“I don’t think CPR is going to work.”
I turned around and saw her kneeling next to him, with his head in her hands and his body stiff.
“Oh my God!”
“Mom, just relax. There’s nothing we could have done.”
“Oh my God. The dog is dead? Is he dead? Are you sure he’s dead?”
She laid his head back on the ground. “Yep. Pretty sure.”
“Oh my God,” I twirled in a circle. “What am I going to tell him?”
“I don’t know. Just call him and tell him.”
“I’m going to text.”
“You can’t text! You have to call him.”
I threw my head back and stomped my foot in defiance. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
I dialed his number and cleared my throat. He answered, half asleep. “Hello?”
“Hi. Did I wake you?”
“Yeah, but what’s up?” And then it happened. The inappropriate laughter syndrome that I inherited from my mother came like a wave over me. It wasn’t funny, trust me, I know. But my nerves and bad luck crept up on me and I couldn’t help it. Between the dishes, the dog poop, hiding from Number 3, and now this, it all boiled over because nothing could be more ridiculous. I covered my laugh up with a cough. “Are you okay?”
“Yes. I’m sorry. Listen. It’s Hunter.”
“What about him?”
“I think he died.”
“What?”
“I’m sorry. He isn’t waking up. Olivia tried. He’s dead.”
“Are you telling me my dog is dead?”
I squeaked out a small “yes.”
“What? Why? How?” He fumbled his words.
“You said not to take him to the vet. That he likes to lie in the snow.”
“He never got up from the snow?”
“No, he did, but he isn’t awake anymore.”
“I’m coming home.”
I took a deep breath. “I will take Chloe to my house. I’m really sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know, but it was on my watch.”
“Just take Chloe. How long do you think we have...I mean, how’s the weather? Do you think we can just leave him there?”
I knew what he was asking. “It’s freezing here.”
“Turn the heat off in case I can’t make it back for a few days.”
“Okay.” I shuttered at the reason why.
Olivia and I pushed the dog beds together so Hunter could lay on the length of them and so his head wasn’t hanging off. She took Chloe and put her in the car. I turned down the heat, said my goodbyes, and locked up. I got halfway home when I realized I was probably going to burst his pipes by not having the heat on a little bit at least. I dropped Olivia and Chloe off at my house and made my way back to his, and by this time the snow was dumping. I pulled my car back down the driveway, trying to stay in the same tracks my car tires had made earlier in the morning. I ran inside, trying to ignore the body as I stepped over it, cringing and feeling horrible at the same time. I turned the heat up slightly and ran back out and went home.
I was exhausted by the time I got there. My nerves were shot. My anxiety had tripled. Olivia was happy to add a big dog in with the two small ones she already had. Chloe was fitting in nicely, but she was old and slow, so she didn’t care about playing with the little dogs and was patient enough to let them run around her feet. She was a sweet dog and was probably getting more love from Olivia than she had in a very long time. I settled down on the couch when my phone dinged.
“I’m on my way home. Be there tomorrow.”
I laid my head back on the couch. All I wanted to do was sleep.
It was almost New Years when he came back and as he walked into my house, I could see the sadness on his face. I felt for him. Chloe went running to him rubbing on his leg, probably wondering where he had been. He hugged Olivia, who at this point, adored him.
“Have you been taking care of my girl?” She nodded and smiled and then skipped her way upstairs, with all the dogs following. We met in the middle of the living room; his eyes were red and swollen, but he said nothing. He reached out and put his arms around me, kissing me on the head. “Thanks for watching Chloe.”
“Of course. Do you want a drink?”
“Yes.”
I poured him a glass of wine. He was a merlot drinker mostly, but he would drink anything and often too much. He loved good tequila, but mostly he loved the best of the best when I was paying the bill. He sat down on the couch and put his feet up, took his hat off, and scratched his head. I handed him his glass and he thanked me as I sat down next to him. He put his free hand on my legs and looked at me straight in the eyes.
“Have you been to the house?” I asked.
“Yes.” He took a sip. “I saw him.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“I’m really sad.”
“I’m sure you are.”
He scooted closer to me and laid his head on my lap and promptly fell asleep.
The next morning, we left Chloe in the capable hands of Olivia while Joe and I went and scooped up Hunter to take him to the vet. We stood at the counter and picked the urn, and when it came to time to pay, he again had to run to the bathroom. I picked up the bill and when he came out, he assured me he was going to take care of it. I told him it was okay. Maybe it was my guilt, I don’t know.
He stayed with me that night and the next and next until New Year’s Eve when we had friends over and enjoyed a night of food and drinks and games. We were a couple again. We were happy. We had bonded over the trauma. It was almost like everything was blissfully normal.
Almost.
Your worst nightmare
January was strangely uneventful. He stayed at my house often and started a Sunday evening “fro-yo” night with Olivia. They hit up the different frozen yogurt shops and then rated them, with little grading sheets and all. Sometimes I was invited. Sometimes it was just them. Sometimes he let her drive with her permit. But no matter how they got there, they both enjoyed the time together, being silly and creating what they thought would be a lifetime of memories. Everything was moving ahead, and it was almost frightening how smoothly things were going. He was “love bombing” me again – sending me sweet texts and calling me at every turn. He was interested in my life again and took great care in listening and asking questions and feigning concern for Olivia as she was growing up fast. Chloe was becoming a permanent fixture in my home. Everything I had dreamed our relationship could be was coming true.
So, it didn’t alarm me when he mentioned that he was going to a work party that coming Saturday night. He had to work during the day and he said that as soon as he got off, he was going to swing by the party that was being held in place of an official Christmas party.
“I am literally going there, shaking some hands and leaving, otherwise I would have you meet me.”
“Okay.”
“I’m not sure what time I am getting off though. It might be like 8:00 before I even get there.”
“Okay. I am probably going to meet Jen for dinner then.”
I honestly didn’t think much of it. I really didn’t. Call me stupid if you want. I am sure you have. But, like so many other psychopaths, he was hypnotizing to me. He had dangled this carrot in front of me for so long that when he started giving me this sweet part of him, I grabbed it and did not want to let it go. And, because it had taken so long to get this part, and because there had always felt like there was so much resistance to fully commit, that when he did – it was like everything had come full circle.