Page 24 - The Woven Tale Press Vol. IV #9

She liked liver, Mama did. And she liked to speak her mind. Mealtime lectures were a staple of my childhood. The importance of iron in one’s diet was a favorite topic, followed closely by the disastrous long-term effects of slouching and the pitfalls of feminism. I learned a lot from my mother. How to maintain eye contact, for instance, while secreting un-chewed chunks of liver into my pockets. I was generous, as a child, about taking the dog out for his evening stroll. Old Boomer was always happy to go with me on those nocturnal walks, knowing what treats were in store.
Taking it
He meant he was an artist. Starving, of course. But I fell in love with him anyway, and when Alice was born, Frank fell in love with her and asked me to marry him, which I did, and that worked for a while.
Once, when I was fourteen, I overheard my par- ents discussing my future prospects. They were sitting together on the screened porch off our kitchen. I had come downstairs from my bed- room, to steal an extra piece of my brother’s birthday cake.
now and I have my own dog, a rescue named Peaches. Home, these days, is a rented apart- ment with popcorn ceilings and poor light, but it’s clean and a short walk to my parents’ house. Alice is in kindergarten, and up until six months ago she spent weekday afternoons with my mother.
“Well, she’s good with animals, anyway,” Mama said.
The last time I went to pick her up, I could hear the two of them arguing as I came through the door. I caught Mama saying, “Because your face could stay that way and then you wouldn’t be pretty anymore.”
That comment came back to me, years later, when I left college, pregnant. The father of my child was willing to go fifty-fifty on an abortion, but wasn’t ready to co-parent, so I left school and moved back in with my folks. While I waited for my daughter to be born, I took up dog walking.
When I entered the kitchen, Alice turned to- ward me, frowning. “Gram says don’t do nose stretches.”
That’s how I met Frank. He and his brother had a dog-walking business in our neighborhood and, apparently, I was encroaching on their turf. The first thing Frank ever said to me was, “It would be too bad if one of your dogs got hurt.”
Alice was into horses then and wanted to be an Arabian when she grew up. Flaring her nostrils was part of the training.
I laughed.
Then he offered me a cigarette.
I pointed to my belly. “I’m not just fat.” “I’m not just a dog-walker,” he said.
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“Don’t encourage her,” my mother said. “Kids need encouragement, Mama.”
Then I moved back in with my parents. And returned to school. Turns out, I’m not just good with animals; I have a way with numbers, too.
I manage the books for a moving company
“You can do nose stretches after dinner,” I said, “if you eat all your salad. Horses eat grass, Al, so you gotta practice.”
“Kids need protein,” she said. “Give that girl some liver.”
That night, just after eleven, my father called. I was in the middle of brushing my teeth and didn’t answer at first, but when he called again I picked up. He told me he’d found Mama tipped over on the sofa.
LILI FLANders