Happily Letter After(26)

“Who is that?” I swallowed.

“It’s the real dog trainer Gretchen Schmidt. She contacted me recently to apologize for not showing up a few weeks ago due to a family emergency. Gave me the link to her new website, where I found her bio.”

Oh no.

I knew I should’ve said something at that point, but the words wouldn’t come.

He continued. “And what do you know . . . she trained in Munich while spending a year abroad, not at the . . . what was it you said? The Key Training School? Apparently, all they teach at the latter is how to lie through your teeth!”

I was seriously going to throw up.

“I can explain—”

“That’s good to know, but unfortunately, there’s nothing you could say at this point that I would believe. So, what I need you to do right now is to get out of my house and never come back.”

This is so bad.

So very bad.

“I’ll leave. But can I please just explain first?”

“Not unless you want to explain to the police.”

The police? He had to be kidding me. Was impersonating a dog trainer even a crime? I didn’t have enough legal background to figure out if I was in any kind of serious trouble here. So, rather than take a chance and make things worse, I decided to do as he said and headed for the door.

He might as well have told me not to let the door hit me on the way out, because I swore I felt it hit my ass as he slammed it shut behind me.

The New York air never felt colder, the skies never looked grayer as I made my way down the stairs and onto the sidewalk, feeling like a piece of tossed-out trash that had been fucked worse than Birdie’s stuffed turtle.

A mix of emotions pummeled through me. It wasn’t just the shock of having been outed but also an inexplicable sense of loss—not only the loss of Birdie but losing a sense of belonging that had come along with this experience. I hadn’t even realized it had been missing in my life until it was ripped away.



Two weeks after that horrible day at the Maxwells’, I still hadn’t gotten over it. The one thing I was grateful for was that Birdie hadn’t been there to witness any of it. I certainly hoped Sebastian never told her what really happened with me. It would break my heart if I thought Birdie saw me as a malicious person.

My heart was truly broken, and I’d spent many sleepless nights weighing whether or not I should try to find a way to explain myself to Sebastian again. He’d specifically said that he wouldn’t believe anything I had to say. Telling him the truth could also make things worse. Then again, how much worse could things get?

Dr. Emery was out of the country for a few months, so I couldn’t even run this situation by her. It didn’t matter how many times I went back and forth over it, I would always come to the conclusion that it was better to just leave well enough alone.

But of course, life has a way of sometimes coming around and making decisions for you.

One afternoon, I checked the mail to find that Birdie had sent “Santa” another letter. It had been a long time since she’d written, and I truly hadn’t been expecting her to write back ever again.

Given the circumstances, nothing could have kept me from ripping that envelope open.

Dear Santa,

I wasn’t going to write to you anymore, but now that it’s getting closer to Christmas, this can be like my one Christmas letter.

I have a dog named Marmaduke now. He’s a Great Dane like I’ve always wanted. I love him so much. Mommy brought him. Well, not Mommy herself, but Daddy said that she sent him a message to bring Marmaduke to me. That’s how I knew she wasn’t mad at me for stealing cookies. (I still steal cookies. You know that, right?)

Mommy hasn’t sent me any more signs. But that’s okay. I know she’s busy being an angel.

I met someone who lost her mom when she was six like me. I never met someone else who had a mom die from cancer before. She was really nice. Her name is Sadie. Well, she has two names: Sadie and Gretchen. She’s the reason I have two names now: Birdie and Muffuleta. Anyway, Sadie was Marmaduke’s dog trainer. She taught him to sit and other stuff in German. Oh and she saved his life, too. I thought maybe you had answered my wish for a special friend when she first came. But then Sadie disappeared. I don’t know what happened. Daddy just said she wasn’t coming anymore. He said he didn’t know why. But he acted weird when I asked him about it. I think maybe it was my fault that she left. Maybe I made her sad because I lost my mom. Maybe it reminded her about hers? I wish I knew why Sadie left without saying goodbye. Why does everyone leave me?

Anyway, I don’t know if you can find Sadie and tell her that I’m sorry.

Thanks, Santa.

Love, Birdie

(AKA Muffuleta)



I ended up having to leave work early that day. Even though I’d wanted to hit the liquor store, I knew I likely wouldn’t have been able to know when to stop drowning my sorrows. I went straight home instead.

It didn’t matter how many times I reread that letter, the answer of what I needed to do next was now abundantly clear.

Sebastian had paid me for my services via a new PayPal account I’d set up before he realized the truth. So I had his email address associated with that payment.

Before I could change my mind, I opened my laptop, generated a new email from my real account, and started typing.