Chapter 7
Waiting for Laura to finish in the restroom, Jeff sat on the black leather couch in her living room. A blue yoga mat rested against the wall behind a sculpture of a young Chinese woman holding a pot. Several knee-high wooden carvings of squirrels in various yoga positions were scattered throughout the room.
There was no television, which he thought was unusual. Where would it be, if not here? Did she even watch television?
Her small, curly white-haired dog sat on the carpet several feet from Jeff. It watched him with intense green eyes. Graisse whined and licked his lips.
“What’s the matter, boy?”
Graisse continued staring, licking his lips.
Dinner with Laura had been wonderful. He wanted to call his long-time friend, Adam, and tell him about it. He had maintained his friendship with Adam because the man was so good to him. Although they only spoke once a month, it was enough. Adam had been there for him, able to talk with him after Bianca died and Cherie left him. Many of Jeff’s other friends had been poor at communication, steering clear of feelings, gravitating to conversation of sports, work, and the latest electronic gadgets.
He pulled out his smart-phone and pushed speed dial for Adam.
Suddenly, the dog stood erect. This was not a threat because of Graisse’s size. He was less than a foot and a half tall. It was more of a threat because of the oddness of the dog’s behavior. He cautiously began jittering towards Jeff, groaning, teeth chattering, body swaying.
Jeff hung up the phone. “Nice doggy.”
Graisse paused, shivering and licking his lips. Then he lifted a paw in the air as though waving.
Jeff waved back.
The dog pounced on Jeff’s right leg.
Graisse was a Bichon Frise, Laura had disclosed earlier. Jeff never heard of this breed. She told him these were often show-dogs. Graisse was glorious, well groomed, sweet tempered, but apparently never neutered. He gently pushed the dog away, but Graisse immediately reconnected to his leg and vigorously humped.
Outside her teaching job, Laura was an artist like Adam, and Jeff loved creativity. It was a vital and healing energy. Just being with her gave him an emotional lift. He would endure this slight discomfort from her horny animal.
Graisse’s rear gyrated faster, eyes squinting, tongue lolling to one side. Although his name meant fat in French, he appeared anorexic.
Jeff replaced his phone back in his pocket. After another failed attempt to steer Graisse away, he grabbed the dog’s chew toy and tossed it across the room. “Go get it.” The toy squeaked as it hit the far wall.
But Graisse didn’t look away from Jeff. He didn’t even blink.
Jeff cared what Laura thought about him, perhaps more than he should. He didn’t want to be caught with her dog committing carnal acts on him twice in one night. It was embarrassing. He pealed the animal’s front paws off his leg, stood, and waved a finger at Graisse. “No. Bad dog.”
Without even a hint of remorse, Graisse went for Jeff’s other leg.
Jeff moved away at the last second, quickly crossing the room to the tiled dining area, pursued by the dog. Jeff rounded the dining table, Graisse cutting underneath, catching him before he could find another obstacle to intervene. Canine teeth bit into his jeans, causing him to trip—more out of fear of stepping on the small creature than from its light tug. He fell into an expensive, antique Tiffany-Lamp on a small wooden table.
Crash!
Hundreds of colored-glass pieces glistened on the floor.
With Jeff sprawled out, his left leg fell victim to the animal, thrusting towards a climax that made no biological sense whatsoever.
“What’s going on out here?” Laura asked, standing in the hallway, stunningly beautiful. When she saw Graisse, she ran to him and snatched him off Jeff. “Sorry.” Though she had no reason to be embarrassed, her face flushed red. “I guess, he’s just—” she swallowed hard, “—so excited to see you.”
Jeff looked down at the broken glass fragments. “I’m sorry. I’ll buy a new one.”
“It’s not even real, silly.” She giggled nervously, carrying the dog to the back patio. She cleared her throat. “It’s just a cheap imitation of a Tiffany. I was going to get rid of it anyways.” She placed Graisse outside on the ground, came back inside, and closed the sliding glass door.
Jeff furtively shifted his eyes to the back patio. Graisse was springing five feet straight up, switching directions in mid-air, back and forth, as though on a trampoline, issuing a single bark at the crest of each jump. Where did that dog get its energy?
“What’s the matter?” she grinned. “You afraid Graisse will break through the glass and get you?” Her smile widened.
He played along with her. “That thought certainly crossed my mind.”
“He’s only nine pounds.”
Jeff looked away, fidgeting with self-doubt, then met her eyes. “I really enjoyed tonight.”
Her face flushed again. “Me, too.” A pause. “See you tomorrow?”
“Yes.” And he leaned forward to kiss her just as she turned away to head for the front door. Regaining his balance, feeling like an idiot, he followed, hoping she hadn’t noticed his ill-timed romantic intention.