Chapter Sixteen
“You guys want to come over for dinner tonight?”
There was a lengthy pause at the other end of the line. “Are you okay?” Anna’s voice was hushed, as if she were speaking to someone who might keel over any second.
“I’m fine. But I never have you over. Besides, I have a small surprise.”
“Surprise?”
“It’s not severed heads, I promise. You’ll like it.”
She laughed. “Okay, okay. We’d love to. What can we bring?”
“Dessert.”
It was an unusually warm Monday in late October, so Elliott thought he’d grill some steaks. The grill itself had been a birthday gift from Anna and Ladd, but he rarely used it. Didn’t seem worth the fuss when it was just him. Today, though, he was in the mood. He went to the store and bought a salad trio: potato, macaroni, and green. He picked up steaks, a bottle of merlot, and because he couldn’t resist, yet another package of dog treats.
“Sucker,” he muttered as he tossed them into the cart.
Student papers had been due the night before, and of course most of them were submitted in the minutes before midnight. After putting away the groceries, Elliott slogged through the submissions patiently, correcting horrible writing and informing select writers that, no, California did not join the Union in the sixteenth century and the first European visitors were not from Germany. He paused a few times to let Ishtar into the backyard or to rub her belly. In between her bouts of exercise, she seemed inclined to nap. It was funny what good company a sleeping dog made.
Elliott and Simon texted a few times. Simon checked on his protégé and complained about his physiotherapist, who he claimed could have had a promising career doing wet work for the CIA. Elliott shared some of his students’ more egregious manglings of the English language.
Midafternoon, Elliott and Ishtar went for a walk. Due to the warm October weather, a lot of people were out and about, which pleased Ishtar immensely. She liked everyone but was especially drawn to children. When a young boy, maybe two or three years old, came running over, Ishtar dropped to her belly so he could pet her. When he tried to climb on her back, his mother peeled him off, which seemed to disappoint both child and dog. The only thing Ishtar didn’t like, it turned out, was lawn sprinklers. She gave them a wide berth. Maybe she disapproved of such flagrant disregard of the city’s watering restrictions.
When the doorbell rang shortly before six, Ishtar sprang to her feet and barked energetically, ruining much of Elliott’s surprise before he even answered the door. Still, Ladd and Anna gaped at her once they were inside, Ladd holding a carton of ice cream over his head like an offering to a sky god.
“A dog!” he said.
“Ishtar,” said Elliott, as if that explained everything. He took the carton and waved them further inside. Ladd remained near the entryway, looking dubious, but Anna sat down on the carpet and almost immediately had most of Ishtar in her lap. They both seemed thrilled.
“You got a dog,” said Ladd. Very slowly, sounding unsure.
“Simon got her for me. I was pissed off for about three seconds because I didn’t think I wanted a pet, but look. How could I not fall in love?” Proving Elliott’s point, Ishtar licked Anna’s chin.
Elliott hurried off to stick the ice cream in the freezer. By the time he returned, Ladd was on the floor beside Anna, and Ishtar was stretched out between them. It looked like an awkward position, yet Ishtar showed no intention of moving.
“She’s friendly,” Elliott said. Which was slightly obvious.
At their prompting, he told them Ishtar’s story. He was starting to think he should just write down her biography and hand out copies, complete with her paw print as a signature. Anna and Ladd made sympathetic noises over the sad parts, and Ishtar played it up, begging for more petting as consolation.
Eventually, though, Ladd looked over at Elliott. “How serious are you and this guy? I mean, a dog—it’s not an engagement ring, but it’s not a box of chocolates either.”
“I don’t know. I . . . like him. A lot. He likes me. But we have complications.”
“He still hasn’t told the parents, huh?”
“No. And I’m still job hunting, so . . .”
Seemingly content to leave it at that, Ladd shrugged. “Need some help with dinner?”
“Nah. I’ll just go throw the steaks on.”
His attempt at grilling wasn’t a complete success. The meat ended up a little too charred on the outside and too raw in the middle. But it tasted good anyway, especially when eaten outdoors. It was nice to sit in the backyard, chewing on steak, using the patio furniture he usually neglected, and watching Ishtar streak around in the growing darkness. Anna talked about some aggravations at work; Ladd and Elliott exchanged horror stories from teaching.
“We should get a dog,” Anna said when Ishtar dropped a soggy ball at Elliott’s feet. Elliott tossed it across the lawn, sending her racing at full speed. “You outgrew your allergies, Ladd.”
“Yeah, I did. But with both of us gone all day? That won’t work very well.”
“We could get a teeny tiny dog, and I’ll take her to work in my purse. Or we can get a breed that lies around all day.”
“The legendary Couch Potato Hound?”
“Yes.”
She dropped the subject after that, but her expression remained so speculative that Elliott suspected Ishtar might soon have a canine cousin. And why not? Ishtar would be pleased, and Elliott wouldn’t mind a bit of family expansion, regardless of species.
Family. Every time he thought the word, he remembered that Simon was faced with losing his. It wasn’t fair.
“What’s wrong, El?” That was Ladd, his voice low and concerned.
“Nothing. Just internally railing against injustice.”
