Three
O N MONDAY MORNING, I walk Oscar first thing as usual and try not to let my thoughts drift toward Dan.
It’s harder than it should be.
As ridiculous as it sounds, it feels like I had a really good first date over the weekend, and I’m left with all the resulting jitters and flutters.
Nonsense.
That’s what it is.
I know perfectly well there’s no reason to be feeling like that, and if I don’t get it together soon, then I’ll have to start changing plans.
I’m doing this for the money and nothing else. I can’t let any silly romantic impulses carry me along paths that will do nothing but hurt and disappoint me.
So I give myself a firm mental lecture, walking Oscar faster than normal as I do so. We’re both out of breath as I drop him back off at home, but I feel more like my normal, practical, no-nonsense self.
I don’t fall into silly crushes. That’s not what I do.
It’s not going to happen right now.
I’m walking through the blocks of downtown on my way back home to shower and have breakfast before doing the rest of my day’s duties when a tap on the large window of the coffee shop startles me.
Peering through the glass, I see Dan grinning at me.
Not the thing I need to see right now.
I can hardly ignore him, however. We’re supposed to be dating. I stretch my mouth into a bright smile and divert my path to go inside the coffee shop.
I’m not going to buy anything. I can’t afford an expensive coffee every morning when there’s a perfectly good pot waiting at Jim and Esther’s. Instead, I walk over to Dan’s table like I’m ecstatic to see him.
He’s as cute as ever dressed for work in khakis, shirt, and sweater vest. He’s got a laptop on the table in front of him with a large coffee beside it. At his table is the dark-haired woman I’ve identified as his friend Paige.
She smiles as he introduces us and gestures toward the chair beside her. “Please sit. Dan is doing nothing but working this morning.”
He huffs. “You’re one to talk.”
“He’s right,” Paige tells me in a conspiratorial whisper. “It’s only us type As who are here working before work even starts.”
“Do you want coffee, Vicky?” Dan asks.
“Oh, I’m fine.”
He gives me a look that tells me exactly what he thinks of my refusal of his offer. He’s wondering why I’m acting like I don’t want to hang out with him when we’re supposed to be falling in love.
“Just regular coffee with cream, thanks,” I tell him, relenting immediately.
He gets up and strolls over to the counter to order, so I turn back to Paige. “Do you have to do a lot of overtime with your work?”
“Oh no. I don’t have to get there until eight, and I always leave right at five. I get things done pretty quick, so I never have to work extra hours.” She glances at her laptop. “I also have my own business, so that’s what I work on in the off hours.”
“Wow, that’s got to be a lot. What is your side business?”
Paige shows me the website on her laptop that’s a centralized place for local artists and crafters to sell their products. I’m genuinely interested, so it’s not hard to convey enthusiasm for her project, which she’s obviously very proud of.
“Chase, my boyfriend,” she says, “is always trying to get me to work less, so I’ve started working in the mornings when he’s not here yet.”
I remember Chase well. That cute, relaxed guy who works in this coffee shop in the evenings.
“I guess you’re an early riser too,” she says, “since you have to get started on dog-walking at the crack of dawn.”
“Yeah. But that’s mostly because I have this job. I’m not naturally a crack-of-dawn person. I don’t know that I’m really a type A. I just do what I need to do for the job I’m given.”
“That makes sense. A lot of times, I wish I was more like that. But some of us like to keep the whole world in order.”
I laugh since she’s obviously making light of her nature. “Well, it needs to be put into order, so someone’s got to do it. And at least it’s something you do naturally.”
“Exactly right. And what do you do naturally?” She appears to really want to know.
I normally wouldn’t open up to a near stranger like this, but I’m supposed to be getting close to Dan, which means I can’t slam a door in the face of his friend. So I say, “I was raised by a single mom who taught me to be independent and self-reliant and not depend on other people, so I think that’s what I do naturally.”
“Really?” She cocks her head, peering at me closely. “You come across so bright and sunny. I’d never have known you were like that.” She’s not insulting me. If anything, she seems to like me better now than she did before.
I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s not like I don’t like people or anything like that, but in some way that’s just the way I’ve found to get through life. I don’t feel... soft.”
