Who’s a Good Boy: Dog in This Fight #1 Read online

Thread by thread I detached the vague idea of being with Hazel from my mind, before it could find a home there. That was the very definition of a stupid idea. Untouchable princesses were… well… fucking untouchable.

  “I really am sorry, I’m not like… I don’t…”

  “Yeah. Sure. Chopper!” I called.

  For the first time in the last ten minutes, Chopper listened to me and wriggled to his feet, following me as I backed away. This was a mistake, a little glitch in the universe that made our paths cross.

  If I was right, then today was the last day of school. She’d be going to whatever university she wanted, her parents would make sure of that, and that would be it. I spent my whole life up to now only ever seeing her from a distance at best. That was probably how the rest of my life would go too.

  Mommy Needs Some Sleep, OK?

  Hazel - After

  “If an alien was looking down at us right now, who do you think they would think was the boss here?” I asked.

  From her bike seat, Sienna looked ahead to the mid-sized mish-mash of who-knew-what that was our dog, straining ahead but held back by the leash attached to the handlebars. Next, she turned around to me, as I carried all the paraphernalia that two four-year-olds of the canine and human variety needed, being dragged by the tall handle attached to the back of the bike and waiting for somebody to poop on somebody else’s lawn so I could clean it up.

  “Molly’s the boss! Maybe the alien.”

  I laughed. “Good thinking, kiddo. Feeling sleepy?”

  “Nope.”

  She had mostly grown out of her afternoon naps now, but hey, a single mom could dream, right? Sometimes after a good hard play, maybe combined with a ride in the car afterwards, the sleep fairy still paid Sienna a visit. I had to admit, I’d grown accustomed to the afternoon naps and I was having a harder time letting go of them than Sienna.

  We arrived at our gate and I stepped forward, keeping a hold of Sienna’s bike until I could untie Molly, just in case. With my other hand, I lifted the gate and propped it up with the top of my foot on the same side to stop it from dragging along the ground or falling off.

  “Why isn’t it fixed?” asked Sienna.

  “I don’t know. The landlord said somebody would come today.” We’d delayed our trip to the playground all morning based on that. “In you go.”

  Sienna stuck her tongue out and got the bike going, with a daredevil look on her face as the front wheel dropped the inch or so down over the drop from the sidewalk to the path to our front door. The trainer wheels kept her upright as they passed over the same drop and she went to the side of the front door to park while I closed the gate.

  It was no doubt too early in the day (and year) to see if a big Thanksgiving dinner could work its magic, but maybe a little snack and a story would make Sienna’s eyelids feel as heavy as mine. If not, then I had some entertaining to do.

  Sienna took off her helmet and hung it on the handlebar before running her fingers through her hair and fluffing it out like the woman on her favorite shampoo commercial. Her hair was even blonder than mine had been at that age.

  I let Molly off the leash and she ran over to Sienna, with me a few steps behind as I dug out the keys. Molly licked Sienna’s hands and the sound of her laughter gave me a little top up in the ol’ Mom fuel tanks.

  When Sienna looked up at me and smiled, my heart was wrenched in two different directions, as always. My hair, my face-shape, my nose… even my laugh more or less, but my eyes were blue and Sienna’s were green like a cat. Her father may have loved dogs, but he had those cat eyes too.

  I returned her smile and hoped she didn’t get any sense of the conflict inside me. What kind of mother would I be if Sienna ever thought that her smile, her happiness, ever brought me anything but joy? I couldn’t live with myself, but every time she looked at me with those eyes, it was a reminder of who wasn’t looking at me with those eyes. Not anymore, not ever again. Why did the best thing in my life have to hurt too?

  The two of them pushed past me on either side as I opened the door, Molly running around to sniff everything and Sienna making sure her stuffed animals were where she left them, eating plastic pizza and drinking tea at their table. I shrugged off the bag and rubbed my shoulder.

  “Snack?”

  “Yes!”

