she mentioned leaving, Stamp jumped into her lap and started to shiver like he’d been dropped into an ice bucket.
“My tap class?”
“Why not? I take Pilates and step aerobics. I should be able to tap.”
Taffy in my classroom, taking my instructions? Taffy in a line of thirty-year-old mothers with their six-year-old daughters? “That wouldn’t be any fun for you.”
Taffy smiled. It was the first time she had smiled since she arrived. “What would be fun for me, exactly?”
Stamp began to whine and lick Taffy’s neck. In truth, it would be good for her to come. There was nothing like concentrating on complicated footwork to take one’s mind off of one’s problems.Physical exhaustion was a good thing, and the thunder of tap shoes made it impossible to think. “Do you want to borrow something to wear?”
Taffy, whose combined suitcases contained more cubic feet of space than my entire closet, said she had everything she needed with her.
“You don’t have tap shoes. Please, tell me you didn’t pack a pair of tap shoes.”
“Those I forgot.”
“I’ll get you a pair.”
“Your feet are bigger than mine.”
“Our feet are exactly the same size, you just wear smaller shoes than I do.”
“You always stretched out my shoes.”
“What? Forty-five years ago I stretched out a pair of your shoes? I’m going to get you some of my tap shoes. You’ll see. They’ll be fine.”
“I can wear an extra pair of socks.”
It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if my feet were bigger or our feet were the same size and she needed to believe that my feet were bigger. It made no difference in the world, and still I had to swallow my overwhelming desire to tell her to take off her shoes, right here, right now, we were going to have a look. My sister’s husband had left her. She was so lost that she was forced to turn up on my doorstep. I could find it within myself to keep my mouth shut. “I’ll bring you an extra pair of socks.”
“That would help.” Taffy put Stamp on the floor and got up to go to her room to change. The dog kept leaping up and throwing himself against her as if he were still trying to sit in her lap even though the lap was no longer available.
“What about Stamp?” I said finally.
“I thought we could take him with us to the dance school.” At the mention of this plan the little stub where I imagine there had once been a tail began to wag madly. There were certain concepts of language the dog had down cold.
“There is no way Stamp can come. The place is going to be full of children.”
“Stamp likes children.”
“I don’t have insurance that covers dog-based liability. Don’t you leave him alone in Atlanta?”
“We’re not in Atlanta.”
“Stamp can’t come.”
Taffy crouched down on the floor and took the dog’s wiry muzzle between her hands. “She says you can’t come, baby.”
And with that devastating piece of information the dog slunk off and went under the bed.
“By the way, did you get your suitcases in?” It had just occurred to me that there was no longer a hulking piece of baggage in the front hallway.
“I asked the men outside. They said if I’d lock Stamp in the bathroom, they’d bring in all of the luggage for me. The tall one, Mr. Woodrow? He said not to put all the bags on the same side of the room. He said your foundation is caving in.”
G EORGE HAD HELD down the fort at the dance school all afternoon, but I didn’t want him to miss criminal law. George loved criminal law. For someone who had never even thought of going to law school herself, what I knew about law school was not insignificant. Over the course of four children I had proofread papers,typed papers (but only in a real pinch—I wasn’t much for typing), helped choose classes, and was endlessly asked to ask questions. “ San Antonio Independent School District v. Rodriguez ,” I said while making pancakes. “Charlie, get out the syrup. I’ll get you started here,
“My tap class?”
“Why not? I take Pilates and step aerobics. I should be able to tap.”
Taffy in my classroom, taking my instructions? Taffy in a line of thirty-year-old mothers with their six-year-old daughters? “That wouldn’t be any fun for you.”
Taffy smiled. It was the first time she had smiled since she arrived. “What would be fun for me, exactly?”
Stamp began to whine and lick Taffy’s neck. In truth, it would be good for her to come. There was nothing like concentrating on complicated footwork to take one’s mind off of one’s problems.Physical exhaustion was a good thing, and the thunder of tap shoes made it impossible to think. “Do you want to borrow something to wear?”
Taffy, whose combined suitcases contained more cubic feet of space than my entire closet, said she had everything she needed with her.
“You don’t have tap shoes. Please, tell me you didn’t pack a pair of tap shoes.”
“Those I forgot.”
“I’ll get you a pair.”
“Your feet are bigger than mine.”
“Our feet are exactly the same size, you just wear smaller shoes than I do.”
“You always stretched out my shoes.”
“What? Forty-five years ago I stretched out a pair of your shoes? I’m going to get you some of my tap shoes. You’ll see. They’ll be fine.”
“I can wear an extra pair of socks.”
It didn’t matter. It didn’t matter if my feet were bigger or our feet were the same size and she needed to believe that my feet were bigger. It made no difference in the world, and still I had to swallow my overwhelming desire to tell her to take off her shoes, right here, right now, we were going to have a look. My sister’s husband had left her. She was so lost that she was forced to turn up on my doorstep. I could find it within myself to keep my mouth shut. “I’ll bring you an extra pair of socks.”
“That would help.” Taffy put Stamp on the floor and got up to go to her room to change. The dog kept leaping up and throwing himself against her as if he were still trying to sit in her lap even though the lap was no longer available.
“What about Stamp?” I said finally.
“I thought we could take him with us to the dance school.” At the mention of this plan the little stub where I imagine there had once been a tail began to wag madly. There were certain concepts of language the dog had down cold.
“There is no way Stamp can come. The place is going to be full of children.”
“Stamp likes children.”
“I don’t have insurance that covers dog-based liability. Don’t you leave him alone in Atlanta?”
“We’re not in Atlanta.”
“Stamp can’t come.”
Taffy crouched down on the floor and took the dog’s wiry muzzle between her hands. “She says you can’t come, baby.”
And with that devastating piece of information the dog slunk off and went under the bed.
“By the way, did you get your suitcases in?” It had just occurred to me that there was no longer a hulking piece of baggage in the front hallway.
“I asked the men outside. They said if I’d lock Stamp in the bathroom, they’d bring in all of the luggage for me. The tall one, Mr. Woodrow? He said not to put all the bags on the same side of the room. He said your foundation is caving in.”
G EORGE HAD HELD down the fort at the dance school all afternoon, but I didn’t want him to miss criminal law. George loved criminal law. For someone who had never even thought of going to law school herself, what I knew about law school was not insignificant. Over the course of four children I had proofread papers,typed papers (but only in a real pinch—I wasn’t much for typing), helped choose classes, and was endlessly asked to ask questions. “ San Antonio Independent School District v. Rodriguez ,” I said while making pancakes. “Charlie, get out the syrup. I’ll get you started here,
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