Thursday evening, Rob found himself sneaking glances out the front window of his house, waiting for Mia’s little car to pull up. When it finally did, he grinned. Hugo looked enormous sitting in the passenger seat, ears pricked and tongue lolling. The dog waited patiently while Mia unbuckled his harness from the contraption that attached him to the seat belt—his “car seat” Rob had joked when Mia had first shown it to him—and the dog walked at Mia’s side to the front door, not ranging around or pulling on his leash.
“Dad, we’re here,” Mia called as she opened the front door. “Your grandpuppy is ready for his visit.”
“And granddad is ready for his grandpuppy,” Rob said, coming into the entryway and dropping a kiss on Mia’s cheek before he sank to his knees and rubbed Hugo’s head. “Who’s a handsome boy? Do you take after your granddad?”
Hugo panted and squeezed his eyes shut, haunches thumping to the floor.
“Seriously, Mia. He’s looking great. And obedience training looks like it’s going well, too.”
“Yeah, we’re working hard at it.” Mia trailed a fingertip between the dog’s ears and Hugo looked up at her, mouth closing, attentive to her voice.
Rob unbuckled Hugo’s harness and took the tote bag Mia transported the dog’s things in when he visited. “No change in the routine?”
“Nope. He’s had a little separation anxiety lately, but I’m hoping that’s a phase. I have his crate in the car. I’ve been crating him again at night, which seems to help.”
“Dogs like their dens,” Rob said. “Let me help you get it out.”
Following Mia to her car, Rob wondered at the strange, almost wistful tone that seemed to come and go as she spoke. He knew better than to press, though. Mia would clam up if you tried to get her to open up before she was ready to talk about a thing. Instead, he wrestled the folded crate out of Mia’s car and brought it inside, setting it up in a corner of his bedroom and lining it with the fluffy blanket Mia had brought from her apartment. He patted the blanket and looked at Hugo, who had followed them. “Nice place to sleep for you while you’re here, Hugo.” The dog stepped readily into the crate, turned in a circle, and dropped to lie down, heaving a huge sigh. “Yeah. He’s going to be more comfortable with his own spot. Thanks for bringing it, honey. That couldn’t have been easy to wrangle on your own.”
“No biggie. Thanks again, Dad.” Mia hugged him around the waist, hard.
“Oof. You’re welcome.” He patted her back, trying to think of a sly way to broach the topic of her odd manner when the doorbell rang.
“You expecting someone?” Mia looked up at him.
“Nope. Probably someone selling siding.”
“Then go send him about his business, Pops.”
“Aye aye, Admiral.” Rob gave an exaggerated salute and Mia groaned.
“Dad. You’re such a dork.”
Kari fidgeted on Rob’s doorstep, wishing she had thought to get his cell phone number last weekend. But no. He was right next door, so why should she need his number?
Well, she needed it because she wanted to see if he was willing to be her “bozo buffer” on Sunday evening. And she’d prefer to be shot down over the phone. Much less humiliating than in person. But no. She had tried to think of a different alternative for days, but Sapna was right. Rob was the perfect candidate.
For bozo buffer.
She needed to think of a better term. Fast. Now. Before the door opened.
Rob opened the door. Oh. She hadn’t remembered quite how handsome he was. And the smile that lit his eyes gave her that tingly feeling again.
A curly head popped out from behind him. Oh, crap. Huge mistake. Rob hadn’t mentioned a girlfriend. Kari’s molasses-slow brain took in the woman’s unlined face. A girlfriend…maybe half his age?
Kari’s smile froze on her face as the whole scene careered into a slow-motion train wreck.
“Hi!” The petite, curly-headed brunette darted around Rob, sticking her hand out. Kari extended her own hand, her reactions seeming slow compared to the tiny woman before her. “I’m Mia,” the pixie said, and comprehension washed over Kari.
“Oh!” Kari’s hand engulfed Mia’s. Now the young woman’s face seemed perfectly familiar from the photos of her that littered the house. His daughter, fool. “I’m Kari. It’s so nice to meet you. Rob’s said so many great things about you.” Of course he had. She was his daughter. Mia was going to think she was the worst kind of suck-up.
Mia’s gaze scanned Kari’s face, her expression unreadable as she withdrew her hand. “You must be the mysterious new neighbor.”
Kari’s laugh sounded brittle in her own ears. “Not so mysterious. Clueless, yeah. Your dad’s been a big help.”
