‘What have you done? Are you insane?’ Henry is furious. Melissa’s husband is usually mild-mannered to a fault. ‘What about your long hours? Who’s going to take care of it?’
The puppy, the cause of Henry’s consternation, has wiggled out of her arms and is bounding around the rug. Floppy ears, tan-coloured fluffy coat, brown human-like eyes. From the corner of his vision, he catches sight of the tip of his tail, and barks. Melissa laughs. He lunges, trying to catch it, resulting in circles of dizzying speed. It’s hilarious and adorable but Henry is too busy ranting to notice.
‘It will ruin the apartment. Chew everything it can get its teeth into. Pee on your carpet.’
The puppy has had a few ‘accidents’ since she brought him home yesterday. On the tiles, luckily, and easy enough to clean up.
‘Why didn’t you consult me?’ Henry whines.
Finally, she deigns to answer him. ‘You don’t even live here. Why on earth would I consult you?’
He is visibly hurt and she feels guilty. The idea of the puppy was to bring joy and some welcome unpredictability, not to be the cause of more arguments.
She tries to explain further. ‘Look, Cassie’s friend is a breeder. Someone was due to buy PJ.’ This is what she decided to name the dog after making a long list of potential names and trying them out as the puppy darted around her feet last night. ‘They’d paid a deposit, but there was an illness in the family and they couldn’t take him after all.’
‘Buy why should you need to be involved? Doesn’t the breeder have a waiting list?’
‘Because Cassie thought I needed a dog.’
‘How is Cassie such an expert on what you need? Last time I checked, she was in human resources, not psychology.’
It’s tempting to answer his sarcasm with more of her own. She tries honesty instead. ‘Cassie’s my friend, she knows how much I’ve been struggling ... I need something to change, Henry. And this is definitely outside my comfort zone.’
‘You’re not even a dog person,’ he points out.
True. Melissa has never been one to seek out dogs for cuddles. But there has been a loneliness in her life, an emptiness, and something living and breathing – and furry – seemed like a way to fill it. Definitely better than re-establishing a relationship with Jarrod Harris. Their messages have progressed from brief and jokey to lengthy and more serious. Jarrod has indicated that things are tough at home. Melissa admitted that she and Henry are at a crossroads. She hasn’t answered Jarrod’s last message, a text sent two days ago: Want to meet up for a drink?
‘Jesus Christ, he’s peeing on your floor.’
This is also true, Melissa establishes as she follows Henry’s horrified gaze.
‘It’s no big deal. I just lift him up when he does that and take him outside to the loo.’
Melissa scoops up the dog, holding him in front of her so she doesn’t get caught by the wee.
‘You’re leaving a trail,’ Henry points out unhelpfully.
‘Clean it up, then.’
Out on the balcony, Melissa deposits PJ on the ‘loo’ (a piece of synthetic grass on top of a waste container) even though they both know there is nothing left to come out. He gives her hand a lick. She gives his head a scratch.
‘Henry is not normally so cranky,’ she says. ‘You need to give him time.’
Henry, when they go back inside, is making a show of cleaning up, using paper towel, disinfectant and lots of muttered swear words. Melissa smiles. There is something very normal about the scene. It has to be said that having her husband irritated and put out is so much better than having him contained and distant.
‘Morning, Samantha ...’ Melissa has been up for hours when she calls her personal assistant. PJ woke her at 5 a.m. – an improvement on yesterday morning – crying to get out of his crate. She took him straight outside to the loo, and he actually did a wee; she felt inordinately proud of him. Then she played with him, fed him and cleaned the crate before putting him back inside for another nap.
‘How’s PJ doing?’ Samantha coos on the other end of the line.
‘Oh, he’s wonderful. He did a wee in the pet loo this morning.’ Melissa cannot believe she just said that.
‘What a clever boy ... When are you going to send photos?’
‘I have hundreds already but most are out of focus. Trying to keep him still is harder than getting Pharma Direct to sign on the dotted line.’ Pharma Direct is one of her most difficult clients, which brings her back to the reason for her call. ‘Look, I’m going to work from home again today. He’s so tiny, I just can’t leave him alone all day.’
It’s a dog, not a child, but who would have thought it would be so hard to leave him? If only her working day wasn’t so unforgivingly long. If only the office was closer, and she could duck home for playtime and toilet breaks.
Melissa works solidly for the next few hours. Her doorbell buzzes in the early afternoon. She checks the video screen, which is part of the security system, and is surprised to see a group of schoolgirls gathered outside the main door of the building.
