Of Paws and Pet Rocks

Chapter 2

By the time I got home, it was seven in the evening, and my feet and back ached. I lived in a tiny studio apartment ten miles from my job at Pet Store Universe. While I loved animals, my lease didn’t allow for them, and the place was too small to take care of one, anyway. Instead, I had pet rocks.

The upside of this was my “pets” didn’t need to be fed, cleaned, trimmed or told to stop chewing my shoes—and they would never die. The only attention they ever needed was a new painted persona from time to time, typically miniature dog and cat motifs. Hey, it was a thing. I used them as stress release from the inane and crazy pet owners that hounded me—so to speak—regularly.

The downside was a lack of true companionship. Still, I got to see my furry babies, as I liked to think of them, at work, and on Saturdays when I volunteered at a pet shelter. That would have to do until I could get out from under the crushing debt my ex left me with and move into a bigger space. Word to the wise…Don’t ever have a joint anything with a sociopath.

My cell phone rang as I stepped out of the shower fifteen minutes later. I wrapped a towel around my waist and ran to the bed to grab the mobile out of my pants pocket.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Barry!” It was my baby sister, the pest.

“Trixie, you called me this morning before work. Nothing’s changed since then.”

“Don’t be like that, brother mine. I’m just worried about you.” And her worry would be the death of me.

“I’m doing the best I can, under the circumstances.”

“You’ve been saying that for almost two years now. Have you eaten, yet? Why don’t you come over for dinner? Sid and I are having lasagna, and that silly mutt Macy misses you. The baby wants to see his uncle and I really think you should—”

“Trixie! Take a breath, hon.” It was always this way with her. Sidney Mason had been a saint to marry such a headstrong chatterbox, though she was the sweetest chatterbox on the planet.

“It’s too late for me to come over now, and I just got out of the shower. Rain check, okay? Maybe Friday night? I’ll bring a new toy for Macy.”

“Are you sure? I don’t think you’re taking care of yourself. And that asshole prick Winslow deserves to be sawn in half for what he did to you. What a user! He leaves you with these huge bills and a mortgage…Have you sold the house yet, by the way? You know, if I ever corner him in a dark alley, I’ll rip—”

“All right, okay!” Trixie was like a dog with a bone. And the idea of her tiny frame taking on my ex-boyfriend was like a Chihuahua with a Great Dane. A Chihuahua with the heart of an Akita.

“I get it, you’ll tear him limb from limb with your itty bitty bare hands. I love you, too. No, I haven’t sold the house yet. The market sucks, as you well know. I’ve consolidated all my bills into a monthly payment, and I eat what’s cheap. I’m as okay as I can be, so stop worrying. I’ll see you on Friday, okay? Give Sid my love.”

“Love you, big brother!” She made kissing sounds and then hung up. I sometimes wondered if Trixie was actually the elder sibling, not me. She may seem flighty to others, but my sister had her s**t together, whereas I limped along from day to day.

I dressed in an old T-shirt and shorts and went to the kitchen. Dinner tonight would be spaghetti and tomato sauce. As I prepared my meal, I thought back to when I’d met Winslow Dansing. The perfect specimen of a man, he’d breezed into the grooming section of Pet Store Universe a little over three years ago and demanded immediate attention for his Persian cat, Smithers.

I remember telling Winslow that he had to wait his turn, just like all the others. Then he’d turned on the charm. That charm had led to a date that very evening, phenomenal s*x that night and moving into a house together in a couple of months. We’d had a mortgage, bank account, charge cards and the like in both our names. That joint everything was my downfall, because Winslow turned out to be a swindler of the highest order, and within a year, I was left with huge credit debt, an empty bank account, and a two hundred thousand dollar mortgage. My ex was nowhere to be found.

As I ate my dinner in the tiny kitchen, I wondered at how blind I’d been. So desperate for love, I’d taken the guy at face value, to my everlasting shame. I had pinpoint accuracy when it came to animals, but not so much with humans.

Now, at the age of thirty-three, I was living in a tiny studio apartment, trying to make ends meet. I was probably too easy-going and trusting, as Trixie was forever telling me. She would rip the balls off an elephant, if she had to. I, on the other hand, would sew them back on, just to keep the peace. I was a gentle soul at heart, and I didn’t see that ever changing.