“But have you been to the pet store?”
It’s a Saturday and the mall is crowded. As soon as they go into the pet store, however, Shelby feels at home.
“It smells like hamsters,” Shelby’s mom says. Sue has a good nose, that’s for sure. They head toward the fish department, which is less offensive.
“Remember when I had a Siamese fighting fish?” Shelby says. She was ten years old at the time.
Her mom remembers. “Jackie Kennedy.”
“That was a crazy name.”
They’re in front of a huge tank of angelfish.
“They’ve never cut Helene’s hair,” Sue says. “Did you know that? Not since she was seventeen. It reaches all the way to the floor. It’s still a beautiful color.”
There’s a big black and white angelfish over on the side by itself. Shelby can tell something’s wrong with it by the way it’s tilting. If this were her store, she’d separate it from the others.
“I asked her mom why they haven’t cut it short so it will be more manageable and she said Helene always liked it long. She brushes it for Helene twice a day.”
“Helene always said her mother didn’t listen to her. She wanted to get a tattoo of a horse on her arm. She probably would have cut her hair short and dyed it blue if she’d been the one who lived and I was in a coma.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be you,” her mom says. “You were supposed to live.”
“Because I’m living such a brilliant fucking life?”
Shelby’s voice cracks, so she moves on, to the goldfish. She hates goldfish.
Shelby’s mother follows her. “Because you’re such a good person, Shelby.”
“I’m nothing, Mom! Don’t you understand that? You gave birth to a nothing!”
Sue moves toward her. At first Shelby thinks she’s going to slap her again, but instead Sue throws her arms around her. “Love of my life,” she says.
A group of kids head down the aisle, so Shelby and Sue move away from each other.
“Stop making me cry.” Shelby wipes her eyes.
They stroll arm in arm through the pet food section.
“I wish I’d gone to Italy,” Sue says. “I always wanted to do that. And I wanted to live in California. Maybe not forever. Just to try it. A cottage on a beach.”
“Really?” Shelby is surprised. She cannot imagine her mother in California.
“And I wish I’d had more sex before I married your father.”
“Mom!”
“I’m telling you these things so you won’t make the same mistakes I did.”
“I already have,” Shelby informs her. “And more.”
“But you have time. You can still do everything, Shelby.”
They are in Shelby’s least favorite section. Puppies.
“Let’s stop.” Sue leans on the railing. There are two pugs and a little poodle and a dopey-looking golden retriever. “I always wanted a dog, but your dad was against it.”
“Why did you always do what he said?”
“What makes you think I did?”
They both laugh. Shelby’s dad is kind of clueless. He’s probably sitting in the same spot where they left him with Blinkie on his lap. Maybe he’s talking to his girlfriend on the phone.
“I was in love once,” Sue says. “My college roommate’s brother. I was at Wellesley. But he was too much for me. I didn’t know if I could measure up in their family. They were all somebodies.”
“So you picked a nobody?”
“I already knew your father from high school. He was working in his father’s store. I’d see him when I came home during vacations. We weren’t a match, but I thought he was loyal and decent. Maybe I was afraid to go for real love. Don’t do what I did,” Sue says.
“Okay,” Shelby says.
“I mean it. Don’t feel bad about Ben. I let my life happen. I don’t want that for you.” Sue is becoming distraught. “Don’t take the easy way.”
“Okay.” Shelby crosses her heart with her hand. “I’ll do it the hard way.”
“This isn’t a joke!” Sue says.
“Mom, I promise.”
A salesgirl spies them watching the puppies and comes over. “Want to see one?”
“The fuzzy one,” Sue says.
Shelby doesn’t have the heart to say no. Her mom sounds like a little girl.
The salesgirl gets the poodle out of its cage. It’s wriggly and excited.
“He is so cute,” the salesgirl says.
She dumps the poodle into Sue’s arms, and the dog leaps up to lick Sue’s face.
“This isn’t sanitary,” Shelby declares. “They say dogs don’t have germs in their mouths, but they do. They lick their own asses.”
“Oh, Shelby, stop looking at all the negatives. He is adorable. Hey, buddy,” Sue croons. The poodle is white with a tiny black nose. “Little bitty buddy.”
Shelby knows a sucker when she sees one. Her mother is falling for the poodle.
“He can fit in a tote bag so you can take him everywhere,” the salesgirl blathers. “You can take him to the supermarket.”
“We’re not interested,” Shelby tells her.