"I need to brush my hair," Deena said, fidgeting with the
sleeves of her windbreaker.
"You already have." Her father pushed her gently onto the
front porch and closed the door. "Three times since supper,
actually."
She managed about half a glare at him. "Proper personal
hygiene is very important."
I was sitting in my chair at the end of the driveway, El
Brujo in my lap. "I do so enjoy," she said, the slightest bit
of a purr behind her words, "watching human relationships.
You're such fascinating creatures."
"On behalf of the species, I thank you." Though to tell
the truth, I couldn't take my eyes off Deena and her father,
either. And sure, some of that was because I was completely
smitten with her--seeing her break down and pull herself back
together again had been like an arrow right through my heart,
and all I wanted to do with the rest of my life at that point
was whatever I could to keep her from ever breaking down again.
But mostly it was, as El Brujo had said, the whole thing
between her and her father. It was an actual loving parent-
child bond, and that was something I knew even less about than
thin, pale, lovely, broken young women.
"Wait!" she was saying now, rushing down the steps to the
lawn. "We can't just leave--" She cupped a hand to her mouth.
"Heather! C'mon, girl!"
"Deena!" I heard the little dog shout from the back of the
house, and a few seconds later, she tore around the side yard,
her tiny legs pumping as fast as a sewing machine needle. "Mr.
Dad! Mr. Augie! El Brujo kitty! And that means all my friends
are here because Serena is chasing me!"
"I am!" the squirrel called, bounding from lumpy grass tuft
to lumpy grass tuft behind Heather. She pulled up with a
squeak, though, as Deena crouched down, her arms out, Heather
jumping in and getting clutched to her chest.
Deena pressed her face against Heather. "We can't just
leave her here alone, Dad! We'll...we'll hafta call the place
and cancel the session!"
El Brujo gave me a look, and I realized I hadn't actually
offered my services yet. "I'll watch her," I said. Switching
quickly to animal talk, I asked Heather, "Would you be able to
be good and quiet and sit here on me next to El Brujo?"
Heather had been a blur of tongue and fur squirming over
Deena's chest and neck and face, but at my suggestion, she
froze, her front paws on Deena's biceps, her eyes so wide, I
wasn't sure she had any room left for the rest of her face.
"Sit, Mr. Augie? On you? Next to El Brujo?"
Serena swarmed over my shoe and up onto my knee, El Brujo
somehow restraining herself to just folding one ear partway
down. "And I!" the squirrel announced. "I shall be here as
well!"
The moan Heather gave off then was half agony, half
ecstasy. "When I am an old dog lying in front of the fire
watching my puppies' puppies play, this is the day I shall tell
them about when they want to know the most wonderful thing to
have ever happened to me!" She craned her neck around to turn
those gigantic eyes on Deena, and even though neither of them
spoke the other's language, well, they sure didn't need me to
translate.
"Would you?" Deena looked from Heather to me and back
again. "She...she wouldn't be too much of a handful?"
For once in my life, I managed not to blurt out the first
words that came to me--'A dog that small's nothing but a
handful'--and instead said, "Animals seem to like me."
Deena's sideways smile made me catch my breath, and I could
see her eyes moving to glance at the El Brujo and Serena.
"Yeah, I kinda noticed that."
I shrugged. "I always thought I attracted cats 'cause I
smelled like fish, but I guess that doesn't really explain the
squirrels..."
That got a laugh out of her; she took the dozen or so steps
across the lawn to where I sat and held Heather out to me, her
smile straining a bit around the edges. "She'll be all right,"
she asked quietly. "Won't she?"
Reaching for the little dog, I couldn't help but brush my
fingers against hers. "You've got nothing to worry about," I
told her, and while I've always been a little too twitchy to be
what you'd call reassuring, Deena's smile seemed to relax a
little.
She looked back at her dad. "We going or not?"
I looked at her father, too, and the expression on his face
was one I couldn't quite classify. Wistful, maybe? Part of it
involved smiling, though, as he said, "Y'know when they talk
about 'the good old days'? Well, these are them, right here and
right now."
A little shiver ran through me. Had he heard what Heather
had said? Or was it just--?
El Brujo twitched her whiskers in a little cat laugh.
"Families often think alike," she said.
So let's just say that this all continues. That would imply that 30 would come next, seems to me...
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