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Jenna continues to scratch Duke’s belly. “Who’s my good boy, huh? Who’s my good boy?”
Now I feel like a third wheel.
I stand up. “Just a word of warning. He may be a good boy, but he’s got a really deadly fart.”
Jenna stops petting Duke and grimaces. “Ew.”
“Especially after a meal,” I add. “Speaking of meals, do you have any request for dinner?”
Jenna gives me a puzzled look. “You’re cooking?”
I nod. “Why are you so surprised? I’ve done it before.”
I’ve been doing it since I was twelve.
She shrugs. “I guess I just thought you had a chef.”
“I said it would just be you and me,” I tell her.
“And Duke,” she adds.
“Well, Duke can eat, but he sure can’t cook,” I say. “So I’ll do it. Besides, I did say I was at your command.”
Plus cooking might help me score some points, remind Jenna of one of the things she liked about me.
Jenna nods. “Yes, you did.”
“So, any requests?” I ask her.
She taps her fingers on her lap, then grins. “Just one. Impress me.”
~
“I must say I am impressed,” Jenna says as she puts down her spoon after having her fill of my shepherd’s pie. “You always did know how to cook, but this time, your cooking skills seem more… refined.”
“You mean worthy of a Michelin star?” I ask.
“Hmm. You’re not quite there yet.” She takes a sip from her glass of wine, then sits back on the couch. “But the flavor and the texture of that pie was great.”
I, too, lean back. “Then I’d say ‘mission accomplished.'”
Jenna nods, then glances at Duke. “I’m sure Duke thinks so, too.”
“Well, he did already eat a big chunk of that pie,” I say. “Then again, Duke eats practically anything. He even ate out of the garbage can once. So I can’t vouch for his sense of taste.”
Jenna frowns and holds up a finger at Duke. “Bad dog.”
Duke gives her a sad look.
“Oh, just kidding.” Jenna pats his head. “I’m sure you couldn’t help it.”
Just like she can’t help petting him. My pal sure has her wrapped around his finger. Or should I say his claw?
Jenna glances at me. “Where did you get him again?”
“England,” I answer.
He was one of the many dogs on my father’s estate and the one who immediately took a liking to me. After that, it was nearly impossible not to reciprocate.
Jenna sinks into the cushions. “You always wanted a dog, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
I remember telling her that.
“If I had to choose between dogs and cats, it would undoubtedly be dogs.” I glance at Duke. “They’re loyal. They’re good company. They’re forgiving. Besides, cats don’t like me. Remember my landlord’s mother’s cat?”
“The chubby orange tabby one?”
“Cheetos. That’s what I called him.”
Jenna nods. “I remember.”
“He liked to sneak into my apartment and wreak havoc on my shelf.”
“I remember that, too.”
I rest my head against the back of the couch. “He could cause trouble even when he wasn’t around. He’d go missing and then my landlord would come knocking at my door just to ask if I’d seen him, sometimes at two in the morning.”
“Mmm-hmm.”
“And last Christmas, remember, when we were snuggling on the couch?”
Jenna falls silent. I frown.
Shit. What am I doing, talking about the past? I’m about to open my mouth to apologize but she speaks first.
“That wasn’t last Christmas,” she says. “That was the other Christmas.”
“Right.”
I consider asking her what she did just last Christmas but dismiss it. My goal here is to make her forget about what I threw away, after all, about the mistake I made. Instead, I have to remind her that I’m here now and that I’m still good for her.
“Do you still read science fiction?” I ask her instead.
“No,” Jenna answers. “I don’t have the time anymore.”
Of course not. She’s probably too busy with work.
“Besides, you’re already doing real science,” I remark.
Jenna says nothing.
“Maybe I should be glad I don’t have to compete with aliens anymore,” I tease.
She snorts. “Was there ever a competition?”
I nod. “You’re right. There wasn’t, because they’re not real and so they can’t return your feelings. They can’t know you. They can’t jump out of a page and touch you the way I did or make your body feel the way I did.”
Again, Jenna falls silent. Fire spreads through her cheeks.
Yup. She remembers it, too.
And she doesn’t like it, I realize as she stands up.
“Thanks for dinner,” she says coldly. “But I’m going to bed.”
Fuck. I’ve said something I shouldn’t again. Why do I keep saying the wrong things and scaring her off?
I get on my feet. “Jenna…”
Suddenly, the lights go off. Except for the flames from the fireplace, the cabin goes dark. And silent.
I grip my hair. “Shit.”
“What’s going on?” Jenna asks.
“A circuit breaker must have tripped, probably because the weather has gone bad.”
I look outside the window. I can barely see anything past the curtain of snow, which moves every now and then with the direction of the wind. In the silence, I hear the crazed wind wail and howl. I frown. The man at the weather station in the village predicted that there was a chance things could get bad tonight. I didn’t think it would be this bad, though.
