it felt great. After all, once upon a time we humans made dates with people, arranged a time in advance and turned up. We couldn’t cancel at the last second and flake-out when a better deal came up. We were responsible people, once. We could spell: see you tonight, not C U 2 nite. We had attention spans of more than five minutes at a go. We painted, sketched, and wrote in notebooks, not just flicked like mindless idiots through our Facebook and HookedUp pages, worrying about what everyone else was doing and living vicariously through them. Yay! I was no longer shackled-down with invisible chains to my social-media addiction!
It was a wonderful feeling, with no cell, to know I was not being spied upon, nor stalked. I felt liberated and brain tumor-free. Most of all, I felt protective of that tiny bundle inside me; not that there was much evidence; no more swelling than a large bowl of pasta or rice wouldn’t do. But there was life within me and it felt incredible, especially as I was so in love with its maker, despite Alexandre being a heartbreaking bastard, I would still love everything about his future offspring . . .
Because deep down inside me (call me a clueless fool), I felt there must have been some mistake . . . he could not be lying to me, he did love me.
Yet, I needed to get a grip—all the evidence was there, clear and sharp as crystal: he still couldn’t give up Laura.
A WEEK PASSED BY. Sneaking off for my secret Rex rendez-vous had become a regular habit. If I couldn’t have Alexandre himself, I could feel close to him through his beloved dog. Today I’d arranged to take Rex alone.
I met Sally at the entrance at Sixty Forth Street, by Central Park Zoo. Rex was there waiting, all excited. Funny how Labradors and Labrador mixes wiggle the middle of their torso when they wag their tails. He was ready for his tour around the park.
I kissed Sally hello and gave her a one hundred dollar bill. “Have a nice breakfast.”
She shook her head; her Cerise-colored pigtails swung in surprise, and her wildly plucked eyebrows that seemed no more than painted curves, shot up. “Pearl, this is way, way too much.”
“I don’t have change,” I lied, wondering if she had caught onto my not-so-subtle bribe. It was good to have Sally on my side, to get snippets of information about Alexandre, know where he was going and when he’d return. “Treat yourself to something delicious. I’ll meet you back here in an hour and a half.”
“Are you going to the Central Park Paws event this morning?”
Only dog-mad Sally could know about such a thing as Central Park Paws. “No,” I answered, “but tell me more, I’m intrigued.”
“Well, Central Park Paws hosts regular events for dog owners in the park. Today is Monthly Bagel Barks—it gives dog owners the chance to meet, talk, and have breakfast while the dogs enjoy some off-leash playtime. It starts in fifteen minutes, until nine o’clock.”
“I’m so sorry, Sally, am I robbing you of your meeting? We can go together if you like.”
She looked at the hundred dollar bill and said, “No, it’s okay, I’ve always wanted to go to the Carlyle for breakfast . . . well, thanks so much, Pearl. Have a nice walk.”
The Carlyle: where Alexandre and I had that dreaded breakfast, when I hadn’t been honest with him about wanting to do a documentary about HookedUp and he lost his temper with me. This was the third time we’d split up, and this time I feared it was for good. It still didn’t make sense. He didn’t strike me as a person who would lie, but the evidence was there: he couldn’t keep away from Laura. She had some kind of emotional hold over him, no matter how in love with me he claimed to be. I wanted him so badly, but this time I needed to keep my resolve.
I waved Sally goodbye, and Rex and I went into the park. It was covered in a blanket of fresh, virgin snow and looked like a fairy tale; the sky a clear, icy blue. Some pale crystal
It was a wonderful feeling, with no cell, to know I was not being spied upon, nor stalked. I felt liberated and brain tumor-free. Most of all, I felt protective of that tiny bundle inside me; not that there was much evidence; no more swelling than a large bowl of pasta or rice wouldn’t do. But there was life within me and it felt incredible, especially as I was so in love with its maker, despite Alexandre being a heartbreaking bastard, I would still love everything about his future offspring . . .
Because deep down inside me (call me a clueless fool), I felt there must have been some mistake . . . he could not be lying to me, he did love me.
Yet, I needed to get a grip—all the evidence was there, clear and sharp as crystal: he still couldn’t give up Laura.
A WEEK PASSED BY. Sneaking off for my secret Rex rendez-vous had become a regular habit. If I couldn’t have Alexandre himself, I could feel close to him through his beloved dog. Today I’d arranged to take Rex alone.
I met Sally at the entrance at Sixty Forth Street, by Central Park Zoo. Rex was there waiting, all excited. Funny how Labradors and Labrador mixes wiggle the middle of their torso when they wag their tails. He was ready for his tour around the park.
I kissed Sally hello and gave her a one hundred dollar bill. “Have a nice breakfast.”
She shook her head; her Cerise-colored pigtails swung in surprise, and her wildly plucked eyebrows that seemed no more than painted curves, shot up. “Pearl, this is way, way too much.”
“I don’t have change,” I lied, wondering if she had caught onto my not-so-subtle bribe. It was good to have Sally on my side, to get snippets of information about Alexandre, know where he was going and when he’d return. “Treat yourself to something delicious. I’ll meet you back here in an hour and a half.”
“Are you going to the Central Park Paws event this morning?”
Only dog-mad Sally could know about such a thing as Central Park Paws. “No,” I answered, “but tell me more, I’m intrigued.”
“Well, Central Park Paws hosts regular events for dog owners in the park. Today is Monthly Bagel Barks—it gives dog owners the chance to meet, talk, and have breakfast while the dogs enjoy some off-leash playtime. It starts in fifteen minutes, until nine o’clock.”
“I’m so sorry, Sally, am I robbing you of your meeting? We can go together if you like.”
She looked at the hundred dollar bill and said, “No, it’s okay, I’ve always wanted to go to the Carlyle for breakfast . . . well, thanks so much, Pearl. Have a nice walk.”
The Carlyle: where Alexandre and I had that dreaded breakfast, when I hadn’t been honest with him about wanting to do a documentary about HookedUp and he lost his temper with me. This was the third time we’d split up, and this time I feared it was for good. It still didn’t make sense. He didn’t strike me as a person who would lie, but the evidence was there: he couldn’t keep away from Laura. She had some kind of emotional hold over him, no matter how in love with me he claimed to be. I wanted him so badly, but this time I needed to keep my resolve.
I waved Sally goodbye, and Rex and I went into the park. It was covered in a blanket of fresh, virgin snow and looked like a fairy tale; the sky a clear, icy blue. Some pale crystal
Similar Books
