Lost in La La Land(7)

“Hello, my love.” I kissed her soft head, inhaling the perfumed smell of her doggy shampoo. She had been to the groomer only the day before and was as fresh as a flower. “How was your day?”

She tilted her head, contemplating my question and me.

I placed her down, getting her dish of food. I scooped the saucy meats she loved into the dish. “Look, bison tripe. Who’s excited?”

She ran around in a small circle, doing her saucy-meat dance. The dog was a charmer. Her tricolored body was mostly white with small spots and stripes of beige and brown. She had the huge elephant ears papillons were known for and the curly tail. I adored her dainty feet and tiny beak.

I stroked her back as I placed the dish on the floor. She lapped at the tripe and crunched the kibbles I had stirred in.

After watching her for a few minutes, I grabbed a dinner from the freezer, pad Thai, and started heating it up.

My mind wandered.

Had I done something that now, five years later, I should take a closer look at?

Lana was the first and only patient to come on a regular basis. I should have paid more attention to that—studied her. I adored the joy she got, and I had lived vicariously through her on each journey.

Every time she went in, I closed my eyes and imagined it.

I too was Scarlett, descending the beautiful staircase at Twelve Oaks, excited to see Rhett. Only he wasn’t Clark Gable. He was my dead husband, Jonathan.

That was where everything went wrong, even in a simple daydream.

Jonathan would then smile at me coyly, maybe smirk a little before turning and walking from the room. Like Alice was with the white rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, I would need to chase after him. But the dress was so grand and the stairs so high, I wouldn't be able to. In my head, I took the stairs slowly, my eyes always searching for him.

He would be the white rabbit, misplaced in the story of Miss Scarlett and her Rhett. Jonathan would be impossible to nail down to get a clear glimpse of. He would lead me around the rooms. It would end up more frustrating than exhilarating. A puzzle that couldn't be solved or escaped from.

And now it would all be over because, no matter what, Lana wouldn't be back. I would keep my promise to the mayor.

She was addicted, and as much as I wanted to study that, I had to respect the fact she was a regular person and not a test subject.

I curled up on the couch with the news on, flashing images and words, but my brain was lost in the sea of possibilities and problems. I crawled around inside the machine mentally, trying to find the flaw.

My stomach growled.

I glanced back at the microwave, sighing. I’d forgotten my meal again. I poured a bowl of cereal and ate it, leaning against the counter and visualizing my problems on the wall.

Lola barked at me, scratching at the door.

I searched for my coat, realizing I was still wearing it.

I was losing my mind.

Grabbing her leash and my keys, I darted out into the hall, only to discover I’d forgotten her in the apartment. I sighed, cupping my face with my hands and taking in several breaths before getting her and heading for the walk.

We had a private park in the back of the building, specifically for dogs. It was a safe place to walk at night in Manhattan.

I paced and strolled, tapping my fingers as she scampered about, sniffing and peeing.

“Dr. Hartley?”

I turned, wincing when I saw the mayor again paying me a visit alone. “Mr. Mayor, to what do I owe this pleasure a second time?”

“You swore you would keep her from your shop.” The stricken look on his face made me less defensive than I could have been.

“She needed one last time. I had to do it. We never told her it was her last time before. She needed to go in once more knowing that; she needed closure. It was cruel to cut her off.”

“She’s nonresponsive. I hope you’re happy now.”

“What?” My heart leapt in my chest. “What do you mean? Did she hurt herself?”

“I took her to the hospital, but they can’t find a thing wrong with her.” His words were calm, the creepy kind, until he lashed forward, grabbing my arm roughly. “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?”

“Nothing!” I shoved him back. “Nothing! Sir, get control of yourself.”

“YOU WILL TELL ME WHAT YOU DID!”

“Nothing.” I shook my head but my mind wandered. She had seemed different. “It was just like every other time, but she seemed sad. Take me to her.” I had to see her to understand it. Part of me believed she might be faking it. She hated her husband more than enough to do that, and she was mourning her loss of the fantasy.

“You will never see her again!” He grabbed my arm once more, his grip tightened, shaking me as he sputtered contradictory outbursts, “I will fucking kill you, and I do mean gut you like a fucking fish. You won’t see her again. You have to fix her. If she isn’t normal by tomorrow I will burn your whole shop to the ground with you in it,” he contradicted himself.

“Sir!” My insides tensed as I took each word he threatened me with seriously. “Stop!” I pulled back, trying to escape his clutches. “I need to see her. I understand you’re upset but attacking me will not fix this. I need to see her to fix it.”

He turned to drag me.

“Wait!” I pulled back. “My dog, Mr. Mayor. Stop. Please. I will put my dog inside and meet you downstairs, out front.” He seemed about to say something, but I changed my tone to a nonnegotiable one, “I want to help her. I see your wife has become addicted, I see that now. I agree with you. It’s impossible and yet she has. She’s had a reaction that shouldn't be possible. I want to solve it as well.”