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ten
Clementine’s pen moved over the page of a black-and-white composition book while Tabitha applied pressure along the soles of her feet. She wrote with the fluid, determined strokes of someone who’d done a lot of writing by hand. She paused and peeked over the top of the journal. “That’s perfect, what you’re doing right there. Give more pressure than you think. You aren’t going to hurt me. And trust me, my feet are sore.”
“No erection, then?” Tabitha couldn’t resist a joke at her own expense. Her mood had lightened considerably since coming here. Unlike her house, where Auntie El kept the wood polished and the heat low, Clementine’s floors were scattered with bright rugs, her gas fireplace crackled with warmth and there were piles of books everywhere. It was a lived-in home that invited comfort.
Clementine scratched away with her pen for a second. “One can always hope,” she said with a grin.
Tabitha smiled back and squeezed a little more lavender foot lotion into her palm. Just a little. Joy was always warning the students about not using too much lotion. The result would be a slick mess that gained no traction and made it more difficult to get deep into the muscles. Despite all her running, Clementine didn’t have rough feet. She had tiny, smooth feet with nails painted to match her fingers, which right now were bright pink. The only places she had calluses were on the outer edges of her big toes and around the edges of her heels. Tabitha focused her attention there with the extra squeeze of lotion.
“Thanks for coming over to give me the massage I missed.” Clementine set her notebook down on the coffee table next to her. She was stretched out on her back on the sofa, her feet propped on pillows in Tabitha’s lap. “It wasn’t necessary but it sure is nice. I can’t remember the last time I had a foot rub.”
Tabitha didn’t admit she’d come over as much, or more, for herself as she had for Clementine. Despite not being able to stay one more second at the race, she also hadn’t wanted to hang around the house and watch Auntie El fumble through her fatigue and odd brain fog, either. “I keep a journal, too,” she said, while she pressed her thumbs down to the center of Clementine’s foot. “It’s called a Journal of Invincibility. My therapist recommended it.” She gave a wry smile. “I don’t think it’s working.”
Clementine glanced at the book on the table and shook her head. “I write to my dead husband in that.”
She said it so bluntly Tabitha suppressed an inappropriate chuckle. “That’s sweet.”
“Is it? He’s been gone for eight years. I got three more of those, full, upstairs.” Clementine pointed at the ceiling. “I wonder what your therapist would make of that.”
“Eight years is a long time,” Tabitha admitted. “Have you ever dated?”
“It’s never been a priority. Lily’s always been the priority, and bringing strange men around just wasn’t something I wanted to do.”
“Does Lily remember much about him?”
“She has very specific memories,” Clementine said as Tabitha pressed her thumbs up the “lines” of the foot. “Tyler was gone a lot. Served two tours in Afghanistan while she was young and a lot of TDYs in between. A lot of Lily’s memories are of Ty coming and going. But—” Clementine shrugged “—she’s got some happy ones from when he was around.”
“That’s good.”
“You know what’s good?” Clementine’s voice brightened, and Tabitha knew a topic change was imminent. “Your foot massage. I don’t know what you’re worried about, girl. You’ve got some talent.”
“You think so?”
“I mean it. This is a good foot massage.”
“Thanks.” Tabitha’s mood felt a little bolstered. “Joy taught us a Thai foot massage routine early in school. She wanted us to have something in our bag of tricks that we could do with confidence, so that we’d be ready for all the other body parts.”
“None of us pay enough attention to our feet. We’re on them all day, but we never give them any love.”
Just as Tabitha finished with the last toe, Trinity rose, walked over to the dog bed by the fireplace and sat facing it, ears perked.
“The monsters must be stirring.” Clementine swung her legs around to face the brood as soon as Tabitha released her foot. There was a cat-and-dog pair named George and Gracie, both sacked out on the animal bed in front of the fireplace. They were an inseparable pair, according to Clementine. Since Tabitha had been here they’d been asleep, curled together in what looked like a golden ball of fur.
Now that they were waking up, unwinding from each other, Tabitha saw that indeed there was a hairless cat in the mix. George had been balled up against the puppy’s abdomen like a snake coiled in a basket. He sat up, wobbly with sleep. His pink skin, yellow eyes and huge ears made him look like a grumpy alien. To top it off, he wore an orange sweater with a smiling jack-o’-lantern on it.
Trinity was fascinated. Her tail whapped against the carpet as she watched them, otherwise not moving a muscle. George hissed at her. Trinity cocked her head to the side. Gracie, who had clown shoes for paws, clambered to her feet and leaned back into a stretch, straightening her front legs. George circled around Gracie, like she was a maypole, paused to glare at Trinity, then circled her again.
“You see why nobody wants to adopt them.” Clementine slid her feet into a pair of ratty pink slippers and rose. “C’mon, Gracie. Let’s go outside.”
Gracie bounced with excitement and raced to the back door. The cat followed.
“Wow, they’ve made themselves at home.” Tabitha grabbed her coat from the arm of the sofa and slid her arms inside. Clementine was already pulling open the sliding glass door that led to a fenced-in yard. Gracie bolted out and George scurried after her.
“Yeah, they’re home for now. Until someone takes them.” Clementine had on a gray sweatshirt with white paint stains down the front. She crossed her arms over her chest against the cold air that blew in the open door.
“Nobody’s shown any interest at all? I mean, yeah, they’re odd. But that’s part of their charm.” Tabitha smiled as she watched the cat follow the puppy all over the yard. When Gracie squatted to do her business, George politely turned his back to her, sat in the grass and waited.
“Not at the shelter. Lily hasn’t had anyone by yet. She was focused on finally getting Roscoe into his forever home this week. But hey. You know who met them?” Clementine’s eyes widened. “Hobbs. Lily said she ran into him at the gym on Halloween and he insisted on seeing what they looked like. She said he had a funny reaction to Gracie. That she reminded him of a dog he had when he was a kid. I don’t know.” Clementine shrugged. “Lily has good instincts for stuff like that.”