  “Yes what?”

  “Yes please.”

  “OK.”

  I put together a selection of sliced fruit and crackers on a plate and brought it over with a bottle of water to the table with the stuffed animals. Sienna pulled up a little plastic chair, she was barely small enough to still sit at this table.

  “I want pizza,” said Sienna.

  “Of course you do.”

  “So can I have it?”

  I brought one hand up to stroke my chin as I folded the other arm behind my back and paced back and forth as if seriously considering it. Sienna giggled at the charade.

  “Hmmm! Let me think! Such a good question! I think the answer is… no!”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not pizza o’clock.”

  “When is it pizza o’clock?”

  “Maybe sometime this weekend. Right now, it’s healthy snack o’clock.”

  Sienna pointed at the stuffed stegosaurus with a slice of pepperoni pizza on her plate. “They’re having pizza though.”

  “Yeah, but they’re fully grown, you’re still getting bigger and your body needs all the good stuff so you can grow big and strong enough to ride your bike up a mountain. Got it?”

  “I guess.”

  “Alright, eat up, I’m just gonna go find a story to read to you afterwards.”

  “Yeah!”

  I went to the kitchen to throw away the fruit skins and tidy up a little. Sienna’s voice floated out of the living room.

  “Mommy, I thought you were finding a story?”

  “Just tidying up first, I’ll have it before you’re done.”

  “OK.”

  Molly slurped up some water from her bowl by the back door and then army-crawled under the chairs at the kitchen table to her favorite spot. To be honest, I felt like crawling under there myself, maybe using her as a pillow.

  Instead, I went upstairs to Sienna’s room, as she told her stuffed friends what she’d done at the playground, and plastic plates and cups clattered on the table. Sitting down on the floor in front of her bookshelf, I ran my finger along the spines until I settled on one we hadn’t read in a while, a spinoff story from The LEGO Movie, featuring Wyldstyle.

  Sienna had been surprisingly upset the first time we read it, about how she didn’t have the same color hair as Wyldstyle. I let her have a hyper-pink streak through hers using some special chalk. That had smoothed things over.

  By the time I returned to the living room, Sienna’s plate was almost cleared except for a slice of plastic pizza. One of the bears had a cracker on his plate, so clearly a trade had been negotiated at some point.

  “Can I have more?” she asked.

  “No, sorry.”

  “Why?”

  “We’re going to visit Gramma and Grampa for dinner tonight, I don’t want you to spoil your appetite.”

  “I don’t wanna go.”

  “It’s already arranged, sorry Sienna-Bear.”

  Before the pout could truly take hold of her face, I held up the book and waved it. “Yes?”

  “Yes please!”

  “OK. Take your plate to the kitchen, go to the bathroom, wash your hands and meet me in your room. We’ll snuggle up on your bed to read.”

  I took her bottle of water up to her room and put it on her bedside table, listening to her little footsteps scamper around the house. The book was open and I was ready to go by the time she crawled onto her bed with me.

  “Love you, Sienna.”

  “Love you too.”

  I kissed the top of her head and began reading, but reading in the slowest and calmest voice I could manage. Whether or not the voice and story were working
on Sienna, they were definitely working on me. I could barely keep my eyes open as I finished the last page.

  As I closed the book and carefully reached off the side of the bed to put it on the floor, Sienna didn’t react at all. I stole a glance down at her and saw her eyes were closed.

  She looked so peaceful. I considered moving to my own room, but decided that was too risky and would cost too much energy. We could simply take this nap together and in an hour or so we could play something before getting ready to leave.

  Images of myself as a LEGO character were just starting to drift through my mind when the unmistakable sound of our gate creaking open cut through the forming dream. My eyes snapped open.

  No. Not now.

  I’d been plagued by people trying to get me to switch electricity companies lately. I never would have guessed there were so many options before the last couple of months.

  Like a ninja running behind schedule, I carefully eased myself off Sienna’s bed and raced silently out of the room and down the stairs. I had to get to the door before they knocked.

