you think maybe you should lie down?”
Her glazed eyes met mine. They brimmed with tears and what looked a lot like sorrow.
“Sure. I’ll lie down.”
I helped her to the bedroom and laid her on her side.
“I’ll walk Snaffles and then I’ll be back,” I told her, but she was already asleep.
When I returned Snaffles 45 minutes later, Mrs. Saperstein was still sleeping soundly. When I came back at seven to give Snaffles his evening walk, the apartment was dark and I could hear her snoring in the bedroom. I peeked in at her. The room was bathed in twilight, and she was lying on her back with her bleached-blond hair spread out on the pillow. Her jaw was slack, her arms flung wide at her sides. I felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was a widow now, a drunk, passed-out widow.
The doorbell rang. I jumped, and Mrs. Saperstein moaned, then turned over. I scurried quietly on tiptoes to the front door, and I looked through the peephole as the doorbell rang again. A handsome young Hispanic man in a blue and gray doorman’s uniform stood outside with his hat in his hand. He looked nervously up and down the hallway, then reached for the bell again. I opened the door quickly, trying to stop him from waking Mrs. Saperstein. He took a step back when he saw me.
“Hi, I’m Joy, the Sapersteins’ dog-walker,” I said.
“Hello, I’m Julen, the doorman.” He turned his hat in his hands and looked down the hall again.
“Can I help you with something?” He looked back at me, his eyes large, brown and tortured.
“I need to talk with Jacquelyn,” he caught himself quickly, “Mrs. Saperstein.”
“She’s napping right now.”
“Is she OK?” he asked.
“I believe so,” I said.
“She is a very sensitive woman.” He caught himself again and, realizing he had said too much, turned and headed back toward the elevator.
Drinks With James, Again
“This is just shocking,” James said sitting across from me at the little table in his yard. Blue slept at our feet and Aurora was perched in the tree above us, pissed that Blue slept at our feet.
“Trust me, I know.”
“"I mean, you find a dead body, you know the guy, or at least his dog, then you find out the widow is having an affair, you meet the guy she is having the affair with.”
“That sums it up.” I sipped my mango margarita.
“Well, no, I forgot the part about you fucking Marcus. That was dumb.” He shook his head at me.
“I know that,” I said.
“Joy. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how you feel,” he said, his tone softer now.
“I feel weird. Really, fucking weird.” I stared into my half-empty glass, hoping to find a better word than weird. None came.
“It’s awful,” James said.
“I feel—”I was trying to make him understand something I didn’t understand myself. “—my whole life has changed in the last week.”
“Is there anything I can do?” James asked, refilling my glass.
“Besides that? No, I don’t think so. I just need to put this behind me.”
“That seems to be the only option.”
I wondered if that was true.
“James?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m thinking something crazy here.”
“I like crazy. What’s up?”
“I've spent my whole life putting things behind me, right? I mean I've jumped from crappy job to crappy job, from crappy boyfriend to crappy boyfriend.”
“The crappy part is true, but I don’t know if that’s putting things behind you so much as moving forward.”
I cocked my head at him and wrinkled my brow.
“I would say it’s more like standing still.”
“I think you have made progress.”
“My point is, maybe I shouldn’t put this behind me. Maybe I should do something about this.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, but something. I mean this guy is dead.”
“That’s true.”
“And I knew him.”
“You knew his dog.”
“And maybe I could do something to help him.”
“He’s dead.”
“But what about—I don’ know. I just don’t think I can
Her glazed eyes met mine. They brimmed with tears and what looked a lot like sorrow.
“Sure. I’ll lie down.”
I helped her to the bedroom and laid her on her side.
“I’ll walk Snaffles and then I’ll be back,” I told her, but she was already asleep.
When I returned Snaffles 45 minutes later, Mrs. Saperstein was still sleeping soundly. When I came back at seven to give Snaffles his evening walk, the apartment was dark and I could hear her snoring in the bedroom. I peeked in at her. The room was bathed in twilight, and she was lying on her back with her bleached-blond hair spread out on the pillow. Her jaw was slack, her arms flung wide at her sides. I felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was a widow now, a drunk, passed-out widow.
The doorbell rang. I jumped, and Mrs. Saperstein moaned, then turned over. I scurried quietly on tiptoes to the front door, and I looked through the peephole as the doorbell rang again. A handsome young Hispanic man in a blue and gray doorman’s uniform stood outside with his hat in his hand. He looked nervously up and down the hallway, then reached for the bell again. I opened the door quickly, trying to stop him from waking Mrs. Saperstein. He took a step back when he saw me.
“Hi, I’m Joy, the Sapersteins’ dog-walker,” I said.
“Hello, I’m Julen, the doorman.” He turned his hat in his hands and looked down the hall again.
“Can I help you with something?” He looked back at me, his eyes large, brown and tortured.
“I need to talk with Jacquelyn,” he caught himself quickly, “Mrs. Saperstein.”
“She’s napping right now.”
“Is she OK?” he asked.
“I believe so,” I said.
“She is a very sensitive woman.” He caught himself again and, realizing he had said too much, turned and headed back toward the elevator.
Drinks With James, Again
“This is just shocking,” James said sitting across from me at the little table in his yard. Blue slept at our feet and Aurora was perched in the tree above us, pissed that Blue slept at our feet.
“Trust me, I know.”
“"I mean, you find a dead body, you know the guy, or at least his dog, then you find out the widow is having an affair, you meet the guy she is having the affair with.”
“That sums it up.” I sipped my mango margarita.
“Well, no, I forgot the part about you fucking Marcus. That was dumb.” He shook his head at me.
“I know that,” I said.
“Joy. I’m sorry. I can’t imagine how you feel,” he said, his tone softer now.
“I feel weird. Really, fucking weird.” I stared into my half-empty glass, hoping to find a better word than weird. None came.
“It’s awful,” James said.
“I feel—”I was trying to make him understand something I didn’t understand myself. “—my whole life has changed in the last week.”
“Is there anything I can do?” James asked, refilling my glass.
“Besides that? No, I don’t think so. I just need to put this behind me.”
“That seems to be the only option.”
I wondered if that was true.
“James?”
“Hmm?”
“I’m thinking something crazy here.”
“I like crazy. What’s up?”
“I've spent my whole life putting things behind me, right? I mean I've jumped from crappy job to crappy job, from crappy boyfriend to crappy boyfriend.”
“The crappy part is true, but I don’t know if that’s putting things behind you so much as moving forward.”
I cocked my head at him and wrinkled my brow.
“I would say it’s more like standing still.”
“I think you have made progress.”
“My point is, maybe I shouldn’t put this behind me. Maybe I should do something about this.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, but something. I mean this guy is dead.”
“That’s true.”
“And I knew him.”
“You knew his dog.”
“And maybe I could do something to help him.”
“He’s dead.”
“But what about—I don’ know. I just don’t think I can
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