Divine and Dateless (21 page)

One slice of cheesecake got us all kinds of goodies from the supermarket, including several months’ worth of super-absorbent tampons, kibbles, rawhides, and a big, soft dog bed. Oh, yes, and chocolate bars, too.

Since dogs were novelties in Purgatory, Jack was allowed to follow me inside the store where the butcher loaded me up with free scraps. We even got a complimentary lift from a friendly cabbie, who said Jack reminded him of a dog he’d lost as a child. It took hours to get to the store five blocks away and back again, mostly because every soul on level thirteen wanted to pet Jack, and my tail-wagging slobber bucket was more than happy to oblige.

Jack had always had that infectious charm. He’d helped me make a lot of friends when Mom had moved us to a new neighborhood. In fact, I’d been the most popular girl on the block until after his death. Everyone loved Jack and Jack loved everyone. How did I deserve such an awesome companion?

I still hadn’t figured out why he’d come back. Grim had said something about how some dogs had unfinished business. The whole time I should have been enjoying my long-lost best friend, I was obsessing over why he’d shown up at my door and how long he intended on staying. So since we’ve already established I was a selfish bitch, it should come as no surprise I secretly hoped Jack would stay with me forever.

Although Jack marked several lampposts and had left a big pile of private business right in the middle of the sidewalk, nobody seemed to mind. In fact, since I was laden with heavy grocery bags, some stranger even offered to pick up after him.

I still had a hard time adjusting to how friendly everyone was in Purgatory. I mean, there was friendly, and then there was creepy,
Twilight Zone
friendly, the kind of friendly that made me think these people probably had severed cat heads in their basements.

As soon as Jack and I got back to our apartment, I poured him a bowl of kibble and sat beside him. His tail wagged furiously as he scarfed down his food in record time. When he was finished, he gave me a big, sloppy thank-you kiss and curled up on the couch with me. I turned on the old karate movie I’d recorded and dug into my chocolate bar while I scratched behind his ears. I even let him have a few bites of my chocolate, that’s how much I loved him. It was a small sacrifice considering all he’d given up for me, the chance to reincarnate as a human, so he could be my best friend again.

On the morning of my eleventh birthday, Jack had woken me up, not with sloppy wet kisses and warm, furry hugs, but with a deadly silent fart. I thought about screaming as I plugged my nose, but I couldn’t let my mom know he was in my bed. I’d been sneaking him in at night for the past five years, and was afraid if she discovered me hiding him beneath my blankets, she’d move our secret staircase, aka rusty old picnic table, out from under my bedroom window.

“Jackie!” I fanned my face. “Why did you do that?”

He licked me then and whimpered in my ear, so I opened the window and let him climb back outside. After leaving me a heaping pile of “happy birthday” in the backyard, he climbed back through my window and let me give him tummy scratches the rest of the morning. I guess he’d forgotten it was
my
special day, not his.

My fault for spoiling him. It was like this every day for us. He was my best friend and I was his. As soon as I got off the bus, and all weekend long, I was sneaking him table scraps in my pockets, throwing his ball, and giving him scratches. And he repaid me with lots of licks, affection and undying loyalty. He’d even scared away a bully once who’d called me a stupid dog girl and thrown rocks at me. Within the blink of an eye, my sweet loveable Lab had morphed into a ferocious beast and chased that kid all the way down the block. The bully never bothered me again.

I preferred his company to hanging out with my friends. My mom and sister said it was unhealthy to spend so much time with a dog, but middle school kids were mean, anyway.

After playing all morning with Jack in my room, it was starting to become clear my mom had forgotten my birthday. Or maybe she hadn’t forgotten. Maybe she just wasn’t in the mood to celebrate. It probably had something to do with the fact that the six-year anniversary of Uncle Mikey’s death was the day before my birthday, and the one-year anniversary of my Grandma’s death was the day after.

Yeah, my special event was sandwiched between the two most depressing days of my mom’s life. Talk about fate crapping all over my happy cloud. Maybe I was too young and self-centered to understand the depth of my mom’s depression. Maybe it was wrong of me to have expected at least a card or a cake.

By mid-afternoon, it was clear I’d get neither, so my big sister turned on the oven and enlisted the help of Betty Crocker. She fed me Spaghetti-Os and then let me help her frost my cake.

Jack was happy he got to lick the spoon and bowl. He barked and wagged his tail while my sister sang “Happy Birthday” to me. He also got his own slice of cake and ice cream.

By the time we finished celebrating, my mom had emerged from her bedroom. Her hair was a mess, her skin was hanging off her bones, and she had heavy circles under her eyes. She’d lost so much weight over the years, I was secretly afraid she was dying, too.

She had this look of horror when she saw us sitting there with frosting on our faces. She let out this garbled cry that almost sounded as if she was choking. At first, I thought she was angry with me for giving Jack a plate. But then she fell into a chair beside me, covering her face with her hands and sobbing that she was a terrible mother. Nothing my sister or I could do or say would get her to stop crying.

And then Jack did something totally unexpected. My big horse of a Lab put his front paws on her chest and started licking her senseless. At first she tried to shoo him away, and when that didn’t work, her sobs turned into laughter. We were all laughing hard by the end of the night. In fact, Mom readily gave him a second serving of cake and ice cream. She let me have seconds, too, and then she promised me we’d go out for a real celebration in a few days, but I told her not to worry. My small birthday celebration was more than enough.

The following year, Jack was hit by a truck a week after my birthday. After that I didn’t want to celebrate my special day anymore, so we didn’t, though mom usually gave me a small present and my sister always baked me a cake, neither of them said what it was for.

