Page 79 of Story of My Life
“I don’t know what this is. Are you allowed to do that?”
Melvin’s tail continued to wag as he slid one of his front paws down the inside of the tub.
“Oh, buddy. Hang on. You’re going to get…stuck.”
The dog’s furry middle was draped over the lip of the tub, his back feet off the ground, his front not quite touching the porcelain bottom.
He whimpered pathetically.
“I don’t know how to help. Do you want in or out? If you get in, how am I going to get you out?”
Melvin made the decision for me by sliding down the inside of the tub feet first until they hit bottom. He started lapping up the water around the drain with his hips and hind legs still hanging over the edge.
“I’m just going to…help you,” I said through gritted teeth as I tried to heft the dog’s back end up and over. But he was heavy and the tub was too tall. “What do you eat for breakfast? Bowling balls?”
Unperturbed, Melvin continued to slurp up the tub water.
“Okay, let’s think.”
It took me a few minutes and several contingency plans. But I finally crawled under the dog’s rear legs, giving him purchase on my towel-clad back, and slowly lifted him until he awkwardly scrambled over the side.
“And now I’m all sweaty. I can’t believe I wasted a shower already,” I grumbled.
Melvin heaved a blissful sigh and flopped down in the bottom of the tub. I peeked over the edge at him. His tail was a thumping metronome against the cast iron in his new horizontal position, damp fur already curling.
Turning my back on tub and dog, I decided to put forth a little effort in the makeup department since I’d made such a lousy first impression. I tidied up my cosmetics and then pondered an outfit that was comfortable but not slovenly. I was absolutely procrastinating. What if the words didn’t come today? I might go downstairs and Cam would say, “Yeah, about that whole research-dating thing. I’m out because you’re gross.” What if I just stayed put in this room with this tub dog and didn’t face anything ever again?
I looked at my reflection in the mirror. Yeah, I’d already tried that avenue as Dead Inside Hazel. This was New Adventure Hazel, and I had responsibilities, deadlines, a dog trapped in my tub… Hmm. I glanced at Melvin again. He’d tired of drinking and had rolled over onto his back in blissful hydration. If the heroine was wrapped in a towel… No! A shower curtain. And the handsome, heroic contractor had to come to her rescue, that could be…something.
I was sittingon the closed lid of the toilet, typing away on my laptop with my towel still tucked under my arms, when my phone signaled a text. I stretched my arms overhead and rolled out my shoulders. A loud snore echoed from the bathtub. How long had I been sitting here? I glanced down at the word count and blinked.
“Holy shit,” I murmured.
My phone rang from the toilet tank, sparking a frantic bout of barking.
“Hello?” I shouted over the dog’s hysteria.
“Finally, she answers,” trilled the cultured voice of Ramona Hart-Daflure-Whatever-Her-Current-Hyphenation. She’d trained the Alabama out of her voice between husbands two and three.
“Hi, Mom,” I said, between Melvin’s desperate barks.
“What on earth is that noise? It sounds like you’re at a dogfight.”
I tried to soothe the wet dog with my hands, but Melvin seemed hell-bent on scrabbling his way out of the tub. “No dogfight here,” I said, climbing into the tub. “Relax, buddy! You’re fine! You fell asleep in my shower, remember?”
“Oh my. Am I interrupting?” she asked gleefully.
“Not what you think you are.”
“You sound down, darling.”
“I’m fine. I’m just wrestling a soaking-wet hundred-pound canine,” I explained, trying to get Melvin into a friendly headlock without losing towel or phone.
“Well, I’ve got news that will turn that frown upside down. I’m engaged! Isn’t that exciting?”
“Congratulations,” I said through gritted teeth as I managed to pin Melvin to the floor of the tub. My mother traded in husbands the way other people traded in cars.
“He’s the mostamazingman. He’s tall and handsome and tan. He has the most beautiful home in Parisanda six-bedroom mansion across the street from Robert Downey Junior. He’sthe one.” All six of Mom’s previous husbands had also been “the one.”