I feel someone moving behind me. Dan. He sets my coffee on the table. I have no idea how much of our conversation he heard.
Paige continues as if his presence isn’t an interruption. “I never really felt like a soft person either. Or rather, I kept all my softness hidden deep inside. It wasn’t until Chase came along and coaxed it out of me that I was comfortable showing it to anyone else.” She glances over at Dan like she’s thinking something she doesn’t say out loud.
The look makes me grow hot. Not because what she’s thinking is true but because it’s not. Dan’s not going to be coaxing any softness out of me.
I’m going to have to make sure he doesn’t.
“How’s Oscar this morning?” Dan asks as if he senses I’ve had as much of this conversation as I can handle.
“He’s good,” I say with a wide smile. “He didn’t jump up on anyone and get their nice clothes all muddy today, so I call that a good morning.”
Dan chuckles. “I told you it wasn’t a big deal.”
“I know. I still feel bad. He’s the sweetest boy, but he doesn’t understand how to restrain his enthusiasm.”
“How many dogs do you walk?” Paige asks.
“Between eight or ten every day. But then there are others that I stop by their places to feed or let out to go to the bathroom. I stay pretty busy with them, but some days are busier than others.” I glance at my watch, taking a big swallow of my coffee. “Speaking of, I better run home and shower and dress before I do my next round.”
Neither Paige nor Dan object to my statement, but after I say goodbye to Paige, Dan gets up to walk me outside to the sidewalk.
“I hope I didn’t make you late,” he murmurs, standing very close to me. “I was afraid it would look strange not to get your attention when we saw you walking by.”
“It’s fine. I’m not late. Thanks for the coffee.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiles—a slow kind of smile that gradually warms his face and eyes. It’s really quite compelling. “So we’re good for lunch tomorrow?”
“Yep.” He’s already confirmed our lunch date several times, but I understand the impulse. Our whole situation is a bit odd. “I’ll see you then.”
He shifts slightly, and for a moment I yet again think he’s going to lean down to kiss me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lifts a hand and runs his fingers down a piece of hair that’s escaped my ponytail, giving it a gentle tug when he gets to the end.
He turns around and walks back into the coffee shop.
I’m all jittery again, and it’s starting to get annoying.
I really need to do better than this.
***
O N THURSDAY, THE PART -timer at Lock-N-Leash who usually handles evening tasks is sick, so I agree to do the late doggie-daycare walk.
Throughout the day, most of the dogs in daycare get walked at least once in groups. The five-thirty walk consists of only three easy dogs, and they get walked one lap around the park, so it only takes twenty minutes. I have plenty of time to fit it in before I meet Dan at the coffee shop at six.
All three of the dogs are cuties. A ten-year-old bichon frise, a black-and-white cockapoo, and a king-of-the-world Chihuahua. They’re friendly, well behaved, and clearly as proud of their little walk as if they’d hiked up Kilimanjaro. I’m on my way to drop them back at Lock-N-Leash when I nearly run into Paige, who is glancing at something on the phone as she heads toward the coffee shop.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaims as I pull my three dogs out of her path. “I know better than to walk and read at the same time.”
“No worries.” I smile at her because she’s Dan’s friend and because I genuinely like her. “Down, Ajax! No jumping.”
The feisty Chihuahua gives me a haughty look for ruining his attempt to extend a proper greeting but obediently plants four feet on the sidewalk. After asking me for permission, Paige leans over and gives all three of them a head scratch in turn. “Aren’t you normally done working by now?” she asks.
“I am. I picked up the extra walk because someone was sick.”
“You should come on over when you’re done then.” She nods toward the coffee shop. “I think Dan is supposed to be here this evening.”
“He is. I’m supposed to meet him there at six.”
“Oh good.” Paige’s smile is warm and genuine. “How’s everything going with you two?”
Hit with a wave of self-consciousness, I force myself not to brush off the question. “Fine, I think. You might need to ask Dan.”
“I have asked Dan, and he thinks it’s going a lot better than fine.”
I blush at her teasing look but figure it’s an appropriate reaction for someone who is in the process of falling in love. “That’s good then.”
