“I told you not to feed him from the table.”
Graham has finally re-emerged from the kitchen, carrying two glasses of water and two ceramic white plates. When Ziggy sees him, he barks loudly. He bounds over and starts growling at Graham.
“For Christ’s sake!” Graham’s face turns pink. “Tess, can you get your goddamn dog away from me? I’m going to drop everything.”
I leap out of my seat and grab a hold of Ziggy’s collar. I stroke the smooth golden fur on his head, but he won’t stop growling at Graham. Maybe it is a jealousy thing, like Graham said, but boy, Ziggy really does not like him.
“Put him outside while we eat,” Graham says.
I frown. “It’s cold out.”
“It’s not that cold. And he’s got his fur. And there’s a doghouse out there. He’ll be fine.”
I just stare at Graham.
“Seriously, Tess?” He drops the glasses of water and plates onto the dining table with a loud thump. “Do we have to argue about every little thing?”
Before I can answer, Graham seizes Ziggy’s collar and almost drags the poor dog into the kitchen. Ziggy’s paws make a scraping sound as he attempts to keep his footing on the ground. I don’t follow them because I can’t even watch. Graham’s sharp voice echoes from the other room. “Go! Get out!”
The next sound I hear is the back door slamming shut. And a key turning in a lock.
Graham has now locked the back door.
When Graham returns to the dining room, his face is still pink. He distributes the plates and glasses he brought to the dining table—one plate and glass for me, the other for him. Then he drops into his seat, a scowl on his face.
“Sorry,” he mutters. “That dog is always begging at the table for food. I’m so sick of it. He never listens to what we tell him to do.”
“Maybe he needs obedience lessons?” I suggest. But I don’t really think that. From what I could see today, Ziggy is an incredibly well-behaved dog, save for the last few minutes.
“Maybe…”
“I could call and make an appointment for lessons?”
He scoffs. “Yeah, when exactly would you do that?”
“Tomorrow morning,” I start to say. But then I realize his point. I’m not going to remember to do anything tomorrow morning. When I wake up in the morning, God knows what my last memory will be. I probably won’t even know who Ziggy is, same as this morning.
But maybe I will. Maybe I’ll remember. It seems impossible I could forget this crazy day.
Graham takes a long swig from his water glass. “Let’s eat.”
I pile a stack of noodles onto my plate and Graham does the same. For fifteen minutes, we eat in complete silence. I wonder if that’s what we usually do, or if the conversation flows readily. What can I talk about? Current events? The latest movies? Music? All those topics are difficult for me.
I suppose we could talk about stuff from the past. But I can’t remember any of our shared past. And I can’t remember what conversations we’ve had before. I’m scared anything I say to him will be something I’ve already said dozens of times before. It’s awkward.
So instead, I decide to opt for some small talk. I wrack my brain, trying to think of some mundane topic that will be at least a little interesting.
“The food is pretty good at this place,” I finally say.
Graham nods. “It’s your favorite Thai restaurant.”
“I have good taste then.”
I had hoped he’d laugh at my little attempt at levity, but instead, he furrows his brow. “Tess, I’m sorry I had to take your phone.”
“It’s fine. You’re right. I probably would lose it during the night.”
“Yes but…” He looks troubled. “I’m your husband, not your father. I shouldn’t be telling you what to do. But… you do lose your phone whenever I let you keep it. I’m just trying to do the right thing.”
“I understand.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.” And I do. Sort of. “But… you say I usually get confused at night…”
He nods. “Very confused. Sometimes you even forget your own name.”
A little shiver goes down my spine. “But that’s the thing. I don’t feel…”
I had been about to tell him that I don’t feel confused. But just as the words are coming out of my mouth, I realize that my tongue feels heavy. A wave of dizziness washes over me, and for a moment, I almost feel too tired to pick up my fork and take another bite.