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We’ll never be together.
But I can still enjoy this game.
“Enough to know that you used to race some kid, Frankie, to the swing set,” I tell her. “What I want to know is, who usually won?”
I back away, fill a mug for myself, then lower down onto a stool next to her. I’m careful to choose the one to her left so my good ear is closest to her. I don’t want to miss a word she says this morning.
“He did. Every time. And that’s because I was too busy daydreaming to actually make a real effort. So… you heard me talk about Frankie.” She sips her coffee slowly, like she’s now using the drink in her hands as a way to stall.
It’s clear by the thoughtful look in her blue-green eyes that her mental gears are turning. She’s probably realizing that if I heard her discuss her first-grade crush, that means I also heard about her crush on me.
After a long pause, she finally sets her mug down and peers up at me.
The air sizzles, this unspoken thing zipping between us. Ricocheting off me, back to her.
The energy feels good.
Now she knows that I know about her crush.
“You should not have listened to that,” she whispers.
I chuckle. “So, the tables have turned. My assistant’s telling me what I should and shouldn’t do in my own home. Over breakfast.”
“Trying to… but I guess it’s a little late. You already heard.”
“I did.”
More seconds of silence stretch between us.
“I can’t stay for breakfast,” she announces abruptly as she slides the parfait away. “Thank you, but I—I should go.”
“Stay.” I slide the dish back to her.
Then I gesture to the mug. “Have some coffee. Tell me what I should do about the dogs. I can’t do another night like last night, I’ll tell you that much.”
“Were they up a lot?”
“Zoey started barking at three and didn’t stop. I brought her out, and it didn’t seem to matter. She came back in and started right up again. I tried to block the sound out with a pillow.”
“She was probably anxious. It was her first night away from her mamma. Plus, all that time in the car—I bet she didn’t get enough playtime during the day.” Now she reaches for her spoon, finally, and dips it into the layers. “How did Mr. Brown do?”
“Surprisingly well. The old guy didn’t pee on the floor, at least.”
“The expensive marble floor.”
“Exactly. I was even more worried about him coming into my room. I have wall-to-wall carpeting in there.”
“Sounds nice. I mean—for you. Sounds nice for you. The carpeting, I mean. My bedroom has wood floors, but they need to be redone… Ah hem.” She lifts a spoonful of berries and cashew butter. “Well then. Enough talk about our bedrooms. Moving on.”
She’s adorable. “Moving on,” I agree before taking a big bite, too.
She licks her lips. “Mm. This is good. So, I did send out a couple emails first thing, when I woke up. To every dog boarding place here in town, plus Riley, Green River Falls, and Mancos. And I reached out to pet sitters and dog walkers, too. This is a busy time of year. Everyone’s booked up.”
The dogs have stationed themselves by the sliding glass doors. Zoey has a tennis ball in her mouth, and she gnaws it as she presses her wet nose to the glass.
Mr. Brown turns away from the view, ambles by Gwen’s stool, and brushes against her. Gwen reaches down to pet him. She doesn’t seem to mind the fact that her long sweater is now speckled with his rust-colored fur.
“I’d ask Leena, but she’s down to Mondays and Fridays only, and these guys clearly need more than that.”
