Tortoise Approved

I always imagined that, by the time I was thirty-five, I’d be married with kids and living in the suburbs. I could see it so clearly: on a cloudless summer day, my husband would be working on his honey-do list with a tool belt strapped snugly around his waist. I’d be wearing a floppy sun hat while planting flowers in my garden, and the kids would be running around in the backyard, laughing as they kicked a soccer ball. It was a dream that was so vivid, I could feel the sun on my back, smell the freshly cut grass, hear the thump of the soccer ball. It was so tangible that it felt inevitable - a matter of when rather than if.

My timeline had one thing right - by the time I was thirty-five, I did buy a house in the suburbs. But heavy is the ringless hand that signs the mortgage, because unlike my grand vision, I was alone. There was no handy husband and there were no giggling children. Instead, there was a tortoise named Russell.

Russell wasn’t my tortoise - he belonged to a middle aged woman down the street. I never even exchanged two words with her, but by neighborhood osmosis, I knew about Russell. Everyone in the area did - his name, his impressive age of eighty-four, and how his owner let him outside when the weather was nice. No one’s backyard was fenced, and they created an unbroken carpet of emerald grass. Russell would wander down the stretch of lawns, sunlight gleaming off of his pine green and marigold shell, until he reached my house. Maybe he liked the sunflowers on my hat, or maybe he wanted to snack on the petunias that I planted - whatever the reason, I could count on Russell stopping by when I was outside.

One afternoon, I was telling him about what happened at brunch.

“Zoey is engaged,” I announced gloomily, plunging my weeding knife into the lawn. “She barely started dating this guy when Marcus and I broke up, and now they’re engaged.” I sighed and blew a strand of hair out of my face. “I mean, I’m happy for her - I am - but it all feels so…unfair.”

Russell stood there and blinked.

“Is this how it happens now? People date for like, a year before getting engaged?” I shuddered at the thought. “I guess you know what you’re looking for by this age, but…Marcus and I were together for six years. Six years! I just can’t imagine getting engaged to someone that I don’t know as well as I knew him.”

Russell yawned.

“Hey, don’t give me that. I have moved on.”

Russell didn’t move.

“Tina kept asking me if I’ve been on any dates, and she is getting so annoying.” I yanked out a dandelion, roots and all. “She can never read the room.”

Russell blinked.

“I’ve been busy, you know? First it was moving in, but then I had to paint the rooms and get new carpet and shop for furniture - the house takes up a lot of time. I’m turning it into a home.”

Russell didn’t move.

“It’s been getting kind of lonely, though. Every night, I end up laying on the couch watching Law and Order and scrolling through my phone. And Tina made this joke during brunch about her eggs dying - but she’s younger than me! Was that supposed to be aimed at me?” I bit my lip. “Are my eggs dying?”

Russell yawned.

“You’re right.” I shook my head. “That’s dramatic.”

Russell blinked.

“It feels like I’ve just gotten a handle on my life, and time is already running out. If I don’t scramble, then I’m going to be alone…but dating is terrible, and everything has changed so much since the last time I was out there.”

I glanced down at the pile of weeds and had an idea. I picked up two dandelions, one in each hand, and held them out to Russell. “Help me decide - do I get on the dating apps? Left dandelion means yes, right dandelion means no.”

Russell took a jerky step forward, stretched out his neck, and chomped down on the left dandelion.

“Alright, buddy. I hope you realize how serious this decision is.”

Russell didn’t react.

The next time Russell came over, I was pruning my hydrangeas and was ready to give him an earful.

“Buddy, I hope you realize how much trouble you’re in.” I shook my finger at him. “I downloaded the app, and it’s terrible. It’s so hard to find someone who isn’t drifting aimlessly through life. All the guys with goals and careers, have they already been snapped up?”

Russell didn’t move.

“Oh, there are guys that look fine until you read between the lines. You can’t be thirty-five and ‘apolitical’ - you either don’t care about anything, or you think your real beliefs will scare women away. Neither of those are attractive.”

Russell blinked.

“And if you actually manage to match with someone, talking to them is like pulling teeth. I’m trying to get to know them. I’m asking questions about their hobbies and their careers and their pets, and I get one word answers in return. I mean, seriously?” I yanked off my gardening gloves. “I’m not asking for a Shakespearean sonnet here. All I'm asking for is a little effort.”

Russell whistled.

“Aw, do you have a little cold?” I reached out to stroke his head. “Poor buddy. I guess I shouldn’t be so hard on you.”

Russell blinked. I leaned over, plucked two dandelions that had sprouted in the grass, and offered them to him. “If you think I should stick it out on the apps, let me know. Left dandelion means yes, right dandelion means no.”