Paige laughs. “But Dan would probably be over the moon if you did nothing but smile in his direction, so I’m not sure he’s the best person to give me an accurate report.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean he’s crazy about you.” She gives a little twitch when she sees me blink, her expression changing. “Shit, you already knew that, didn’t you? It’s been obvious from the beginning. Even before he met you, he’d stare every time you walked down the street. But if he’s been trying to play it cool with you, he’s going to be so mad at me for saying something.”
Flushing hotly now, I’m trapped by confusion and embarrassment (and emotional pleasure I can’t seem to deny). I have no idea how to respond to her. Dan has clearly done a very good job of pretending to be swept away by feelings for me. He’s evidently concocted an entire backstory of feelings for me that is convincing Paige at the very least. “Oh,” I mumble. “I mean...”
Paige laughs again, clearly reading my confusion for an admission. “So you do know. I didn’t think he’d have much luck at playing cool.”
With great effort, I manage to find my composure again. “It has happened pretty quickly for us. And the truth is I’m completely into him too.”
Paige grins. “Thank goodness. I don’t usually put my foot in my mouth like that, and Dan might not forgive me if I said something to scare you off.”
“I’m definitely not scared off.”
I’m a nervous, fluttery mess, and if this relationship with Dan was real, I might, in fact, be scared off by it moving so fast. But it’s not real. None of it is. So I have nothing to be scared about.
I’ve told Paige I’d see her in a few minutes, right after I drop the dogs off, when a voice calls from down the block. “Vicky!”
It’s Dan. He’s obviously driven downtown right from work. He’s still wearing nice trousers and a sage-green shirt and carrying his laptop case. He’s jogging to get over to us.
With a chuckle, Paige reaches for the door of the coffee shop and nods toward Dan. “Case in point.”
While I know he’s not running over to me with that look on his face because he’s falling in love with me, he is doing a very good job with the pretense. He’s flushed and smiling when he reaches me. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I clear my throat when Ajax once again tries to jump up in greeting.
The dog sits, slants me a dirty look, and then peers up expectantly at Dan.
He immediately leans over to greet Ajax and then the other, less demanding dogs.
“I thought you’d have been done by now,” he says after straightening up.
“I should be, but I picked up this one last walk. I’m on my way back to drop them off.”
Dan walks with me the half block to Lock-N-Leash and then waits outside while I bring them inside and then sign out.
When I come back out to where he’s standing, he asks, “What were you and Paige talking about?”
“She was asking about how things were going between us. You’ve clearly given her the impression that you’re crazy about me.”
Dan’s expression is utterly unfazed. “Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do?”
“Yes. But I think you’re doing it better than me.”
“You’re doing just fine. I think it’s probably realistic that I’d fall first.”
“Why is that more realistic?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. It just is.”
“Your friends know that you need to marry to get access to your trust fund, don’t they?”
“Sure, they know.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t ask one of them.”
“What do you mean?” He’s frowning slightly in visible confusion.
Embarrassed I brought up the topic at all, I reply in a slightly stretched voice. “I don’t know. Just that it would have made sense for you to ask a friend to marry you—just as a friendly, practical thing—instead of asking me.” When he doesn’t answer, I feel even more frazzled, so I babble on, “That would probably make things awkward, so I guess I can see why you wouldn’t do that. I know I’m the person who most needs the money, but I’m still surprised I’m the first person you asked.”
For the first time, Dan’s expression tightens—as if he’s uncomfortable.
“Not that I’m complaining,” I add in a rush. “I’m glad you asked me.”
He nods. He’s not meeting my eyes. “I’m glad too. You were the right person. You want to head for the coffee shop now?”
I drop the subject gratefully, wishing I’d never brought it up.
***
O N SATURDAY MORNING , I should be getting ready for a day on a sailboat with Dan, but instead, I’m helping to deal with a plumbing emergency.
A pipe burst on the second floor and caused water to gush through the ceiling and into the kitchen downstairs.
I was awakened this morning by Esther’s cry of dismay on coming downstairs to discover the disaster, and the morning hasn’t improved from there.
At 8:12, I’m still on my hands and knees trying to mop up remaining puddles of water on the floor, having already worked on the water all over the stove and countertops. Jim managed to get the water to stop streaming down through what’s now a hole in the ceiling by shutting off the main water supply in the house.
