The Beginning of After

in the air between us. It didn’t seem to fit in either of our lives anymore.
    Now I got out of the car, leaning against the side for support. I didn’t think I expected or even wanted a full apology from David about the prom. But as long as he was offering, it did make a difference.
    If I can’t change something, I don’t waste energy on it , Nana had said.
    Being angry at David for the prom, for what his father might or might not have done, took more energy than I had in the first place.
    “So we’re both sorry,” I said. “Can we leave it at that?”
    “Absolutely. I’m excellent at leaving things.” His mouth turned up a bit with the pun, then he looked at Masher again. “So what’s the deal? Your grandmother said he needs medication?”
    “Vitamin K supplements. Twice a day for at least a month.”
    David was quiet, processing that.
    “I’d like to take him back with me. My cousins said it was all right.”
    Then he looked at me, as if now I needed to say it was all right too. Maybe forgetting that this was actually his dog and not mine.
    I thought of not having Masher around anymore, and it instantly made me ache. Another absence. I’d gotten used to the noises and the following and the watching. But I was going to be busy with my new job, and Nana would love not having “the dog” around, and I couldn’t risk another accident.
    Plus, the way David watched his dog sniffing at the weeds along the road, his body hunched and needy, I knew Masher might be required somewhere else.
    “He’d love it,” I finally said. “One thing, though. He has a follow-up appointment at Ashland Animal Hospital in two weeks.”
    “Oh yeah, I heard you’re going to be working there?”
    “It’ll get me out of the house.” I shrugged.
    “Getting out of the house is good. I recommend it,” said David, and he shot an ironic glance up the hill toward his home. “I’ll bring him back for his appointment, no problem. Just send me the info. Let me give you my email.”
    While David dug some kind of receipt out of his pocket, I reached into the Volvo toward the compartment between the two front seats, where my mom always kept pens and small change. I pulled out a blue pen and gave it to David. He wrote something on the paper, then handed both back to me.
    He didn’t ask for my email address in return.
    “You’re going home—,” he said flatly, not committing to it as a question.
    We had done this. Seeing him again would somehow make it less clean. Plus, I couldn’t stand a long good-bye with Masher.
    “I’m running errands, so I have to get going. Just tell Nana you need the medication. It’s all written on the label.”
    “Okay,” he just said, then put his sunglasses back on and wrapped Masher’s leash in a loop around his wrist. “Mash, say good-bye to Laurel.”
    Masher looked at me with surprise, and I squatted down with my arms out until he scrambled over to me. I hugged him, he licked my face. I didn’t need to say anything. Not with David there, watching.
    Finally I got up and Masher went back to David.
    “Come on, buddy, let’s go find that cat you love to hate,” he said.
    They walked away and I got back in the car. After I was sure David couldn’t see me, I unfolded the receipt to stare at his email address, then flipped it over.
    WELCOME TO ARI’S FUNZONE ARCADE , it said. thank you for playing.
    The first thing Eve gave me when I showed up for my new job on Monday was a stack of folders a foot high.
    “Filing,” she said. “It’s the backbone of our whole operation.” There was not an ounce of kidding in her voice.
    “That’s what I’m here for,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. My only other job had been as an intern at my dad’s advertising agency the previous summer, and that had just been for a month. I was supposed to be working as an apprentice to the art director, but all I did was make photocopies and get sandwiches and answer the phone. I didn’t mind; I was making more money than Meg was earning at Old Navy, and I got to ride into Manhattan on the train with my father, and sometimes he’d take me to lunch. When he couldn’t, I’d sit outside in a nearby park, sketching the skyline.
    I loved seeing Dad at his job as an account executive, but sometimes it felt like he was avoiding me. When I did catch glimpses of him in the office, he’d be on the phone with someone who was angry, or he was busy trying to fix a problem someone else caused. He’d