Russell opened his maw and munched on the left dandelion.

“Okay, message received loud and clear.” I sighed and tossed the remaining dandelion aside. “Well, you’ve been very patient, listening to me talk about my dating life. How about you? I’m sure you’ve romanced a few lady tortoises in your day.”

Russell kept chewing, and I remembered that I was talking to a tortoise.

“Maybe…I should start texting Zoey more often.”

Russell didn’t move.

A few days later, I was spreading compost over my garden bed and had much better news for Russell.

“You won’t believe it!” I sang as he marched up to me. “I matched with someone, and we’re going out for dinner.”

Russell blinked.

“His name is Nate. He’s an architect, he loves dogs, and he’s pretty cute,” I grinned.

Russell hissed.

“Hey,” I said, raising my eyebrows. “What gives? You don’t know this guy.”

Russell didn’t move.

“I mean, sure, liking dogs is kind of basic - but I’d be a little suspicious if someone didn’t like dogs.”

Russell blinked. 

“Okay, Nate also likes to hike and he likes photography. Those aren’t super original hobbies, but I think it’s good that he likes being outdoors and has a creative side.” I frowned at Russell. “What’s so terrible about that?”

Russell gurgled.

“Are you still getting over your cold?” I stroked his shell. “Poor buddy. Maybe you’re not in the mood to deal with my dating life today.”

Russell didn’t move. I looked around my backyard until I found two dandelions. “Okay, I won’t bother you about Nate anymore. Just give me your opinion. Left dandelion means yes, go on a date with him. Right dandelion means no, don’t -”

Before I could finish my sentence, Russell had devoured the right dandelion.

“Ah,” I said softly, looking down at the leftover stem. “I mean, I reserve the right to make my own decisions.”

I smiled weakly at him, but he didn’t react. I extended the remaining flower. “Left dandelion means sure, it’s not too early to have a glass of wine?”

Russell didn’t move.

“Wow, tough crowd tonight,” I muttered.

The next time I saw Russell, it was almost a week later. I was sitting on my patio with a glass of wine, watching the sun set.

“You were right,” I sighed as he sidled up to me. “I don’t know how you knew, but Nate wasn’t all he was cracked up to be.” I took a sip. “He has a girlfriend - no, wait, that’s not the worst part. She knew about me!”

Russell blinked.

“Do tortoises care about polyamory? Maybe it’s different for you. I’ll make it clear - I do care.” I swirled the wine around in my glass. “It’s not that I care if he’s polyamorous. Just don’t bring me into it.”

Russell chirped.

“Exactly!” I cried. “I want all the information upfront. Don’t try to trick me into a date.” I sighed. “He was a total waste of time.”

Russell gurgled.

“Aw, it’s okay, buddy.” I rubbed the top of his head with my finger. “You sound better. I think that cold of yours is passing, huh?”

Russell didn’t move.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. Hey, maybe you were allergic to my bullshit!”

I doubled over laughing. Russell didn’t react.

“Oh, admit it - I’m hilarious,” I snorted, wiping my eyes.

Russell didn’t get a chance to react - or wasn’t reacting at all - when a voice echoed down the lawns. “Russell!”

I jumped, spilling a little wine on my patio, and stood up. “Over here!” I called, waving my free hand in the air.

It took a moment for me to spot whoever was looking for Russell. A man, not much older than me, was jogging down the connected backyards. When he saw Russell, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Oh, thank goodness,” he panted. “I’ve been looking for him everywhere. I’m so sorry he’s been bothering you.”

“Not at all. He’s joining me for a drink.” I realized how that sounded and quickly added, “Um, he’s not having any.”

The man chuckled. “It looks like you two are having a good time.”

“He comes over often, and he’s always welcome.” I reached over and patted Russell’s shell. “How long have you had him?”

He shook his head. “Oh, no, Russell isn’t mine. He’s my sister’s - I’m just taking care of him for a few days.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. She said to let him out if it was nice, but I didn’t think he’d wander away.” He laughed, and the sound of it gave me butterflies. “He’s had a little bit of a cold, and she wanted someone to keep a close eye on him while she’s out of town.”

“I noticed he’s been a little sick, but he sounds much better now.”

He grinned. “Well, I’m glad you’ve been looking out for him.” 

I smiled back and tried to surreptitiously look at his hand. From what I could tell, he wasn’t wearing a ring. I didn’t have the time or dandelions to ask Russell, but I figured this guy came tortoise-approved.

“It is a nice evening. Care to join me for a glass of wine?”

Russell chirped.