Second Chance - Elizabeth Wrenn

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But there she was, safe and sound, not at the bottom, but at the top, just finishing up a nice little pee.

      Heloise woke me again at six forty. I’d finally drifted off in Sam’s bed sometime around three, after locating the carpet foam and working on her pee spot. Still, I managed to spring out of bed when she started whining, not wanting her to wake the household again. Holding her in my arms, I stepped around the spot, which I’d marked with three of Sam’s old summer league swimming trophies as stanchions, positioned equidistantly around the circle. The gold figurines, each bent at the waist, hands behind them, looked ready to dive into the pee spot.

      Downstairs, I clicked on Heloise’s leash, quickly slipping my feet into Matt’s boots again. We stepped outside. It was no warmer out, despite the rosy eastern horizon. Finally she lowered her haunches, and I sleepily told her to do her business, praising her as she did. When she finished, I lifted her under her front armpits, her little body hanging below so any little drips could air-dry as I carried her into the house.

      In the kitchen, I scooped two cups of puppy chow into her stainless steel bowl on the counter, as she manically jumped at my legs and against the cabinets. ‘No, Heloise. Down.’ Damn. Chapter one said not to say ‘No’ or ‘Down.’ Down was solely for lying down. I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to say instead of ‘No,’ and frankly, ‘No!’ pretty much covered my feelings on the matter.

      I’d gotten her too soon. I hadn’t studied enough. I was in over my head. There was a puppy meeting that night, but the day stretched out miserably between then and now. Already my body ached with lack of sleep.

      I grabbed Heloise under one arm and put her bowl on the floor. She was flailing wildly, so I positioned her about two feet away. ‘Easy now, girl. Wait. Wait.’ I slowly let go and she shot toward her food, her mouth gulping before it even touched the mound of nuggets.

      I stepped to the refrigerator, grabbed the egg carton, thinking my family deserved pancakes this morning, given all of Heloise’s noise last night. But by the time I put the eggs on the counter, Heloise had already finished her breakfast. I looked at the microwave clock. Almost seven. I was behind schedule. The kids would be down for their breakfast any minute.

      Think and they shall yell. Right at that moment, Lainey hollered from upstairs, ‘Mom! Why are Sam’s swim trophies on— Ewww! Never mind! I think I know. The dog wee-weed here, didn’t she?!’

      ‘Just step around it, honey,’ I yelled. It was then I heard the preliminary retching. I spun around. Heloise looked like she was studying one particular square of tile intently, her little rib cage squeezing in and out. Then, in one enormous spasm, up came her breakfast, just as Lainey was walking into the kitchen.

      ‘Oh, God! Oh, how gross! Oh –my–God!’ She pivoted, her pink puffy slippers scuffing back up the stairs, her complaints continuing to drift down. ‘Oh, gag me, why don’t you! First this, then that. Why did we get a stupid—’ Her bedroom door slammed.

      I looked down at Heloise again; she was enthusiastically reconsuming her breakfast. I turned away. I figured she couldn’t be too sick if she was so eagerly eating it again, but I thought I might be sick. I stood at the sink, my hands gripping the counter. I looked out the window at the new day starting as I listened to the happy smacks behind me.

      I couldn’t face food. I pulled out several boxes of cereal from the pantry and left them on the counter. The kids would have to fend for themselves this morning. I took Heloise upstairs with me.

      Neil was in our bathroom, shower on, door closed. I pulled our bedroom door shut and let Heloise roam. I’d put safety plugs in all the empty sockets and otherwise baby-proofed the bedroom, so I knew she was safe. Plus, she’d peed less than twenty minutes ago. I pulled on my jeans and a sweatshirt. I found my sneakers and was sitting on the edge of the bed tying the second one when Neil emerged from the bathroom in his robe, a towel around his neck.

      ‘Hey. Where’d you sleep?’

      I stared at him, then said, ‘I took Heloise into Sam’s room so she wouldn’t bother you all night. Remember?’

      He ran the towel over his ear and wet hair. ‘Not really. Where’s the dog now?’ He said ‘the dog’ like the words were large cotton balls rolling out of his mouth. But he was smiling.

      I pointed. ‘She’s right there.’ Heloise was emerging from our small walk-in closet where she’d been exploring. She looked up, saw Neil, and I swear to God she smiled as she ran to him, her wagging rump making her course across the bedroom floor zigzag slightly. She jumped at his ankles, begging for his touch.

      ‘Hello,’ he said, tentatively reaching down to her. She happily wrapped her teeth around his finger in greeting.

      ‘Ow!’ He jerked his finger back, straightening.

      I dashed over and picked her up. ‘Sorry. She must be teething. I’ll take her into the bathroom with me so you can dress.’

      Neil glared, massaging his finger.

      Safely in the bathroom, I closed the door. I set her on the damp bath rug, which I immediately had to pull from her mouth. I put it in the tub, and she turned her attention to sniffing the floor. I had just started brushing my teeth when Neil yelled.

      ‘Jesus H. Christ!’

      I opened the door, toothbrush still in my mouth, and saw Neil, white-faced in the closet. His right hand gripped the hanger bar. His robe had come undone; his temper was not far behind. His right ankle was propped against his opposite knee in a kind of sideways flamingo pose. A small, smashed brown pile was on the floor under him. The rest was between his toes. A foul odor filled the room.

      ‘Oh, Neil! I’m so sorry. I took her out just a few minutes ago. She— I—’

      ‘Could you get me something to wipe this mess on, please?’ he said evenly, his face now filling with color.

      ‘Oh! Yes! Sorry.’ Careful to keep Heloise confined, I darted back into the bathroom and emerged with a roll of toilet paper. I unwound a wad and began to pull the mess off his foot. He grabbed it from me, doing the job himself. He dropped the tissue onto the pile and hopped, an angry pogo stick, into the bathroom. I followed him, grabbed Heloise, and retreated. The door slammed behind us and I listened as the tub faucets came on.

      I looked at the poop and sighed. This was not turning out to be what I had pictured. I was beginning to wonder what I had pictured. Me and puppy rolling around in a flower-filled meadow. Me and puppy out in the world. Me and puppy creating a whole new life for me. Basically, a TV commercial.

      It occurred to me, as I stood holding the contented Heloise in my arms, that any commercial that uses an adorable little puppy to sell their product should be required to also show dog poop oozing through the toes of an angry spouse. And if we’re going for truth in advertising, then ads with cute little babies should also show complicated, remote teenagers. Or the empty bed of a son who left for college and has barely been heard from since.

      Everyone should have to tell the ending, if they’re going to lure you with a beginning.

       NINE

      Neil left for work without another word to me. The kids had also made a hasty departure, walking the six blocks to school. They usually begged me to drive them. I usually did. But this morning, they’d dashed out without a word.

      Now it was just me and Heloise. She was sniffing around the kitchen. I was sitting at the desk, staring sightlessly ahead, my hands wrapped gratefully around a mug of coffee. Heloise made her way over to the baby gate I’d put across the entrance to the living room. The other entrance to the kitchen, the front hallway, had a door, which was now securely closed. I’d found out the hard way that Heloise could push open doors if they weren’t fully latched. She’d nosed her way out of our bedroom, and I’d had a few panicked moments looking for her, again worried she might fall down the stairs. I’d

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