‘Can I help you?’ she enquires into the intercom.
One of them steps forward. Tucks her hair awkwardly behind one ear. Melissa realises it’s Tessa, Henry’s daughter.
‘Err ... I was wondering if I could see the puppy.’
Melissa buzzes them in. She can’t remember the last time Tessa was here. Not since the early days with Henry, before they decided to get married and the battle lines were drawn. The same applies for Christopher, her brother.
Tessa and her friends tumble through the door, their hair in ponytails, their faces soft and unknowingly gorgeous. Melissa is sharply reminded of her own school years.
‘Sorry,’ Tessa says breathlessly. ‘I wanted to see the puppy, and then everyone else invited themselves along. We have a free period ... Oh my God. Look at him. He is so cute. Can I hold him?’
‘Sure.’ Melissa hands over the squirming ball of fur.
PJ is passed from arm to arm and clucked over like a newborn baby. With a strange out-of-body feeling – maybe getting up at the crack of dawn is taking its toll – Melissa puts some chocolate-chip cookies on a plate. She recently read something about food being a sure-fire way to impress teenagers. She suspects it’s not that simple.
The girls devour the biscuits and Melissa puts out some more. In the meantime, PJ manages to escape their arms, jumping down and launching into his party trick: a spot of tail chasing before running around the place at top speed.
‘Oh look, he has the zooms,’ says one the girls.
Round and round he goes. Up on the couch. Vaulting over the back. Skidding round the kitchen island. The girls are laughing hysterically and half-heartedly trying to catch him. It seems that pets work just as well as food when it comes to dismantling teenage cynicism.
‘Tessa,’ Melissa says quietly amid all the shrieking and laughing.
‘What?’ Ah, there’s the suspicion and negativity she knows of old.
‘I need someone to check on PJ during the day, while I’m at work.’
Tessa’s face is deadpan. She doesn’t give much away. She should think about a career in law.
‘I’m willing to pay,’ Melissa adds, aiming to sound matter-of-fact rather than needy.
The school is within walking distance. Tessa is a senior student and allowed to leave the premises at lunchtime and during free periods.
‘How much?’
‘Fifteen dollars a visit ... That’s seventy-five a week.’
Tessa’s eyes – her lashes spiky with mascara that’s surely against school rules? – narrow as she weighs it up. It’s easy money and if it were anyone else making the offer, they both know she would snap it up. Melissa is left with the sense that she’s shown her hand too soon. She should have waited. Her intuition, which is perfect when dealing with difficult clients, has consistently let her down when it comes to Henry’s children.
‘Okay,’ Tessa says slowly. ‘But only if my friends can come too.’
‘Of course,’ Melissa agrees, struggling to disguise how pleased she is. ‘That goes without saying.’
Melissa works for another few hours after the girls leave. Then she attempts another photo shoot.
‘Good boy ... Now look this way.’
PJ looks everywhere but the camera. Nevertheless, she proudly sends the blurry photos to Samantha, Cassie and Henry.
After dinner, she watches TV with PJ’s warm body curled up in her lap. She’s bemused that she already loves this puppy so completely and uncomplicatedly. It’s starting to get dark outside. She moves him to the rug and goes around the apartment, pulling shut the blinds, something she was never pedantic about before. She hasn’t been able to shake the feeling that someone has been watching her apartment, cataloguing Henry’s visits, connecting the dots of her private life.
‘How are you at being a guard dog?’ she asks as she carries PJ to his crate.
Pretty useless, going by his enthusiastic response to today’s visitors. But for some reason, his very presence makes her feel considerably less alone and vulnerable.
‘Night night,’ she says, giving him one last cuddle.
Time for bed for Melissa too. It has been an extremely long day. Tomorrow will be another early start. But there is one more thing to do, to close out. She owes Jarrod an answer to his question.
Want to meet up for a drink?
What to say? How to say it? She scrolls through the photos she took earlier, selects a particularly cute one and forwards it to him.
Sorry I haven’t been in touch. This is the reason why. His name is PJ.
He has his answer from the delay in her response, as well as the blatant change of subject. It’s a no. It has to be a no. They’re both married, and probably incapable of being platonic with each other.
Satisfied, she removes her jewellery and clothes. She goes for a shower, squeezing her eyes shut under the gushing water, forcing herself to look forward, not back.
Her phone screen is blank when she returns to the bedroom. No response. This is good, this is what she wants.
It’s over. Extinguished. They’ve both heeded the warning signs: dangerous territory, keep back.