Mom would play with me during the day, and take me for short walks on the leash, but we did not feed the cats and did not go to the park.
When it was time for Lucas to stop doing Go to Work I could feel him coming home. I knew without smelling him that he was walking down the street toward the house, and I would go to the door and sit, waiting for him. When I felt him right there, I would start wagging, and a moment later I would smell him and hear his steps on the walk.
“I don’t know how, but she knows when you’re coming home,” Mom told Lucas. “She goes to the door and whimpers.”
“She probably just has my schedule memorized.”
“Honey, you don’t have your schedule memorized. You get out of work at a different time every day. No, she has a sixth sense about it.”
“Bella, the psychic dog of Denver,” Lucas said. I looked at him but saw no sign that him saying my name was going to lead to any treats.
*
Lucas was doing Go to Work and Mom was resting on the couch. Some days she moved around and took me for walks, and she would sing, her voice rising and falling in a way that was entirely different from talking. Recently, though, she did not do much more than lie on the couch. I would cuddle with her, feeling her love, but also some sadness.
I heard someone come up the front steps, though I smelled that it wasn’t anyone I had ever met. I could tell it was a man. I barked.
“No, Bella!” Mom scolded.
No? I did not understand the use of that word in this context.
I heard the high, clear chime of the bell that rang when someone was on the front porch. My job was to alert everyone that I had heard it, so I barked again.
“Bella! No! Bad dog.”
I regarded her in guilty dismay. Bad dog? What had I done?
Mom opened the door slightly and I pressed my nose to the crack, sniffing and wagging my tail.
“Hey, babe.” A large man stood on the steps. His breath smelled of a strong chemical that stung my eyes a little, plus there was a nice bread odor clinging to his clothing.
I sensed Mom feeling unhappy, so I stopped wagging my tail so enthusiastically.
“How did you find me?” Mom asked.
“You going to ask me in, Terri?”
“Okay, but I was just headed out.”
“Whoa, big dog! What’s his name?”
“She. Her name is Bella.”
“Hey, Bella!” He squatted and almost stumbled as he reached for me, putting one hand on the carpet. His hand rubbed the top of my head.
Mom’s arms were folded. “I’m not sure why you’re here.”
“I’m spontaneit-ous.”
“Are you drunk or something, Brad? Something else?”
“What? Nah.”
“Look at me.”
The man stood up.
Mom shook her head, looking disgusted. “You’re stoned out of your mind.”
“Maybe a little.” The man laughed. He shambled into the living room, glancing around. Mom watched him coldly. “Look,” he began, “I’ve been thinking a lot about us. I feel like we made a mistake. I miss you, babe. I think we should give it another shot. Neither one of us are any younger.”
“I’m not talking to you when you’re like this. Ever.”
“Like what? Like what?”
The man had raised his voice and I flinched from it. Mom put her hands on her hips. “Don’t start. I don’t want to fight. I just need you to leave.”
“I’m not leaving until you give me one good reason why you dumped me.”
“Oh, God.”
“You look good, Terri. Come here.” He smiled.
“No.” Mom started to back away from the man.
“I mean it. Do you know how often I think about us? We were good together, babe. Do you remember, that time, we checked into that hotel in Memphis…”
“No. Stop.” Mom shook her head. “We were not good together. I was not myself with you.”
“You were never more yourself than with me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“Okay, I came here to tell you these compliments and you’re acting like a bitch.”
“Please leave.”
He looked around the room. “Not bad. Looks like your son’s back to living with you?” He squinted his eyes. “Maybe he needs a man-to-man talk about growing up and not depending on his mommy for everything.”
Mom sighed. “Oh, Brad, what you’re suggesting is so wrong in so many ways.”
“Really? You want him to wind up like his father? Dead behind a liquor store somewhere? Yeah, you probably don’t remember telling me that. You forget what bad shape you were in when I found you,” he said with a leer. “You owe me.”
“That’s what you think? I owe you nothing. You are nothing, nothing to me, nothing to the world.”
“I don’t feel respected here. You know what I’m saying? You got no right to treat me with disrespect. Not after what we done together. What I know.”
“You have to leave now!” Mom’s voice was loud and angry. I lowered my eyes, hoping she wasn’t mad at me, but then looked up in alarm when the man reached out and grabbed Mom by her arms.
Five
“Stop it!” Mom yelled, her voice so harsh I barked. I was terrified. She and the man stumbled against the wall together and something fell with the crash of breaking glass. I cowered away from it.
I heard a thud and the man grunted and backed away, bent over, and Mom went after him, her hands making dull sounds as they struck his face. She whirled and kicked him and he staggered. “You bitch!” he screamed at her. He flailed and she grabbed his arm and twisted it and stomped his legs and he toppled to the floor. I stopped barking. “God, Terri,” he wheezed. He was radiating fury and pain. He held his wrist in his hand. I smelled his blood and a trickle of it leaked from his lip and down his jaw.
“No, don’t try to stand up, if you stand up I will hurt you,” Mom warned angrily.
The man stared at her.
“You need to leave,” Mom told him.
“You broke my wrist.”
“No, I didn’t. I could have, but I didn’t.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
“No, you’re in my house and if you ever come near me again, I will kill you,” she said furiously. “Now get out. No, I said don’t stand up! Crawl. Go on. Do it before I change my mind.”
I watched, baffled, as the man made his way on his hands and knees to the front door. I went to sniff him, but Mom snapped, “No, Bella!” so I cringed and sat down. I knew I had done something to make her mad at me.
“I’m going to vomit,” the man choked.
“Not here. Get going.”
The man reached the front door and opened it, lurching to his feet as he did so. He turned back and started to say things to Mom, but she went to the door and shoved it closed. I could hear him fall on the front steps, but then he was weaving across the yard, and his smell drifted away.