  Tears were on the verge of forming in my eyes at the thought of how close I was to a little break. I opened the door at the same time as the first knock and saw somebody I wanted to see even less than a door-to-door salesman.

  “There’s my girl,” said James, stepping forward as if I’d already stepped aside for him.

  “Shhhh! Sienna just got to sleep.”

  “Well I guess you better not make me shout through the door then, huh?” he said, louder than he needed to.

  “OK, OK.” I let him in and closed the door behind him. “What do you want?”

  “That tone out of your voice for a start. Just swingin’ by to let you know I’m heading out of town for a couple weeks. My dad’s set up some meetings, we’re looking to expand distribution of our brands. Oh, sorry, I heard things aren’t going so well for your parents.”

  I’d never heard anybody less sorry than him. “Yeah, well…”

  “Anyway, you know what you can do about that. Thought you might wanna give me a little kiss before I go. Maybe a little more.”

  “No,” I whispered, still holding on to some hope that Sienna wouldn’t wake up.

  James advanced on me and I backed away until I was pressed against the wall at the bottom of the stairs. He looked at me the way a cruel boy with a magnifying glass might look at an ant.

  “You know how I love it when you play hard to get.”

  “Please go.”

  He didn’t go. He pinned me against the wall and reached for my breast. I covered myself and tried to fend him away as quietly as possible.

  “Stop,” I pleaded.

  James ran out of patience and punched me in the stomach as fast as lightning. All the air whooshed out of me with a groan and my hands clutched my belly, clearing the way for James to grope my chest to his heart’s content as he continued to prop me up on my feet.

  “There’s a good girl, I might miss my flight for you.”

  A sound from the top of the stairs drew James’ attention for a moment. I looked around and saw Sienna up there, clinging on to the railing.

  “Hi Sienna, head back to bed, OK?” said James.

  She didn’t move or say a word.

  “Please go,” I wheezed.

  James looked back and forth between the two of us with narrowed eyes. “Ffffff… fine. You need to teach that girl some manners, Hazel.” He paused for a moment, then whispered to me. “You know, a part of me hopes you still say no like this after we’re married.”

  James let himself out, ripping off another small piece of me to take with him. I didn’t know how many more pieces were left. Not many.

  I sank to the ground, facing away from the stairs and trying to wipe the tears from my eyes in the few moments I had before Sienna came down.

  “Mommy?”

  I swallowed hard and turned around with the best smile I could manage. “Hey sweetie, sorry we woke you.”

  “I wasn’t asleep. Are you OK?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. Can I have a hug?”

  Sienna wrapped her arms around my neck. I heard a noise in the kitchen and saw Molly army-crawling halfway out from under the kitchen table. Her ears were laid flat against her head and I could hear her tail swishing hopefully against the chair legs.

  “Come on, Molly, you too.”

  The mix-breed came over to join the cuddle party.

  “You’re a lover, not a fighter, huh, Molly?” I scratched behind her ear.

  “What’s that mean?” asked Sienna.

  “Never mind, nothing important.”

  Sienna sat next to me and pet Molly for a while, before looking up. “Is he my daddy?”

  “No! Who told you that?”

  “Max.”

  “Who’s Max?”

  “Max in my playgroup.”

  “Well… who told him that? Who are his mommy and daddy?” I asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Um… no. James isn’t your daddy.”

  “Who is?”

  I sighed. No matter how many years I had to prepare for this question, no matter how certain I was that it was coming, I didn’t have a good answer that wouldn’t break her heart. Maybe I never would, but I couldn’t face it right now.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Hey, want another story?”

  “Um… nah. Let’s play pirates and princesses!” Sienna raced for her box of dress-up outfits.

  I swallowed hard again and started conjuring up my best pirate accent.

  What Would a Good Mother Do?