Mia poked Rob in the belly and he responded by giving what looked like a very practiced, very over the top impression of having been stabbed, grunting dramatically as he bent over, clutching his stomach and groaning. “Yeah, Pops is good people.” At that point, a black and brown furry face peered around from behind Rob’s legs. Mia pointed into the house. “Hugo. Back inside, boy.”
The dog gave Kari an inscrutable look before retreating back into Rob’s house. “How about we all go inside,” Rob said. “Are you having problems with your house?” he asked Kari as he retreated backwards into the entryway.
Before Kari could try to calculate how embarrassing it would be to ask Rob if he’d come to dinner at her house in front of his daughter, Mia said, “I gotta get going, Dad. I’ll see you Saturday to pick up the furball. Thanks for taking him for me.”
Rob bent to kiss her on the cheek. “No problem. But I wish you’d stay for dinner.”
“No time. Rain check.” Mia pointed at him with a fierce look. “And be sure to feed yourself before you get hangry. You know how you get.”
“Yes ma’am.” Rob performed an exaggerated salute. “Have fun doing…whatever you won’t tell me you’re doing.” A pang went through Kari at their interaction. Their banter reminded her of how she and Sam had been in happier times.
“Don’t worry. I’ll tell you later. I don’t want to jinx it.”
“Thanks. Now I’m even more curious.”
Mia stuck out her tongue. “Suffer. Just like you made me do on my tenth birthday.”
“It’s not my fault you’re gullible.”
“Yes, it is. Genetics.”
“Oof.” He reprised his stabbed act, but this time he seemed to feign a flesh wound, not a mortal one.
“The truth hurts, Dad.” Mia turned and gave Kari a brief wave and an enigmatic look. “Nice to meet you, Kari.” She bent to thump her palm against the dog, who had come out again and was leaning into her legs, looking up at her with what must be canine devotion. Kari didn’t know much about dogs but Hugo’s gaze seemed…soulful. Intense. “Be good for granddad, fuzzball.” And with that, she was off, walking to a tiny subcompact parked at the curb.
“Wow,” Kari said as they watched Mia drive away. “She’s…”
“A tiny tyrant,” Rob said, affection suffusing his face as he stepped back into the house, ushering the dog inside and waving for Kari to follow.
Kari stepped over the threshold. “I was going to say, ‘very self-possessed.’ But you know her best.”
“Both are accurate.”
“What happened on her tenth birthday?”
He turned to face her, a sheepish look on his face. “I convinced her she wasn’t getting the bike she wanted so desperately. Which of course I had bought for her. She was more furious than gratified when her birthday rolled around and there it was.”
“Ouch.”
“Seemed like a good idea at the time. I guess she’s scarred by the experience,” he said dryly.
“Completely. Very badly-adjusted young woman you got there,” Kari said, piling on the sarcasm.
“Anyway.” Rob folded his arms across his chest. “What can I do you for?”
Kari paused, his closed stance throwing her off.
“We’re still on for Saturday, right?” he asked, his voice carrying an anxious edge.
“Oh! Yes.” Kari, focused on Sunday’s dinner, had almost forgotten about Saturday’s painting appointment.
“Decided what room you want to paint?”
“Um. Yeah.” It was her bedroom. And now that felt awkward. In fact, the whole interchange seemed to be spiraling into a black hole of awkward.
“Care to share what room?”
“My bedroom?”
“Was that a question or an answer?”
“An answer.” Kari took a deep breath. “But I have another favor to ask you.” She felt her mouth skewing in an apologetic twist.
“Seems dire, if you’re making that face. What is it?”
Kari exhaled her response in a rush. “Come to dinner on Sunday?”
Crap. Crap, crap, crapshit. This was why he avoided even becoming friends with single women. It always went there. Then it went ugly. He opened his mouth to try to let her down easy, but Kari went on, her words tumbling out.
“Not a date.” Her cheeks were flushed. Beyond pink, definitely red. “It’s just that I’m having Sam and her new guy over for dinner. And I need a bozo buffer.”
“Bozo buffer?” He couldn’t help the startled laugh that erupted from his lips.
“Oh, God.” Kari’s hands clapped to her flaming cheeks, then slid up to cover her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I’m terrible at this.”
“What is ‘this’?”
