Never Always Sometimes

“Technically, we’ve started.” Gretchen extended her arms outward, as if presenting them with a new world. “Yaaaay,” she said, poking just enough fun at herself for Julia to feel a shift starting to take place. Julia was starting to like Gretchen, and it shouldn’t have been a problem. It should have been great, all the more reason to be happy for Dave. But it was a problem, one that caused her throat to dry up. “Actually, I know the best way to break you guys into this,” Gretchen said. “And I’ll admit, this isn’t exactly within the normal mall-ratting activity. But it’s my favorite thing to do, especially on days when I’m feeling a little down.”

 

 

She took them to the food court and ordered a single ice-cream cone, not allowing them to get their own. Then she led them toward the escalators down to the first floor, only licking away the drops that threatened to drip onto her hand. A little kid in front of them dangled his shoelaces near the gap at the edge of the escalator stairs while his mom stared at her phone, her free hand gripping his like that was all there was to parenting. Julia caught Gretchen shaking her head. They walked past what seemed to be the same exact athletic shoe store replicated in three different spots, then entered the pet store that was tucked away in the corner.

 

It was a sad place, puppies in glass cages, frolicking as much as they could, trying to avoid little puddles of pee they’d left behind. Some yipped happily, some whimpered, some looked defeated and just stared through the glass as if they’d given up. A mutt with short brown fur lay on its front paws, looking up at Julia with big, sad eyes that reminded her of Dave’s. She looked over at Dave peering into the dog’s cage and felt the urge to throw her arms around his neck, which was silly.

 

An employee came by, a tall and lanky guy with a slouch and a pronounced Adam’s apple. Gretchen asked him if she could pet a dog. The guy shrugged, probably bored, his mind rotting away inside the depressing pet store all day.

 

“This one!” Julia said, pointing at the scruffy brown puppy, desperate for the dog’s warmth, for something to touch. “If I’d known puppy-holding was involved in mall-ratting I might have been more receptive,” she said, taking the dog in her arms.

 

“Just you wait,” Gretchen said, stepping up to Julia. “This might feel weird at first. Just trust me.” She reached out and dipped the ice-cream cone against Julia’s nose.

 

“What the hell?” Julia forced a laugh. Dave stood behind Gretchen, his head tilted.

 

Gretchen just smiled, and within a second or two the mutt had sniffed out the ice cream and was licking Julia’s nose enthusiastically. Julia laughed, which resulted in the dog trying to slip her some tongue, so she turned her head to the side a little to avoid the kisses but keep the whole nose-licking thing going. “I’m so happy right now,” Julia said, feeling better, though there was nothing she should have been feeling better from.

 

“Just looking at what’s happening is making me happier than I’ve been in years,” Dave said. “Seriously, years.”

 

Even the lanky employee cracked a smile. The three of them took turns passing the dog to each other, then touching the increasingly melting ice-cream cone to their noses. To keep the dog from getting sick from all the ice cream, and because the other locked-up dogs seemed to be in ravenous fits of jealousy, the employee took away the Dave-looking mutt and brought a few other ones: twin golden retrievers, a spotted pit bull, something that looked less like a dog and more like a gremlin. They kept going until the ice cream was nothing but a puddle dripping through the bottom of the soggy cone.

 

They left the pet store mildly dazed, smiles still plastered on their faces. “Touché,” Julia said. “I’m going to do that from now on. Always. Every day of my life.”

 

Dave, standing close to Gretchen, gave her a little shoulder bump. “What else you got?”

 

“Cue the montage,” Julia said, a bit too sarcastically, that unexpected jealousy almost giving rise to anger.

 

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