11
Laurel
Marley barks up a storm that’s going to get us kicked out despite the non-eviction notices. Our scruffy little dog is named after my mother’s favorite brand of smokes. The damn dog is lucky if he weighs a pound, but he packs a mean ankle bite if you aren’t careful. Our biggest family secret is that Marley is a fake emotional support animal. When our neighbor down the hall, Mr. Totter complained to our super, Ma forced me to use my graphic design skills to design a convincing certificate instead of taking the tiny beast to actual classes we couldn’t afford anyway. The little snapper was going to be my undoing with his constant barking. I figured he sort of owed me some kind of allegiance or a pass considering my handy artwork saved his scruffy ass.
“Ugh, I’m coming, you tiny terror.” I crawl out of bed and fumble for joggers and shoes.
“Laurel!”
“Coming Ma.” Despite it being the four of us, the place felt like Grand Central station trying to navigate all of us home. My only reprieve was taking Marley out for his walk which was more of a jog between sidewalk trees and garbage cans to pee.
“Can you?”
“Got it.” I grab his leash and watch my hands hooking it to his harness. Lavender barely gives me a glance but she’s been pissed at me since our fight because she went on that date. No one has gotten symptoms yet, but the party she went to also got broken up by the police early on. I figure she’ll be mad until this stay-at-home situation relents and that’s on her.
I slip my phone into my pocket and make my way outside adjusting my mask. I don’t have any spare gloves so I’m careful opening our apartment building door and head outside. With so many less people milling about and commuting to work, the streets are clear. The garbage smell seems more bearable and there’s noticeably less trash except for the addition of gloves someone carelessly dumped missing the can. It’s aggravating, but I take my wins where I can and tug Marley away from trying to smell them.
It’s a lucky thing that the sun is shining. The past week felt like never ending gloom of grey skies and damp rain. I heard a neighbor joke we were experiencing a London spring and I tried to take heart in that, but it’s hard when you can’t go anywhere and it all seems like a bad dream.
Turning around the corner of our building, a chirping clicking sound has me straining my neck to glance up. Mickey the squirrel sits on our fire escape beady eyes cast my way and an accusing glare I’m with the dog. “Sorry buddy, I’ll be back in a bit.”
I don’t know if it’s weird I’m talking to squirrels but it’s better than my sister’s grunts and Hannah’s whining. I’ll have to find something to toss Mickey’s way. Marley keeps pace and we cross the street to a small, empty park.
My phone buzzes against my thigh and I take a look at the caller ID. It’s Van and like a school girl I smile answering the call.
“Hello, Mr. Ward.” My voice drops an octave and while it’s not my intent to sound like a sex phone operator, I cringe because that’s exactly what I sound like.
Van laughs and I know he’s taking this in stride as much as I am.
“And how is your day, sweetheart?”
I move my mask off my face since it’s just Marley and me. “Oh the usual escape from Alcatraz. My sister and niece are bickering and Ma turns up the TV in the living room to an unbearable volume forcing me to take Marley for a walk.” I stroll in the park watchful of a couple on the opposite end with their German Shepard. We smile awkwardly and pass by one another observing the rules.
“That sounds like a lot.”
I sigh. Being a true introvert, the constant stimulus of people non-stop grates on my nerves.
“It is, but I’ll manage. Marley keeps me moving.” I point the camera at Marley who is tugging me along. I can hear Van even though he’s not visible.
“Hey, come back pretty girl. I don’t want to see dog butt.”
“Oh sorry.” For some reason that has me blushing.
“Let’s have dinner tonight.”
“What? No.”
“Not like that…I meant what we’ve been doing, except I’ll send over take out. We’ll eat the same thing and have some wine and dessert.”
“Oh I see. Does this dinner date have a time and a dress code?”
“Sure. Let’s say six o’clock and dress up in whatever you like that’s not pajamas.”
“I’m insulted you have a thing against Captain Marvel leggings.”
“I think jealous is what you’re looking for, you little tease. Be ready for contactless delivery at six.” Van winks and ends the call leaving me speechless.
What the hell does one wear to a fancy dinner date at home?
“Come on Marley, we need to snap Lavender out of her snit so she can slut me up for later.” Marley barks at me and turns back to head home.
“Can you please stop pacing, you’re making me ill.” Six o’clock comes a lot quicker than I anticipate and Lavender is still mad at me despite tossing one of her better dresses my way.
“I can’t help it.”
“Let her stew, Lavender. This boy seems charming. How did you meet?”
“Yeah, how did you meet?” Lavender’s tone is sarcastic like she’s accusing me of breaking the rules when she knows breaking anything gives me hives. I gulp back my nerves. I’m not sure I want to explain a dating app gone awry nor does saying at work fit the bill. Either way, my judgy hypocrite sister will have something snarky to say.
“We met at…”
Before I can finish, Hannah swipes my phone and squeals, “On the phone, mommy.”
“And there it is.” I mumble outed by a seven-year-old who doesn’t know any better.
“Huh. The phone.” Lavender shakes her head like that’s the worst thing I could have done. I don’t bother explaining and snatch my phone back from Hannah sticking it in my dress pocket.
Knocking at the door saves me with a full-blown commotion before I can answer it. Marley starts barking like crazy and wiggling between my legs. I push him back into Lavender’s hold and scramble to unlock the door barefoot in my dress.
“Marley!” All four of us yell at the dog who escapes the second I crack the door open.
Our thieving neighbor shouts, “That’s my food!”
Marley tries to chase the delivery guy who runs down the stairs uninterested in which door he left the food.
“Hey!” I yell into the hallway grabbing the dog by his scruff. Mr. Totter has stolen my dinner, the grouchy jerk slams his door shut and I hear him slid the chain lock in place. As if I’d do anything more besides cry a little. Marley looks pleased after almost getting a chunk out of the delivery guy. My phone rings. Marley licks my face and I think I understand a little better why animals try escaping the moment you open the door to freedom. What I wouldn’t give for a tiny bit of freedom right now, but that’s not happening.
“Come on buddy.” I bring him inside and answer Van’s call.
“I got the text confirmation of delivery, are you ready?” His excitement is palatable through the phone and sweet.