  Hazel - After

  When I pulled up in front of my parents’ house, you would never have known there was trouble in paradise. The grounds were immaculate, as if there was a guy working full time with a pair of scissors in case any blade of grass or leaf forgot its place. The fountain in the middle of the turning circle flowed bright and clean, just as it had my entire life.

  “Here we are,” I said.

  “Wait, I’m not done.”

  Sienna was carefully coloring mostly inside the lines on a color by numbers page in her activity book. Ordinarily, I’d have said to finish it later, but I couldn’t deny I wanted to delay the inevitable myself. She was done after only a minute or so anyway, and we headed to the front door.

  I pressed the doorbell and waited. When my mom answered the door, it was the first outward sign that things were not what they once were. Eugene, the butler they’d employed since before I was born was not here to greet the guests.

  “Sienna-Bear!” my mom cried, bending down with her arms open.

  “Yay Gramma!”

  My mom straightened up and her knees popped. “Oh, goodness, you’re getting so big!” She held out one arm to me so we made a kind of standing Sienna-sandwich. “Good to see you, my girls.”

  I took a deep breath and let myself melt into the hug as I exhaled, taking the love and affection that was honestly given, though it was always wrapped in certain… conditions.

  “Good to see you too, Mom.”

  We stepped back and she gave me a head-to-toe scan. “You look a little pale, are you eating enough?”

  “Yes, we’re doing fine. I think I might be coming down with something though. One of the kids at Sienna’s playgroup sneezed pretty much right in my face when I was picking her up on Monday.”

  “Oh, they should keep their kids at home if they’re sick.”

  “Yeah, but honestly it’s happened so many times now that I think if Sienna had a cold I’d be like, ‘Welp, have a good day at playgroup.’ You know?”

  “I guess so, yeah.”

  “We’re starving tonight though,” I said.

  “Well, let’s all hope we can do something about that. No guarantees, your father is cooking tonight.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Dad? Is cooking?”

  The only time I could remember that happening before had resulted in the fire extinguish
er in the kitchen needing to be refilled.

  “Yes.”

  “Dad?”

  “Look, Gramma, I colored this,” said Sienna.

  “He insisted. Oof, Sienna, you’re going to have to go down now to show me, Gramma can’t hold you up anymore.”

  Sienna slid to the ground, activity book opened to the colored page and held up for her Gramma.

  “Wow, such good work! Are you going to be an artist when you grow up?”

  “Yes.” There was no doubt in her voice.

  “Well, I think you’ll be a good one.”

  My eyes narrowed for a moment. When I was Sienna’s age, what I wanted to be never mattered. I was supposed to learn all about the wine industry so I could take over the family business when the time came. Something told me this support for Sienna’s choice wasn’t as innocent as it appeared.

  “Are we early for dinner?” I asked.

  “He said it would be ready now. I… uh… don’t know what time that really means.”

  Sienna raced ahead with her activity book and led us into the dining room, pushing the kitchen door open and peeking through.

  “Grampa, I’m here!”

  Through the door I could see pure kitchen chaos. Pots and pans were stacked haphazardly all over the place, a smear of red on the floor as if my dad had stomped a mouse stood out on the slate tiles next to the chopped end of a carrot. My dad was a flustered mess in the middle of it all.

  “Sienna! Hi there! Stay back, there’s lots of hot stuff and mess over here. Hi Hazel!”

  “Hi Dad,” I called.

  A dinner of spaghetti Bolognese was ready shortly afterwards, and to his credit, it was far from the worst thing I’d ever tasted. Maybe he’d been watching some YouTube videos or something. I served up Sienna the least clumped-together strands of pasta and cut it all up so the pieces would be short and she wouldn’t make the dining room floor look like the kitchen floor while trying to twirl it up around her fork.

  We joked and laughed about the mess my dad had made, and I felt my guard slowly coming down. When he told me he’d had the fire extinguisher ready next to the stove the whole time, I laughed so much my stomach hurt in a way so much better than when James punched me. I wished I could feel like this all the time.