LITMIR.BIZ

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never have gotten married. We didn’t want any of the same things. I never wanted that house on Lehigh Terrace. He never wanted a dog.” Fred began to move again, and Nina felt the tension ease out of her shoulders as she watched the miscellaneous collection of independent canine parts that was Fred move past her on his way to the couch. “I always wanted a dog. And now I have Fred.”

      Fred sniffed the couch again. He’d sniffed it several times since he’d arrived, but now he made a decision. His haunches quivered and tensed as he crouched, and then with a mighty leap he flung himself onto the overstuffed cushions, hanging there for a long moment, a triumph of hope over biology, only to slide slowly back to the floor and land with a soft thud as his butt failed to achieve lift-off.

      He took it pretty well, considering.

      Charity looked at her as if she were demented. “And you’re going to run up and down the stairs twenty-six times a night to water this animal, right? And what about during the day? You work, for God’s sake. I can just see Jessica’s face if you bring Fred into the office.” She shook her head, and her red ringlets bounced as they swung back and forth. “You’re nuts. I love you, but you’re nuts. Your divorce was just final, you’ve only been an editor for six months so there’s that stress and you’re settling into a new place. Why bring another headache into your life?”

      Nina sighed and sat down. “Speaking of headaches, Jessica gave me a new book to work on. It’s worse than the last one.”

      Charity looked disgusted. “Is she trying to bankrupt that press? She needs to publish something with some oomph in it.”

      “No, she’s doing what her daddy did before her.” Nina watched Fred waddle over to them, the couch humiliation evidently forgotten. “She’s trying to keep the tradition going.”

      Charity nodded. “Right into the toilet. She might as well call it the Boring Press.”

      Nina closed her eyes. “I know it. The whole place is going to fold, and I’ll be out of work, and Jessica will kill herself because she’s brought the family institution to ruin. And I don’t know how to save it, so that depresses me. And I love this place, but it was lonely, and I was coming home so down about work and Jessica, and I just needed something warm to cheer me up.” She took a deep breath. “And that’s Fred. He’s already cheered me up. Just having him around cheers me up.”

      Charity watched Fred as his chin sank closer to the floor. “I can see how he’d do that. Peppy little fellow.”

      Nina ignored her. “And I have a plan for watering him. Come here.” She walked to the big window next to her couch and shoved up the heavy old windowpane. “See?”

      Charity followed her, and Nina gestured to the black metal fire escape outside.

      “The fire escape is only about a foot down from the window.” Nina stuck her head out. “This is the third floor, and the back is all fenced-in, and the gate is always closed except on trash day. So I’m going to train Fred to use the fire escape.” She pulled her head back in. “Isn’t that great?”

      Charity nodded, and then patted her arm. “That’s great, Neen. It really is.”

      “Don’t feel sorry for me.” Nina folded her arms across her stomach. “I’ve got everything I wanted. I was the one who left Guy, remember? I was the one who got fed up with the high life and living for his career. And it was the right thing to do. I love this apartment, and I love my job. It’s just—I get lonely.”

      “I know.” Charity nodded. “It’s okay. I know.”

      “I’m forty,” Nina said. “I know this is the prime of my life, I know this is when life begins, I’ve read all the articles, but I’m forty and I’m alone and—”

      “I know.” Charity put her arms around her and held her tight. “I know. You’re going to be okay.”

      Nina nodded against her friend’s shoulder. “I just wanted somebody to talk to at night and cuddle and watch old movies with. You know? So I got Fred.”

      Fred waddled back toward them.

      “Well, it’s a start.” Charity let go of Nina and looked at Fred. “What kind of dog is Fred?”

      “Part basset, part beagle, part manic-depressive.” Nina frowned down at him. “Fred, could you cheer up, please? Look at what a great place you’ve landed in.”

      “Yeah, and the best is yet to come,” Charity told him. “Wait till you see the fire escape she has for you.”

      Fred sighed and lumbered on, and they watched him cross the room, his toenails clicking on the hardwood, before Nina said to Charity. “I just need one little favor.”

      Charity nodded. “Sure.”

      “Could you baby-sit Fred for me while I go out and buy a leash and food? I’d take Fred, but he sticks his head out the car window, and the wind blows up his nose and makes him sneeze, and the dog snot flies back in the car.” Nina looked at Fred with love. “It’s pretty disgusting.”

      “I can imagine.” Charity picked up her purple suede bomber jacket. “No, I will not baby-sit this mutt for you. He looks like he’s going to end it all at any minute, and I don’t want to be responsible if he throws himself off the fire escape.” She looked down at Fred with resignation. “Make a list. I’ll go get him what he needs. Do they make uppers for dogs?”

      “He’s not really depressed,” Nina told her as she went to find a pad of paper to make the list. “He’s just deep. He has deep thoughts.”

      “Right. Deep thoughts.” Charity shook her head again. “Make that list. And while you’re at it, add Amaretto and ice cream to it.”

      Nina stopped her search for paper. Amaretto milk shakes could mean only one thing: a My-Life-Is-In-Trauma party. And with Charity, who ran her life as efficiently as she ran the boutique, trauma could mean only one thing. “Not Sean, too?”

      Charity nodded. “Sean, too. How do I do it? How can I live in a city full of men and always pick the rats?”

      Nina searched for something comforting to say. “Well, they’re not always rats.”

      “Oh, yeah?” Charity folded her arms. “Name the one who wasn’t.”

      “Well…” Nina searched her memory. “Of course, I didn’t know you for all of them—”

      “Twelve of them,” Charity said. “Twelve guys since I was sixteen, twelve significant guys since I was sixteen, twelve guys in twenty-two years, and I can’t come up with a winner.”

      “You’re sure it’s over?” Nina tried to find a bright side. “Maybe he’s just having second thoughts because you’re both getting so serious. Maybe—”

      “I caught him in bed with his secretary,” Charity said. “I don’t think she was taking dictation. Not with what she had in her hand.”

      “Oh.” Nina wrote down Amaretto and ice cream on the list. Amaretto milk shakes might not be the healthiest way to get over a life trauma, but it was Charity’s way. Come to think of it, she could use one, herself. “Get chocolate syrup, too,” she told Charity. “Let’s go for the whole enchilada.”

      While Charity went shopping, Nina and Fred practiced on the fire escape.

      “Come on, you can do this,” Nina coaxed him, and together they climbed in and out over the low polished wood windowsill.

      Fred was not crazy about the metal staircase, so Nina spread out a rag rug so he’d land on something soft.

      On the other hand, he loved the leap from the window.

      “Try not to overshoot,” Nina warned him, but the fire escape was wide, and Fred was not aerodynamic, so after an hour, Nina was content that Fred would not be plummeting to his death from overexuberance.

      She

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