The Wife Between Us(71)

“You like that? It’s okay, boy. You can wag as much as you want.”

I slid off my chair to sit beside him as I continued to stroke his head, finding a rhythm he seemed to enjoy. It soothed me, too, to feel my fingers gliding along the warm, thick fur.

A little later, I stood up and went into the kitchen and found his leash.

Duke followed me.

“I’m going to put this on you. Be a good dog and sit, okay?”

For the first time, I equated his stillness with gentleness. Still, I attached the silver clip to his collar as quickly as possible so I could withdraw my hand from the vicinity of his teeth.

The crisp winter air pinched the tip of my nose and my ears as soon as we stepped outside, but it wasn’t so chilly that I was in a rush to return home. Duke and I probably walked close to three miles that day, exploring corners of our neighborhood I’d never before seen. He matched my pace, standing by my side the entire time, only stopping to sniff grass or relieve himself when I paused.

Unclipping his leash wasn’t as intimidating when we arrived home. I filled his water bowl and poured a glass of iced tea for myself, drinking it down thirstily. My legs felt pleasantly heavy from the walk, and I realized I’d needed it as much as Duke had. I began to return to the library, then paused in the doorway and looked at Duke.

“Come.”

He ambled over and sat down beside me.

“You’re such a good boy.”


On Richard’s birthday, we picked up my mother at the airport and brought her back to the house. By the time Maureen arrived a few hours later, my mother had already scattered her belongings through the rooms—her purse in the kitchen, her shawl slung over the back of a dining room chair, and her book splayed open on Richard’s favorite ottoman—and had turned up the heat an extra five degrees. I could tell this irked Richard, even though he didn’t say a word.

Dinner went smoothly enough, even though my mother kept slipping Duke pieces of her steak—she’d already abandoned vegetarianism—under the table.

“He’s an unusually intuitive dog,” she declared.

Maureen shifted her chair a bit farther away from Duke and my mother, then asked Richard a question about a stock she was considering buying. She wasn’t a dog person, she explained, though she’d gamely given Duke a pat.

After I served the cheesecake, we all went into the living room to open gifts. Richard opened mine first. I’d gotten him a framed Rangers hockey jersey signed by all the players—and a matching Rangers collar for Duke.

My mother presented Richard with the new Deepak Chopra book. “I know you work so hard. Maybe you can read this on your commute?”

He politely opened it and flipped through a few pages. “This is probably exactly what I need.” When my mom went to find the card she’d left in her purse, he winked at me.

“I’ll get you the CliffsNotes version in case she asks you about it,” I joked.

Maureen gave him two floor seats to a Knicks game the next night. “We’ve got a sports theme going here,” she laughed. She and Richard were both basketball fans.

“You should take Maureen to the game,” I said.

“That was my plan all along,” Maureen replied lightly. “I remember Richard tried to explain goaltending to you once and I saw you zone out.”

“Guilty as charged.”

My mother’s eyes flitted from Maureen to Richard, then they landed on me. “Well, it’s a good thing I’m up here. Otherwise you’d be left home alone, Vanessa. Why don’t you and I go into the city tomorrow and we can have dinner with Aunt Charlotte?”

“Sure.” I could tell my mother was surprised Maureen hadn’t gotten three tickets. Maybe she thought I felt left out, but the truth was, I was happy Richard’s sister wanted to be with him. He had no other family.

My mother stayed for two more days, and although I braced myself for her usual unfiltered declarations, they never emerged. She came with me whenever I took Duke on his walks, and she suggested we give him his first bath. Duke submitted to it with his usual dignity, though his brown eyes seemed reproachful, and he got revenge by shaking water on us after he stepped out of the tub. Laughing with my mother then was the highlight of her trip for me. I think it may have been for her, too.

When we said good-bye at the airport, she hugged me for much longer than she usually did when we parted.

“I love you, Vanessa. I’d like to see you more. Maybe you could come to Florida in a month or two?”

I’d dreaded her visit, but I found myself surprisingly comforted by her embrace. “I’ll try.”

And I intended to. But then everything changed again.


I quickly grew used to Duke’s solid presence in the house, to our brisk morning walks, to chatting with him as I cooked dinner. I brushed his fur for long stretches while he rested his head on my leg, and I wondered how I’d ever been frightened of him. When I took a shower, he waited like a sentry just outside the bathroom. Whenever I came home, he was stationed in the hallway just inside the front door, his ears perked up into triangles. He seemed relieved when I was back in his sights.

I was so grateful to Richard. He must have known that Duke would provide more than security. In the absence of the baby we so desperately wanted, Duke was my companion.

“I love Duke so much,” I told Richard one night a few weeks later. “You were right. He really does make me feel safe.” I recounted the story of how Duke and I had been strolling down our sidewalk, a dozen yards from our house, when the mailman suddenly emerged from a gap in the hedges surrounding a neighbor’s yard. Duke had quickly positioned himself between the two of us, and I heard a low rumbling in his throat. The mailman gave us a wide berth and continued on his way, and so did we. “That’s the only time I’ve seen that side of him.”