Which means no shower and no coffee this morning.
Dan is supposed to show up at eight thirty for our second big weekend “date,” which this weekend is boating on the lake. I’m still in my pajama pants and tank top—both old and unflattering and now damp from my cleanup efforts. My hair is pulled up messily with a big clip, and I’m not anywhere close to ready to present myself to the world at large.
Jim is upstairs pretending to be able to tinker with the pipe, and Esther is on the phone, beginning a frantic search for a plumber who can make it out here today.
A few minutes later, there’s a knock on the door.
“Oh no,” I mumble, praying it’s not Dan here already. “Oh no, oh no, oh no.”
I’m still mumbling out the refrain when I hear Esther’s hassled voice. “Oh, Dan, good morning. Come on in. We’re kind of a mess this morning.”
I’m trying to shape a smile on my face when he appears in the doorway of the kitchen.
“This doesn’t look good,” he says, his eyes moving from the ceiling to the kitchen fixtures to me trying to heft myself up to my feet. He’s wearing tan trousers, an untucked light blue button-up, and boat shoes, and he’s holding a carrier with four cups of what must be coffee. “What bad luck.”
“It’s terrible,” Esther says, coming into the kitchen behind him. “I have no idea how it happened. Poor Jim is up there convinced he can somehow fix it enough for us to turn the water back on.”
“Surely plumbers will take emergency calls on the weekends,” I say, crossing my arms on my chest because it feels like my tank displays too much of my braless boobs. “I’m sorry I’m not ready yet,” I add. “I can—”
“No, it’s fine,” Dan says, setting down the carrier of cups on the kitchen table. “I’m glad I thought to bring coffee since it looks like y’all need it.”
Esther picks up one of the coffees. “Thank you for this. What a mess. I can’t reach an actual person yet at any of the plumbers I tried.”
“Maybe Lance knows someone,” I suggest. “He seems to have connections everywhere.”
“I hate to bug them so early on a Saturday morning,” Esther says with a sigh. “But I guess I’ll have to if I can’t reach anyone.”
I know exactly how Esther feels—understanding that there are people who would be happy to help but you’d be reluctant to lay your problems on them anyway. My heart goes out to her even though there’s no rational reason not to ask her incredibly competent and connected son-in-law for help.
Dan has been looking between me and Esther. “Let me think a minute,” he says. “I might know someone.” Something must occur to him because enlightenment dawns on his face. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he makes a gesture that says hold on as he steps out of the kitchen.
I grab my cup of coffee—he’s labeled one with my name and it has just the right amount of cream in it—and listen to him talking on the phone to someone who sounds like a coworker. He’s asking if he’s remembering right that his uncle owns a plumbing company.
Apparently he does remember right. In less than two minutes, he’s making another call and explaining the situation to whoever picked up. Esther and I exchange looks of relief as we hear him giving our address and then thanking whoever he’s talking to.
“He said he’s going to send someone right out,” Dan announces as he comes back into the room. He’s still smiling with that laid-back good humor that belies how efficient and on the ball he really is.
“Thank you so much,” I say in chorus with Esther who says the exact same thing.
“It’s no problem at all. Why don’t we postpone the boating, and I can help y’all out here this morning instead?”
I’m relieved by his suggestion. There’s no way I feel like going on a fake date today.
“Oh no, I can’t let you do that,” Esther says. “You’re young, and you need to have fun.”
“I’m not going to have much fun if I’m worried about you dealing with this mess,” I explain. “So we can help you clean up and wait for the plumber and then figure out what to do about the damage to the floor upstairs and the ceiling here.” When Esther looks like she’s going to argue some more, I add, “We can hang out this afternoon after everything is taken care of.”
“If you’re sure. We’d be just fine. We’re used to dealing with stuff on our own.”
“Savannah isn’t going to be happy you didn’t let her know about it unless you can tell her you already had all the help you needed.” I say that because it’s true and because I’m pretty sure it will settle the last of her objections.
It does. “I guess that’s true. She already does way too much for her old parents when she should be living her own life.”
