Jane Bites Back

I stayed up one night just holding him and rubbing his ears, telling him what a good boy he was. At some point I looked down and he was gone.”

Jane felt a catch in her throat. She looked over at Lucy, expecting to see her crying. Instead, she was smiling.

“I don’t understand.”

Lucy looked at her. Again Jane was surprised to see that on her face was a look of happiness. “He died knowing that I loved him,” Lucy said. “Dogs live in the moment. However they’re feeling is how they believe they’ve always felt. For those three months Spike thought he was the happiest dog in the world. He forgot all about being abused and scared and alone. And when he had to go, I was there for him.” She paused a moment. “If you ask me, that’s about as good as it gets.”

“But what about you?” Jane said. “You had to lose him.”

“But I got to know him for three whole months,” said Lucy. “I got to love him and care for him. If I hadn’t taken that chance, I never would have gotten to experience what I did. And now when I think about him, I only think about all of the good things he brought me.”

“That’s why you wanted me to go back for Jasper,” said Jane. “You think he’s my Spike.”

“No,” Lucy said. “I wanted you to go back for Jasper because I knew he was afraid. Walter is your Spike.”

“That was a horrible trick,” Jane said, sniffling.

“It’s not a trick,” said Lucy. “It’s the truth.”

Jane spent the next two hours talking about anything but Walter. When Lucy dropped her off at her house, Jane was relieved to be getting away from her. She took Jasper inside, where the first thing he saw was Tom. They stared at each other for a few seconds, and then Tom tore up the stairs with Jasper behind him, barking like crazy.

So much for peace and quiet, Jane thought as she left them to work things out and went into the kitchen to go through the mail that had piled up in her absence. As usual, it was nothing but bills, catalogs, and uninteresting junk addressed to Occupant. Nothing personal. No letters or cards. Nothing from anyone who cared about her.

“You’ve let Lucy get to you,” she told herself as Jasper came trotting into the kitchen. He had a fresh scratch on his nose, and Jane assumed he and Tom had come to some kind of understanding. Jane filled his water bowl and set it on the floor. Jasper drank happily, slopping half of the water onto the floor and dipping his ears in the bowl. Jane made a mental note to pick up some more paper towels.

“You’re not going to die on me, are you?” she asked Jasper. He looked up at her and wagged his little stub.

“Good,” Jane said.

She was leaving the kitchen to take her bags upstairs when she noticed that the message light on her machine was blinking. It’s probably Kelly, she thought as she hit the play button.

“Jane, it’s Walter,” said the familiar voice. “I’m just calling to see how your trip was. I saw you on Comfort and Joy. It was … interesting.” He paused. “You looked nice,” he continued. “Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. Give me a call when you get back. If you want to. Bye.”

Jane erased the message, but the words stuck in her head. Walter did care about her. She knew that. But …

But what? asked a voice that sounded unnervingly like Lucy’s.

“But everything,” said Jane with irritation. “Everything, that’s all. It just wouldn’t work.”

She continued upstairs, where she threw her bags on the bed and began to unpack them. “It’s impossible,” she said, tossing some underthings into the hamper. Even though she hadn’t worn them, Lucy’s comment about the baggage handler had made her suspicious. “For one thing, once he found out about me he wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

Jasper came into the bedroom and lay down. A moment later Tom poked his head out from under the bed and crept out, cutting a wide berth as he walked around Jasper and pretended not to be looking at him. He jumped onto the bed and settled down on top of Jane’s red silk blouse, which she had just removed from her bag.

“You know I’m right,” Jane said to Tom and Jasper. “Stop looking at me that way.”

She took a pair of shoes from the bag and dropped them on the floor. “I mean, who would want to be with someone like me?” she asked. “‘Sorry, dear,’” she said in a mocking imitation of her own voice. “‘I can’t watch television with you tonight. I have to go find someone to bite.’” She shooed Tom off her blouse and shook the hair from it. “I don’t think so,” she said firmly.

“Not that it wouldn’t be nice,” she remarked as she unpacked the pants she’d intended to wear on television. “It has been a long time. And I do miss some things, like having someone hold my hand, and coming home to someone other than a cat.” She looked at Tom. “Sorry,” she apologized. Then she looked at Jasper. “Not that you aren’t lovely,” she told him. “But it’s not the same.”

She finished with the first bag and started on the second. It contained mainly toiletries, which she carried to the bathroom in several trips. “Men are so difficult, though,” she said to herself. “One never knows what they’re thinking.” She deposited her makeup bag on the bathroom counter. “Although Walter always says just what he means,” she argued.

When she’d finished, she put the suitcases back in her closet. Tom and Jasper were still watching her, Tom with a decided air of boredom and Jasper as if at any moment she might announce that it was dinnertime.

“What are you looking at me for?” Jane demanded of them. “That’s not going to work.” She sighed. “Fine. You win.”

Going into her office, she picked up the phone and dialed before she could stop herself. Walter picked up on the second ring. Jane forced herself to not hang up.

“It’s Jane,” she said. “I’m wondering, would you be free for dinner tonight? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Chapter 31

“When she finished telling him what she had so long kept hidden, she looked up, her eyes wet with tears. “Can you ever forgive me?” she asked. He knelt and took her hand. “Forgive you?” he replied. “For what? For having a foolish heart? Who among us doesn’t?”

—Jane Austen, Constance, manuscript

“It went really well,” Jane told Lucy. It was the next morning, and she was filling Lucy in on her dinner and conversation with Walter the night before. “He was particularly pleased to hear that I’m not really celibate. At least not by choice.”

“So you told him about the whole, you know … situation?” Lucy asked.

Jane, who was alphabetizing the mystery section, suddenly became very interested in the cover of an Ellis Peters novel. “It didn’t come up,” she mumbled.

“Excuse me?” said Lucy. “It sounded like you said you chickened out. Is that right?”

“I’m going to tell him,” Jane said. “Just not right now.”

Lucy made a clucking sound with her tongue.

“Don’t tut-tut me,” Jane warned. “I’ll get to that part eventually. It was difficult enough telling him that I have abandonment issues. When he said he would never leave me, it was all I could do not to have a breakdown on the spot.”

“Well, you have ten years or so to tell him,” Lucy said. “That’s about when he’ll start wondering why you never gain weight and your hair doesn’t turn gray.”

“I can always tell him that I’m very well preserved,” Jane suggested.

Lucy laughed. “At least the two of you are finally an item.”

“An item,” said Jane. “You make us sound like celebrities.”