Then there was Ginger Garrison, the /Herald/s home and garden editor.
Ginger was forty, divorced, and the mother of twin fifteen-year-old boys. After Gingers husband left her for the first in what would become a cornucopia of skanky hos, she and Larry graciously agreed to share custody of the boys. They also hammered out the property settlement, alimony, and child support issues with relative ease. The dog was a different story. It took nearly a year and close to twenty-five thousand in legal fees, but Ginger got sole custody of HeatherLynn, a perfectly coiffed bichon frise who dined on free-range chicken and slept on a satin dog bed.
Ginger was gorgeous. She was always the one in the group who turned heads and caused mens mouths to fall open just by walking down the street or bending down to fix her ankle strap. But since shed hit the Big Four-oh, Ginger had grown insecure about her looks, and had convinced herself she was in the beginning stages of menopause, though her doctors and everyone else in her life had told her she was imagining things. In addition to the self-induced hot flashes and crying jags, Ginger had become fixated on the crows feet and frown lines only she could see. Shed made four appointments with the plastic surgeon for Botox injections, but had canceled them all because of her ongoing concerns about a possible link to brain tumors.
Then there was Josie herself. She was perfectly aware that she was the plain Jane of the group, that there was nothing remotely funky about her. She was a little too short and a little too curvy, with curly brown hair past her shoulders, and gray eyes. She had a masters degree in journalism from Stanford. No one in her family had ever gone to prison or appeared on a reality show. Her mother was an English Lit teacher at a community college and her dad was a plumbing contractor. Her older brother, Donald, was a single accountant and her younger sister, Beth, was a crazed wife and mother of two toddlers. Pathologically normal, the whole lot of them.
Josie knew she was a good person. She didnt get to mass regularly but she tried to make an appearance at Easter and Christmas. She gave to several charities. She tried to meditate every day even though she hated sitting still. She tried to eat right and usually did okay unless cocoa or phyllo dough products were involved. She had a life insurance policy, though she wondered why she bothered.
One thing Josie was sure ofshe had the friendliest dog there was.
Genghis was the Jay Leno of the dog park. Dogs and their people flocked to him, the people already laughing because he looked like such a goof.
Genghis was a big, golden-brown clown who loved everyone, especially those with food. Genghis would walk off with anyone who offered him anything remotely bacon-flavored, and hed sell his soul to Satan for a cube of cheddar cheese. This lack of fidelity used to make Josie feel insecure. She sometimes compared her dog to Gingers HeatherLynn, who peed herself if Ginger left her field of vision. She knew Genghis loved her, and she was aware that canine incontinence wasnt anything to be jealous of, but sometimes Josie wished he was more of a one-woman dog.
So that morning, after Beas sermon on muzzles and dog gurus, Roxanne stormed off without a word, the foaming Lilith in tow. The rest of them lured their dogs away from playtime and went after her.
That might have been a little harsh, Ginger said to Bea as they walked.
Bea shook her head purposefully, her short hair spiked with so much gel it didnt move in the breeze. It wasnt harshit was /true/. One of us has got to have the balls to tell Roxie the way it isher dog hates males because /she/ does! Isnt it obvious?
The thought had occurred to Josie, of course, but saying it out loud was another thing entirely. Thats not really fair, Bea, Josie said, as they quickened their pace. Lilith had aggression issues long before Roxie got her. She was a rescue doga strayremember? And anyway, we could use the dog-reflects-owner formula with every one of us and paint any kind of picture we wanted.
Ginger frowned, but immediately used a fingertip to massage away any wrinkle that might have formed in the valley between her brows. Exactly what are you implying, Josie?
She shrugged, realizing shed started a conversation she might not be brave enough to finish.
Do tell, Joze, Bea said with a laugh.
Josie looked down at Genghis and his usual happy-as-hell expression and the way his hair-covered eyes darted around the park, going from person to person and dog to dog, clearly amenable to any kind of contact.
Well, Ill start with me. She thought that was a diplomatic move. Maybe my dog reflects my personality in some way. Maybe Im too trusting. Maybe Im just an easy-going person who allows herself to get seduced too often.
Bea snorted again.
Ginger, however, seemed intrigued. Okay. I see where youre going. She mulled it over for a moment. Lets do Bea next.
Say /what/? Beas eyes got big.
Its clear that Bea runs Martina ragged with training and competitions just like she used to do to herself. Its her way of proving her own worth, one more shot at gold-medal glory!
Beas mouth fell open, but quickly snapped shut. Her silence made Josie wince. Eventually they caught up to Roxie.
May we join you? Josie asked.
Yeah, Bea said. We were just having a fascinating conversation about how our dogs reflect our particular neuroses.
Oh, Bea. Ginger sighed. I didnt mean anything by what I said. Dont be so sensitive.
Bea continued, speaking only to Roxie. For example, have you noticed how HeatherLynn is terrified shell be abandoned? She clearly gets it from Ginger, whose biggest fear since the divorce has been that no one will want her.
Ginger gawked.
Roxie gasped. Oh, my /God/. Her eyes sought out Josie. Did you start this?
She nodded, then shook her head to the contrary. Wait. I think Bea did.
Roxie jutted her chin toward Bea. And I suppose youve got a clever observation to make about Lilith?
Hold on a minute, Josie said, wedging herself between Bea and Roxie.
Were friends. We can be honest and kind at the same time.
Ha! Thats a mighty tall order for Ms. Latimer, Ginger said with a sniff.
The Botox has gone to your brain, Ginger.
I havent had any… yet. But I have a consultation next week, and this time Im really going through with it!
A jogger ran by, annoyed that the women had blocked the park path with their impromptu group therapy session. Josie corralled everyone into the grass. Lets calm down.
Do you truly think I fear not being attractive? Ginger peered into each of their faces, her voice reaching new heights on the shrieky scale. Do you think Im obsessed with looking good for men? That I have to be with a man to be whole? /Do you really think Im that insecure?/ Bea shrugged. If the high heel fits…
So what was your theory about Lilith? Roxie demanded. Cmon, Bea. Bring it on.
I simply observed that your dog reflects your own aggression toward men.
Roxies lip curled, exposing her top teeth. Aggression? What fucking aggression?
I could still get a man if I wanted oneI mean, if there was one I found interesting and worthy of my time. Ginger said this mostly to herself.
And Joze, yours is probably the most blatant of all.
Josie looked at Bea, nonplussed. My what is blatant?
Bea softened her voice. All Im saying is that Genghis is a mirror to your dysfunctions.
Josie groaned. Can we change the subject, please?
Oh, Joze, Roxie said. You fall in love too fast. Youre just like Genghis that waywalking around just waiting to love the next thing that comes along.