On my thirteenth birthday, I picked at the frosting before throwing my cake in the garbage. Then I took a slice into the backyard and set it on top of the shallow grave my mom had dug for Jack. I silently sang “Happy Birthday” to myself and pretended he was barking along with me. I did that every year until I moved away from home. And every birthday after that, I took a faded photograph of me hugging Jack’s neck out of my wallet and kissed it. I told him how much I missed him before putting that picture back inside my wallet where it would stay safe and secure until the next birthday.

I’d never forgotten my best friend, and as I lay snuggled next to him on that lumpy mattress in my crappy Purgatory apartment, listening to the sound of his ragged breathing, I was so grateful he hadn’t forgotten me.

“Hi, Ashley. How are you feeling today?” My boss wheezed out his question as he hovered above me.

“Great, now that I’ve got my best friend.” I pulled the headphones off my ears and craned my neck to look up at him while impatiently tapping my fingers on my desk. Whatever he wanted, I hoped he wouldn’t keep me long. I couldn’t believe there were one thousand prayer requests in my inbox. How did they expect a newbie to handle so many cases?

I’d finally gotten rid of all of my colleagues, as they’d been swarming my cubicle like bees to honey as soon as I showed up with Jack. My dog helped me make new office friends, including Rayline, Merissa, Nessa, and Sheila from a few cubicles over. He gladly gave them all licks hello while thumping his heavy tail on the carpet. Because of all the commotion, it had taken me a bit longer to get settled.

Mr. Dallin made a strange walrus-like grunting sound as he bent down on one knee and patted Jack on the head. “Hi, buddy.” “Mr. Dallin,” I said with a beaming smile, “This is Jack, the most loyal dog in all of Purgatory.” Jack offered his paw when my boss asked him to shake. Then he leaned in and planted a sloppy kiss on his mouth. “He likes you.” I giggled.

Mr. Dallin made a face and wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve. “I had a collie back on Earth. Seeing your dog makes me miss her.”

“I’ve missed Jack for seventeen years.” I scratched the back of his head before stroking each silky ear with the pad of my thumb. “Now that he’s back, I’m not letting him out of my sight,” I said as I smiled down at him.

Funny, how I’d done more smiling that morning than I’d probably done all year. Jack’s good nature must have been contagious, because I was just so darned happy with him by my side, maybe even happier than I’d been during my one night in Heaven.

Mr. Dallin made this weird phlegmy sound, and I wasn’t sure if he was clearing his throat or getting ready to expunge a lung. “That’s what I came to talk to you about.” He averted his gaze, his cheeks flushing a dark crimson. “Barbara at cubicle seventeen has severe asthma. She says your dog is making her sick.”

Cubicle seventeen was at least four water coolers, a break room, and two bathrooms away. I only knew where it was because, apparently, the ditzy twins had a crush on a guy in cubicle sixteen, and all morning they’d been trying to come up with excuses to walk in that direction.

I sat ramrod straight and narrowed my gaze. “She’s over at the other end of the building.”

He scratched the back of his balding scalp and shuffled his feet. “Yeah, but she’s saying she’s very allergic.”

“Bullshit.” The word came out before I had a chance to take it back, not that I would have taken it back, anyway. I was fuming, and not just because I was majorly PMSing, although I suspected my crazy hormones probably had something to do with my short temper. There was no damn way she’d get sick from that far away. I didn’t know this Barbara person, but for some reason, she was trying to shit all over my happy cloud. Well, guess what? She’d picked the wrong dog if she wanted to start a brawl. No woman in Heaven, Hell, or anywhere in-between could out-bitch me.

“Ashley.” Mr. Dallin scowled down at me and waved a disapproving finger. “We don’t allow swearing in our family.”

Attitude locked and loaded. Ready. Aim. Fire. “Oh, but you allow lying?”

“I’m sorry, Ashley,” he said on a heavy sigh, “but I’m going to have to ask you to leave your dog at home from now on.”

“Leave my dog at home?” Clenching my fists by my sides, I slowly rose from my seat, never tearing my gaze from his sweaty, bald head. “Do you think he spent all this time in Purgatory waiting for me so he could spend each day alone in an apartment?”

He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped his forehead. “I’m sorry, Ashley, but my decision is final.”

I glared at him, waiting for him to change his answer, but coward that he was, he stepped away and turned his back on me.

“Fine, then,” I yelled. “I quit. This job sucks anyway.”

Jack leaned against my leg, whimpering, as Mr. Dallin spun around and charged, his face turning a brighter red than an over-ripe apple.

“You can’t quit without permission from your creditor!” He wagged a finger in my face.

Dozens of heads popped up from their cubicles, like little prairie dogs on the alert. All eyes in the place were on us now, watching Mr. Dallin make a complete ass of himself while he treated me unfairly. Oh, joy. Just what I needed, every worker in the Prayer Call Center to witness my humiliation.

“Oh, really?” I ripped the headphones off my neck and threw them on the floor. “Watch me.” I grabbed Jack’s leash off my desk and clipped it to his collar. “Come on, boy,” I said as I tugged him out of the cubicle. He whimpered, but quickly fell in line. I hated making him feel uneasy, but I didn’t have much of a choice.

“Ashley,” Mr. Dallin said with a touch of sadness in his wheezy voice. “I wish you’d reconsider.”

Really? Reconsider what? Locking my dog away in an apartment the size of a sardine can? I’d seen public restrooms bigger than my place.