“Maybe part of her life is being with you and Jim.” I give her arm a quick squeeze—she’s not a touchy person and would not appreciate a hug—and then step over to Dan. “We can probably manage on our own if you’d rather—”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” he drawls. “You’re exactly like your aunt. You know that, right?”
Esther gets a good laugh out of that, and even I can’t help but smile. “Fine. You can help. As long as you can keep from being obnoxious about it.”
***
D AN ISN’T OBNOXIOUS , despite my teasing. He is, in fact, one of the least obnoxious men I’ve ever met. He’s in a good mood as he helps us finish cleaning the mess in the kitchen and then waits for the plumber and then calls up another of his friends for a recommendation on someone to fix the ceiling and floor.
By lunchtime the pipe is fixed, the water back on, the other work scheduled for Monday afternoon, and I’ve taken a shower and changed into jeans and a fitted white top. Esther insists on cooking us lunch, so we have chicken tortilla soup with cornbread. Dan appears to enjoy it as much as I do.
Esther and Jim are both thoroughly charmed by him. It’s impossible not to recognize that. They know our relationship is about money and won’t last, but they act like we’re a real couple.
It makes me uncomfortable. And gives me more of those same flutters I’ve been trying hard to obliterate.
After lunch, I expect Dan to leave since it’s been a tiring day already and there’s nothing left to do to fix the crisis. But he asks if I want to hang out in the park by the lake since it’s such a nice day.
I can think of no reason not to agree with that plan. He stops at one of the gourmet shops in town and buys some snacks for later, and then we take a leisurely stroll in the park and find a comfortable spot in the grass in the shade to hang out on a blanket for a while.
I read for a few minutes until I can’t keep my eyes open. Then I actually drift off into a light doze for almost an hour while Dan lounges beside me, listening to music through his earbuds.
When I finally wake up again, I’m embarrassed and disoriented, but there’s no reason to be. Dan acts like going to sleep on our “date” was the most natural thing in the world. We eat the grapes, bread, cheese, and light, fizzy wine he bought and chat about nothing consequential.
It’s a great afternoon after a morning that definitely could have been worse.
The last thing in the world I would have expected from the day.
“You were really good with Jim and Esther this morning,” I say after a minute of comfortable silence.
He turns those silvery-gray eyes back to my face. “You think so?”
“Yeah. I do. They’re as self-sufficient as I am, so I’m still not sure how you managed to get them to let you help them so much.”
“I’m glad I was able to help.” He pauses. “And I’m used to that kind of thing.”
“You are? Why? Were your parents like them?”
“Not exactly. But my mom has always been a little bit needy and my dad kind of disconnected, so it felt like I often picked up the slack. They got divorced when I was fifteen. My dad stayed in Green Valley, and I moved with my mom to Raleigh for a few years before she and my dad reconciled. So I think I’ve had a lot of practice in helping out with family without making a big deal about it.”
I think about that. Think about him. “You probably took good care of them, but who took care of you?”
His mouth twitches slightly, like he’s surprised and almost pleased by the question. “I bet I could ask you the exact same thing and get a similar answer.”
I lean back on the blanket, staring up at the very blue sky. “I guess so. But you didn’t turn out like I did—committed to being self-sufficient. You don’t seem to have a lot of trouble connecting to people.”
“Is that what you think?”
I peer over at him. “Isn’t it true? You have tons of friends, and everyone loves you, and I’ve never met a single person who didn’t testify that you’re a great guy.”
“I do have friends. And they know me as much as anyone does. But I’m not sure how deeply I’ve actually connected. There’s always a pretty big part of me I hold back.”
I’m oddly touched by the admission. “I get that. I suppose that’s why you’ve cultivated that laid-back, casual air. Like nothing really gets to you. Holds people off from seeing into you too deeply.”
His mouth turns up in a small smile that feels intimate.
Intimate.
“Maybe we have more in common than we thought.”
“Maybe we do,” I admit, closing my eyes again as I think about it.
Maybe it’s not as scary as I think it is. Maybe it’s okay to get to know him like this. Understand him. Appreciate him.
After all, we can connect to people we don’t fall in love with.
Maybe I can focus on connecting to Dan that way.