Robin Alexander - Pitifully Ugly

gleaming when she talked to Marvin. Talk about mixed signals.

“Okay,” Marvin said cheerfully. “Seriously, thank you,

Shannon.”

I tossed the phone on my desk and groaned when I heard a

knock on the door. I threw it open and was surprised to see a very

tall, nice-looking man who seemed as shocked to see me as I was

to see him.

“I’m so sorry to disturb you. I just realized that I’m supposed

to be at 2A, and I see now I wasn’t paying attention when I went

up the elevator.”

“That’s okay, it happens all the time,” I lied, mainly because

he seemed so nice, and it dawned on me that he was looking for

Hailey’s apartment.

“Have a nice day and I apologize again,” he said as he

turned and walked away. If things about Hailey weren’t already

confusing, they were more so now.

My apartment became extremely oppressive, so I decided to

go for a walk. And to my chagrin, I ran into Hailey in the hall.

She looked amazing in one of her dressier business suits. The

skirt fit her curves, and I found it hard not to just stand and stare,

but when I saw the man I’d met earlier standing not far behind

her, I looked down at Fuzzy. Somehow she didn’t complete the

ensemble.

“I need a huge favor,” Hailey said, looking uncomfortable.

“I have a work function to attend, and my TV died this morning.

Would you keep Fuzzy for me?”

Fuzzy was looking up at me as if to say, please, say yes .

4

Pitifully Ugly

“Sure, no problem.”

“Oh, umm, Shannon, this is my ex-husband, Mark,” Hailey

said, stepping out of the way.

“We kind of met by accident earlier,” he said with a smile

when he shook my hand. “It’s a pleasure to be formally introduced,

though.”

“Likewise,” I said with as much of a smile as I could muster.

“You two have a great time.” I took Fuzzy’s leash and watched

them go. Hailey looked back over her shoulder and mouthed,

sorry.

“Fuzzy, I’m in the mood for a long walk. I’m glad you packed

your ball.”

If dogs smile, she truly did then around a slimy green tennis

ball, and we were off.

Fuzzy actually walked me. I followed along behind her as

she pranced down the sidewalk, stopping occasionally to sniff

something of interest. She walked as if she had a destination in

mind, and since I didn’t, I was content to comply with her whim.

We came along a small park that didn’t have any signs that said

dogs weren’t welcome, so once inside the fence, I unclipped her

leash. She trotted over to a bench and looked at me until I sat.

The ball was then placed in my lap. I thought I knew what was

expected. I threw the ball as far as it would go, and she turned

and looked at me as if to say, Bitch. Did I say to throw it across

the park?

She came back and stood in front of me, and this time, she did

not readily give me the ball. “You want me to bounce it?” I asked.

Her response was a huffing sound. I did as she commanded. She

lost interest after forty-something bounces and lay down on the

cool sidewalk in front of me.

“Fuzzy, I don’t know what to do about your mother or your

person, whatever you call her.”

Her blond head tilted to the side.

“No, really, it’s true. She just wants to be friends right now,

and I’m not sure I can take any more friendship. Every time I see

her, I want to kiss her and choke her at the same time.”

Robin Alexander

Fuzzy’s tongue flopped out.

“Yes, like that. None of the friendly peck on the cheek stuff.

I just want to take her in my arms and—” I stopped short and

nodded at a couple who passed by with odd expressions. I waited

for them to get far enough away to continue. “I’m just getting to

know her, but I feel something that I can’t keep denying, and I

can’t just blurt it out to her.”

Fuzzy cocked her head again.

“No, not love, but an attraction that I can barely stand. Do

you think the feelings are so intense because I can’t have her?”

Bingo, dumbass, was Fuzzy’s expression.

“Is that all it is?” I tilted my own head.

You have the patience of a squirrel , Fuzzy seemed to say.

“Hey, you’re not the picture of patience when you want the

ball bounced, either, Ms. Thang.”

Apparently, the mention of the ball was her cue. She picked it

up and dropped it in my lap. “So what am I supposed to do now?”

I asked as I bounced it on the sidewalk.

Fuzzy caught the ball and returned it to me and dropped it in

my hand. You keep playing bal . That solves everything. I heard

that loud and clear.

On the way back home, Fuzzy made it apparent that her

charge for advice was chicken on a stick. She parked her rump

in front of a Chinese restaurant and wouldn’t budge. I looped

her leash around a hydrant and stepped inside to place her order,

keeping a close eye on her through the window.

Fuzzy was in agreement that we should wait to eat until we

got home, though she nuzzled the bag every time she came near.

After she’d taken a drink to clear her palate of the ball, she went

to work on the chicken that I seriously doubted she even chewed.

I sat on the couch with my fried rice, and after she’d finished

her meal, she joined me. “I don’t have Grease or High School

Musical , but I do have Mame with Lucille Ball and Bea Arthur.

Will that suffice?”

Fuzzy wasn’t sure, so I played it anyway. She was asleep

before the movie began, and I was too shortly after. Around

eleven, I heard a soft knock on the door.

Pitifully Ugly

“I’m so sorry to have dumped her on you without any

warning,” Hailey said as she stepped inside. “I was just going to

leave her with the radio on, but she’d been stuck inside for most

of the day, and I was worried she would burn energy by taking

apart the furniture.”

“She was no trouble at all, and I aired her out for you.” I

wanted to be grumpy with her, but she looked so apologetic that it

stole my steam. “We spent a nice afternoon in the park.”

“Can I make it up to you by buying you dinner tomorrow

night?” Hailey asked, looking hopeful.

“That sounds good,” I said around a yawn, trying to appear

casual.

She thanked me again, then ushered Fuzzy into the hall.

Fuzzy shot me a look before I closed the door that said, I won’t

tell her what you said, but you need to get me more chicken.

Robin Alexander

Chapter 13

Fireworks in February.

The following evening, Fuzzy was perched in front of a new

TV and John Travolta was singing about summer lovin’. I think

she winked at me as Hailey closed the door behind us.

Hailey asked me to pick the restaurant, and I decided on

a quiet Italian place a few blocks from our building. I sipped

cabernet, thinking it was a blessing that Fuzzy couldn’t actually

talk, but she’d get more chicken from me anyway.

“What would you suggest?” Hailey asked as she perused the

menu. “I’m not really in the mood for any seafood.”

“Then I’d suggest the lasagna or the spaghetti with meatballs.

Steer clear of the Italian sausage unless your stomach is made of

cast iron.”

Hailey nodded. “Thank you for the warning.”