Page 56 of The Heartbreak Hotel
“Okay,” I say, mustering the voice that I use for crisis. For panic attacks. For fresh, uncontrollable grief. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to call a vet.”
I hardly have time to think about it before I dial the number. Before it rings once, twice. Before Henry’s low, smooth voice meets me on the other end of the line.
“Louisa.”
“Henry.” I look from Shani to Nan and back again. “I think that spider you saved just attacked someone’s dog.”
Twenty-Three
“He’ll see you right away.”Rita stands behind the reception desk and hurries toward us, beelining for the same examination room where I presented Henry with my pitch back in August. We’re a sight, I’m sure: Shani, hysterical, cradling her shih tzu (named, I now know, Alfalfa); Quinn, asking questions a mile a minute from the perch of my arms; and Nan, still in her robe, trying to keep everyone calm. As we pass through the lobby, every single person looks up.
The exam room is small: two chairs facing the table. Shani takes one immediately, setting Alfalfa in her lap and watching his face, which seems to swell in size even as she’s looking at him. Nan sits next to her, putting one hand on her shoulder and rubbing it in slow circles. Which leaves Quinn and me to stand. I wonder, briefly, if we should even be in here—but then the door opens, and Henry walks through it, and every thought drops directly out of my head.
“I hear someone’s been eating questionable snacks,” Henry says, motioning for Shani to bring Alfalfa closer. His voice islight, reassuring, warm. Nothing like the shredded whispers against my mouth in the hallway last night:You scare me. You must know how long I’ve wanted this.My hairline prickles with sweat as Shani sets her dog on the exam table.
“I’m Henry Rhodes,” Henry says, then nods at the vet tech who followed him into the room—young, closer to my age than Henry’s, with a golden retriever smile and thickly muscled arms. “And this is Jorge.” Henry’s in his white coat, a button-down shirt, his hair carefully combed. The circles under his eyes are faint; you wouldn’t know, from looking at him, that he was up all night. I wonder how often this has happened. How much time Henry’s spent hiding this part of himself. “He’s going to be helping me with Alfalfa.”
“It happened so fast,” Shani says, her voice high and wavering. “By the time I realized Alfie was going for a spider, he was already spitting it out and shaking his head, and now this.”
“That spider didn’t want to be eaten, huh?” Henry talks directly to the dog, kind and calm, hands moving from his swollen mouth to his ears to his spine. Like nothing’s wrong, like Alfie’s face isn’t approaching the shape of a basketball. He ducks to look Alfie straight in the eyes, and when his face lights with a smile I feel it in the back of my throat. “We’re going to get this sorted out.” Henry looks up at Shani, then me. His eyes soften, just a little, as they hold mine. “I’m glad you called.”
“Me, too,” Shani says tearily.
“Jorge and I are going to take Alfie into the back, if that’s okay with you.” When Shani nods, Henry scoops the little dog into his arms.I was lonely, he’d said.It was just me and our animals. This isn’t the place for the feelings rising in me like carbonation, for the overwhelming urge to reach for him acrossthe exam table. “We’ll get him a Benadryl injection and a steroid to speed it up, plus something for the pain.” He lifts Alfie to meet his eyes. “Okay, buddy?” Henry smiles at Shani. “We’ll be back soon.”
He and Jorge leave the room as quickly as they came, leaving my heart strangling up my windpipe. Shani drops into her chair and sobs.
“Oh, my dear,” Nan says. “He’s going to be just fine.”
“I just can’t deal with this on top of everything,” she says, hiding her face with both hands. “My ex-girlfriend fought me so hard on keeping Alfie, and it was so stressful, and now I nearly kill him?”
“You didn’t nearly kill him,” I say, putting Quinn down and taking his hand. I walk over to Shani and Nan, leaning against the exam table so I can face them. “It was an accident completely beyond your control. And he’s going to be just fine, okay?”
Shani nods wordlessly, her ribs shuddering with silent sobs. Quinn tugs at my sweatshirt. “Lou-Lou, I need to go to the bathroom.”
“Okay.” I squeeze his hand, looking at Nan. “We’ll be right back.”
She nods, one hand still on Shani’s shoulder. Quinn and I navigate our way through the lobby to the bathroom, where I boost him up onto the toilet and lift him to wash his hands. The walls are covered in client photos: dogs and cats and an enormous rabbit and even a lizard. I imagine Henry listening to a lizard’s heartbeat—his huge hands, its tiny body—and feel it like a stomachache.
“Is Alfie gonna die?” Quinn asks, carefully sudsing up his hands as I hold him up to the pedestal sink.
“No,” I say, meeting my own eyes in the mirror. I lower Quinn to the ground and reach for a paper towel. “He’s going to be just fine.”
Quinn watches me dry his hands. When I toss the towel into the trash, I take them in my own, crouched in front of him. “Are you okay?”
Quinn nods. He has Goldie’s eyes—the palest, softest blue. It’s like staring at my sister. “Just scared,” he says, and I think of Henry in the park. Of Henry last night, how afraid he looked. I pull Quinn into a hug and he wraps his arms around my ribs.
“I know,” I say, kissing the top of his head. “That was scary, but everything’s going to be okay.”
“ ’Cause Henry’s gonna save him,” Quinn says, muffled against my shirt.
I draw a deep breath, let it out. “That’s right.”
It takes thirty minutes forthem to bring Alfie back to us. Shani lets out a sob of relief when Jorge carries him into the room, de-puffed and much more normal looking. There’s a felt daisy tied to his collar, and I think of that very first day I met Henry, back in August: the giant Bernese mountain dog who greeted me here, the pink lily on its collar.
“He’s all right,” Jorge says, smiling, as he hands him off to Shani. They brought us another chair from the waiting room, and Quinn’s hunched up in my lap playing games on my phone. “Feeling much better now.”
“Pretty scary allergic reaction,” Henry says, following Jorge inside and closing the door behind them. “But that’s all it was.” He pulls over a rolling stool and adjusts his slacks to sit down. Iimagine crawling onto his lap and have to close my eyes to make the picture go away. “His swelling’s gone down really nicely, airway’s clear. I’m not concerned about another flare-up, but if he starts to swell again, or you notice any reddening of his skin or difficulty breathing, definitely call us.” Henry glances at me, then back at Shani. “You’re staying at the Comeback Inn?”