“Ugh. Well, good luck with that. You’ve got yourself a really nice roommate, at least.” Ladd grinned. “Never thought you’d end up living with a girl.”
“I never thought I’d end up living with anyone.” Elliott snorted. “Ishtar’s a lot more forgiving than a human would be.”
Anna had been chasing a last bit of macaroni salad around her plate. “Ishtar. Wasn’t that a movie?”
Elliott nodded. He’d heard of it but had never seen it. He’d googled the film the previous day. “Dustin Hoffman and Warren Beatty. It bombed.”
“Oh. Too bad. Well, this Ishtar’s a winner for sure.”
They went inside for ice cream and tea. Ladd and Anna had to wake up early for work, but they showered Ishtar with adoration before they left.
“I’d like to meet Simon some time,” said Ladd. “He sounds like a catch.”
Elliott gave a wry smile. “That’s part of my worry. I was never any good at playing ball.”
***
There was something unsettling about Tuesday. Maybe it was the weather. The barometric pressure had dropped suddenly, bringing colder temperatures and threatening clouds. Ishtar seemed slightly restless too, even after a long run. She had trouble getting comfortable on her bed, and even once she was settled, she kept getting up to wander over and rest her chin in Elliott’s lap.
“Already having adoptee’s remorse?” he asked, although he knew that wasn’t the case. She fit into the household as if she’d been there for years, and she rarely wanted to leave his side. Maybe she was just picking up on his unease, the weird feeling that something might jump out of the shadows and bite him.
So perhaps he could be excused for startling wildly when his phone rang as he was sitting down to lunch. He recognized the area code as Nebraska.
“Hello?”
“Hi! Elliott Thompson? This is Ginny Holmes from NSU.”
It was fortunate he had water nearby, because his throat went desert dry. “Hi, Ginny.”
“I’m calling because we’d like to bring you to campus for an interview. Assuming you’re still interested in us, of course.”
“That’s great! I’m definitely interested.” He hoped he was striking the right balance between enthusiasm and nonchalance, but his heart was beating so furiously he was sure she could hear it.
“Great! Our bureaucratic wheels spin slowly here, and by the time we get all the approvals, we’ll be hitting the holidays. So we’d like to bring you out when spring semester begins. The week of January fourteenth?”
Nebraska in January. He was going to have to buy suitable winter wear. “That sounds great.”
They chatted for a few minutes about the details of his visit, then sidetracked into a short discussion about weather. Apparently they were expecting a Halloween blizzard, which was unusual for them but not unprecedented. Ginny laughed when she learned that children in Modesto were moaning about the next day’s rain forecast. “I suppose you don’t get much weather there,” she said.
“Only if you count baking heat in summer as weather.”
“Oh, we get hot too,” she said cheerfully. “But we like to pair it with high humidity!”
By the time he hung up, Elliott discovered his appetite had fled, and his stomach was apparently under the impression it was on board a ship during a hurricane. He wrapped up his sandwich and salad and put them in the fridge, then leaned back against the counter and looked solemnly at Ishtar. “I don’t know how I feel about this.”
She wagged her tail as if encouraging him to continue.
“You know, when I was finishing up grad school, I got several phone interviews and three campus interviews. Three. Two of those schools ended up offering me a job. John only worked at one of them, but he liked to take credit anyway. He said his glowing recommendations got me in. But I think I got the offers because I’m a good scholar and a good instructor.”
Ishtar meandered over to him, then plopped down on top of his feet. She was a good listener.
“So the people at NSU know about the scandal—and know I’m gay—and want to meet me. That’s good. I think I can impress them.” With some difficulty, he pulled his feet from under Ishtar, then slid down the base cabinets until he was sitting next to her. He buried his face in her neck. “Do I want to impress them?” he whispered into her fur.
She didn’t answer, which was only fair considering he didn’t know either. Ever since leaving his last job, he’d been dreaming of a new tenure-track appointment the way some people dreamed of winning the lottery. Metaphorically speaking, he’d continued buying his tickets, week after week. But now that the shining prize was possibly within reach, he wasn’t even sure he wanted it anymore. He’d read about people who won a jackpot and ended up miserable due to lives suddenly complicated by bloodsucking relatives, opportunistic friends, and brazen strangers. Winning wasn’t always the best result in the long run.
And in his case, there was Simon. Whom he’d known only a short time, and whom Elliott might very well lose even if he stayed in Modesto. But, God, even the thought of that loss sent his heart into a panicked rhythm. What if Simon was the real prize and that job in Nebraska—or anywhere else for that matter—was nothing but fool’s gold?
“Life is hard,” Elliott whined to Ishtar. “Why can’t I be a dog?”
Except she had led a difficult life too, abandoned by her family and left for months without anyone to love her. He wrapped his arms around her neck; she licked his ear before settling her chin on his shoulder.
That evening, Elliott took Ishtar for a walk and accidentally on purpose ended up at Simon’s house. But a Ford sedan was parked in his driveway, so Elliott kept going. He felt like a dirty secret, which wasn’t a sensation he wanted to relive. He knew it wasn’t Simon’s fault, not really, and Simon had certainly been honest about his situation from the beginning. But still it made Elliott a little angry, and then he was angry at himself for being angry at Simon.
He and Ishtar ran the few blocks home.