One

JayB bent over in the hallway to put on my leash and I could barely restrain my excitement. My nose told me that the winter cold had finally been pushed away by an increasingly insistent sun. Walks would last longer, and we would encounter more people and dogs.

I shoved impatiently against the outer screen door as my person opened it, but then he and I both stopped in surprise. A strange car was parked in our driveway, and standing beside it was a woman I’d never seen before.

JayB slowly descended the cement steps. A complicated churn of dark feelings wafted off the woman in our driveway, strong as any scent. I eyed her anxiously. She was scowling. Her light hair was longer than JayB’s, falling to a blunt end in line with her chin. She was shorter than he was, though built more solidly. Her smell was powerfully attractive, meat odors and other food aromas embedded in her clothing.

But JayB seemed anxious. Was this woman a threat? If so, shouldn’t we go back inside the house?

“Hello, Maddy.” JayB greeted her cautiously as we approached.

The woman put her hands on her hips. “Don’t ‘hello’ me,” she replied. “I made a list.”

“A list?” my person repeated.

The woman nodded vigorously. “I’m calling it the eight simple rules you have to obey for us to get back together again.”

There was a long pause. JayB cleared his throat. “I’m not sure what you’re saying to me, Maddy. To get back together, don’t we have to have been together in the first place?”

The woman (Maddy?) shook her head, her expression stern. “Okay, I’m going to have to add another rule. That’s exactly what I’m talking about, which is why I made a list!” She raised her phone and looked at it.

I sat attentively. No one has ever thrown a phone for me to chase, but that doesn’t mean it can’t happen.

Maddy moved her lips for a moment, then nodded decisively. “Okay. Numeral one: you didn’t call me after we broke up. Who does that? Talk about cruel and unusual.”

“You told me not to call you ever again in this lifetime or the next.”

“Not for after we broke up! You always call someone after you break up. If you don’t, it means you’re a bad person.”

“You didn’t call me.”

I yawned, relaxing, because JayB no longer seemed agitated.

Maddy rolled her eyes. “It’s the man’s job. God. What magazines do you read? This is why women do everything in our country. Okay. Number—two—and this is the one deal-breaker for me, so I want you to take it as seriously as all the others—JayB, you act like nothing ever makes you angry. You’re so full of hidden fury you’re afraid to show it, or you might, I don’t know, take hostages. At some point, you’re going to explode and I don’t wanna be collateral when that happens. Everybody agrees with me on this.”

“Collateral? Why do I always feel like I need an interpreter when I speak with you?”

“Because you don’t listen!”

“Wait, who’s this ‘everybody’ who agrees with you? We don’t have any friends in common.”

“Everybody I tell about it. Duh.”

Obviously, we weren’t going to go for a walk any farther than we already had. Well, I had enjoyed it while it lasted.

JayB looked thoughtful. “I don’t think I’m actually as angry as you say, though. I don’t feel mad. If I were so full of fury, wouldn’t I know it?”

“That’s my point: if you don’t get angry, you’re going to be furious. Do you know what it’s like to be in a relationship with someone who’s steaming under the pot, waiting to spew all over everyone?”


Copyright © 2022 by W. Bruce Cameron