“I don’t even know. Don’t worry. I’m not asking for a date or anything. Just someone to…”
“Buff bozos?”
“I’m sorry,” she said again. “I can’t believe I said that. It’s just my colleague’s term for someone who is invited over to make an awkward dinner less…awkward.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. He wished she’d stop saying that. “I—I’ll leave. I’ve made a mess of everything. I understand if you don’t want to paint on Saturday. Or have anything to do with me ever again.” She extended a hand, palm out, her face averted as she turned to go.
He touched her wrist. “No, Kari. Stop.” She paused, looking from his hand to his face and he withdrew. “I want to teach you to paint. And I’d be happy to buffer bozos. Can I bring anything?”
Kari, whose eyes hadn’t left his face, frowned. “You’re…willing to do this?”
He shrugged. “It’s dinner. I’ve met Sam once. It seems pretty low-stress.”
“Even knowing what you know about our history?”
“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to be there for? So that doesn’t come up?”
Kari grimaced. “Uh. Yeah. I guess that’s the idea.”
“So, when do I show up with a bottle of wine and a dampening effect on overly personal conversations?”
Kari’s eyes widened, the color in her cheeks ebbing. “Six?”
“Sure. Red or white wine?”
“What?”
“I’m very good at bringing the wine. Red or white?”
“Oh. I don’t know. I was going to make pot roast.”
“Red wine, then.”
Kari’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me.”
“I like you.” Apparently, blurting out whatever came into your head was contagious. Kari’s eyes were wary now. “Don’t worry. I’m not propositioning you.” Though he was aware of a perverse sense of disappointment threading through him to know that she hadn’t been asking him for a date.
Make up your mind, Fox. Either you want her or you don’t.
And you do, but you know why you can’t act on it. Remember. You’re a dating disaster. She lives next door. Bad combination.
Kari swallowed, her throat convulsing. “Thanks. I owe you.”
“Not at all. You’re feeding me, right?”
She laughed. “Yeah. That’s kind of the point of dinner.”
“And here I was, thinking it was about avoiding awkwardness.”
Kari waved a hand as if bidding farewell to something receding in the distance. “That ship has sailed. Rest in peace, the idea that my life can be free of drama or awkwardness.”
Rob laughed. “See you on Saturday morning to go to the home center and pick out paint?”
“Eight if you want breakfast.” Kari made finger-guns with both hands and winked.
“You’re on.” Rob opened the door for her and she slipped out, still looking a little sheepish. As he was flipping the deadbolt, his phone buzzed in his back pocket. He pulled it out. A text from Mia.
I like her. You should date her.
Kari fled back to her house as if the hounds of hell were on her trail. Or the hounds of awkward.
And awkward was probably a circle of hell that, if it hadn’t been invented yet, definitely needed to be invented. And it definitely had hounds. But instead of striking terror, they probably made you cringe in embarrassment.
She’d prefer the terror.
Back inside her own walls, Kari’s rapidly thudding heart slowed. Her eyes scanned across the motif she had painted over the archway to the dining room. The blue symbols were like a talisman now, a shiny stone you kept in your pocket and rubbed your fingers across for luck.
Get yourself together, Halvorsen.
Another cringe-hound hit her full in the chest. She had to let Sam know there was going to be one more at her dinner. Digging her phone out of her pocket, mentally composed a text. Swallowing hard, she typed.
Hey Sammie. Neighbor Rob will also be at dinner Sunday, just FYI.
Sam must have had her phone near at hand, because her response was almost immediate.
Oh? She appended a “thinking” emoji.
Kari’s heart sped up again. Crap. She had been so focused on finding a bozo buffer, she hadn’t considered how it would look to Sam. She wanted Sam to like him and if her niece thought he was a missed love connection, that wouldn’t go well. She glanced at the motif on the wall, then the glowing color of the dining room, the alterations to her home giving her an idea.
Yeah. I owe him. He’s helped me with a few things in the new place. Is that ok?
Dots pulsed and Sam’s answer popped onto Kari’s screen. It’s your place. Your dinner. Your call.
That was right. To a point. She had invited Sam and Graham to build bridges. But Rob was there as a sort of wall.
He’s been great, she typed. I really do owe him.
Great. Look forward to getting to know him. Sam’s response made Kari breathe a little easier until dots pulsed across her phone’s screen again. Kari braced for a question or innuendo.
But no, Sam just sent a winking emoji.