job, which is especially strange because I’m still listening to veterinary podcasts and not to music.
Perhaps the most significant evidence that I’m under a twinkly love spell arrives when my mom texts to ensure I follow her TikTok account, where she’s proudly posted her first video, which is twenty seconds of soft-hued stock sunrise footage with the phrasePositive vibes only!superimposed in a scrolling white font. I’ve avoided directly engaging with her social media content for as long as I can remember, but I don’t even hesitate. I go ahead and follow her.
The day before Thanksgiving, I take Aggie to Ruff ’n’ Rescue for a weigh-in and to show Sam and Sariah how she’s getting up on her own now and shuffle-walking several steps without support, even though I keep her harness on and stay by her side to grab the handle as needed. We record her weight at a hundred and seven pounds, down five from her last weigh-in, and eighteen pounds total over nine weeks. While she still has a way to go, I’m wildly proud of her.
“Think we can aim for double digits by the end of the year?” Sam asks.
I crouch in front of Aggie and stroke her supersoft ears in the way I know she likes best.
“What do you think?” I ask her. “Do I tell them you’re a magical, special, celestial being who can do anything you set your mind to, or do you prefer to err on the side of modesty?”
She licks my face and lets out a single, happy bark.
“We’ll take that as a yes about the double digits,” Sariah says.
“And also about how special she is,” Sam adds.
Before I leave, we talk about the possibility of pursuing the hydrotherapy people keep encouraging in the comments on our TikTok account. It would definitely be good for her, once she builds more stamina. She’s walking more and more on her own as the weeks pass, but her joints are overstressed from the weight she’s been carrying and her steps are still quite wobbly. I’d love to see her run one day,reallyrun, the way Marmie used to, flying after the balls I threw no matter how badly I aimed them. Unfortunately, I already researched hydrotherapy, and it costs about $130 for an initial assessment, and $80 for every thirty minutes after that. It’s way outside my budget and also halfway across town, so I’m not even sure I could fit in the time.
“You could crowdsource it,” Sam suggests. “I bet her followers would chip in.”
“They totally would!” Sariah agrees. “You’d have that money in no time.”
I nod, still petting Aggie’s ears, though more for my comfort now than for hers.
This is where I get squirmy. I know Sam and Sariah are right. I also know Everett agrees with them. He’s trying so hard to honor my request to not talk about monetizing the account, but when we were looking at it together a few days ago, stunned that it has almost fifty thousand followers now, he asked if I’d considered hydrotherapy. I said yes but I couldn’t afford it. He gotveryquiet, chewing on the inside of his cheek until I put him out of his misery and told him I knew what he was thinking but I needed more time to think about it, myself. I had a hard enough time accepting a few free tins of tea or letting Everett treat me to a nice dinner. Asking strangers to pay for my dog’s health care by turning a public space about her joyful, authentic, unfiltered journey into a fundraising mechanism? Or using that space to hawk products like I do on the weekends at Loden and Linden? None of it sits right. Even though I wish it did.
As I leave R ’n’ R with Aggie in her wagon, my phone pings with a text.
EVERETT:Hear me out. Orphans’ Thanksgiving at my place tomorrow
CAMERON:How many orphans do you know?!
EVERETT:It’s a turn of phrase for anyone without a place to go
I frown at my phone, feeling like this is something I should know, especially since I’ve spent every Thanksgiving since I started college without a place to go. Hannah always called, but otherwise I just hung out in my dorm room—or last year, my apartment—with a single-serving frozen meal I could pop in a microwave. Sometimes I treated myself to a slice of pumpkin pie, always eyeing the whole pies with a quiet longing. Now that I know people host special dinners for loners like me, my early adulthood looks even bleaker than I thought.
CAMERON:It’s so last-minute. Would anyone come?
EVERETT:3 of my coworkers don’t have plans. So there’d be at least 5 of us
EVERETT:Sorry. 6 of us. Don’t tell Aggie
CAMERON:I wouldn’t dream of tainting her idolization
I consider his idea. I’ve been looking forward to having a little more time with him and Aggie over the holiday break with no classes to attend or cleaning shift on Thursday. I haven’t met any of his coworkers yet, and while I’d like to, I’m not sure I want tosacrifice the precious hours we have alone together for hours spent talking to strangers. However...
CAMERON:Can I invite our neighbors?
EVERETT:Of course. Maybe Khalil can make us a robot turkey
CAMERON:Overnight??
EVERETT:I wouldn’t put it past him
