19. Born to Run

On Monday morning, Jacki kissed Josh goodbye as he walked out the door, and slowly walked back to the bedroom. The usual dilemma presented itself.

I could go back to bed, she thought, staring at the lovely warm down comforter. It looked so inviting, just waiting for her to slip back in. The fall morning was so cold . . .

No! She thought, You always do this! Don’t do it! She squared her shoulders and turned towards the closet door.

I want to go running, she thought next, I really do. She hurried into her sweats and t-shirt and found her runners at the back of the closet, thinking that actually she really hated running, hated how her lungs hurt from the cold air, hated how quickly her feet felt heavy. But today it wasn’t even raining. There was no excuse.

With all the willpower she could muster, Jacki managed to propel herself out the door and walk towards the track that was down the hill from the library. The morning sun was starting to dry out the soggy leaves and puddles that seemed to be a permanent part of the landscape in the fall.

Jacki reached the track. There were three or four other joggers and a few pairs of walkers going around the track. 10 laps. That’s all I have to do. Jacki set her pace and was soon passing most of the other joggers. By lap three, she hit her stride and realized she was actually enjoying herself. Her legs felt long, her strides easy, her arms swinging in perfectly coordinated rhythm.

After seven laps, Jacki was closing the space between her and a jogger who had just joined the track. The pink jogging suit looked awfully familiar.

“Hi Verna!” panted Jacki, happy to have an excuse to slow her pace, “How are you doing?”

“Hi Jacki! I didn’t know you liked jogging.” Verna was wearing her usual bright red lipstick. Jacki smiled.

“I don’t,” said Jacki, “but if Josh takes the car to work, I can’t get to our gym and I’m too lazy to go at night. So jogging it is . . . ”

“I just do a few laps everyday while George walks Leroy,” Verna said, “I can’t walk him, he’s too strong for me.”

They jogged Jacki’s last three laps together. Jacki sat down on a spot of dry ground to stretch. Verna joined her.

“I don’t stretch enough,” Verna laughed, “I’ve never been able to touch my toes.”

“Josh always reminds me to stretch,” Jacki rolled her eyes, “Sometimes it’s so annoying to live with an athletic trainer.”

“Hmm,” said Verna sympathetically, “but at least you live with someone who is concerned about taking care of his health.”

“True,” said Jacki, “If I were the athletic trainer, I think it would be much worse. I’d probably be nagging him to go to the gym all the time.”

Verna laughed, “I used to do that, before we got Leroy.” She smiled reminiscently, “Suddenly George had to exercise, two to three times a day . . . somehow Leroy just wouldn’t obey me the way he obeyed George.” She looked so mischievous for a second that Jacki wondered if she had faked being unable to walk the dog.

“Henry is my pet,” Verna explained, “Cats don’t require walking. In fact, Henry is so anti-exercise that when I try to put my runners on, he comes over and bats his fluffy tail over my laces, making it almost impossible for me to tie my shoes without getting his tail caught.”

“What!?” Jacki laughed, “That’s hilarious!” They both got up and started the walk back to 515 Walnut Street.

“I do like exercising,” Jacki said, “I love the feeling afterward when all my muscles are warm and my senses feel a hundred times more alive.” Verna nodded.

“I just have a hard time convincing myself it’s worth it, when I’m cold and groggy in the morning,” Jacki’s tone changed to disgust, “Josh is a morning person. I don’t understand how you can be so energetic the minute you wake up.”

“George shares your feelings,” Verna laughed, “It was as huge disappointment to me when we first got married that he  didn’t want to get up just 30 minutes earlier so that we could enjoy our morning breakfast together. He used to cram toast down his throat on the way out the door.”

“I’m totally like that,” Jacki laughed, “I used to take my instant oatmeal to work where they have instant hot water on the coffee machine, just so I wouldn’t have to wait for the water to boil at home. Sometimes it seems like I was ‘born to sleep’ instead of ‘born to run’.”

“Well, then I was born to bake!” said Verna, as they reached the entrance to their building, “Come on up with me and let’s have some coffee cake to balance out all that exercise.”

18. Halloween habits

Richard sighed as he walked into work on October 25th. He hated this time of year for two reasons. 1. His co-workers pressured him into attending their horrible Halloween parties 2. He could never think of a clever costume and 3. It meant that Thanksgiving was the next big holiday and his mother would be waiting to latch another “suitable” female onto him at dinner. So really that was three reasons.

He tried to avoid eye contact as he walked past several desks. He knew it wouldn’t help. Just as he reached the door to his office, it happened, as it always did, without fail.

“Hey Richard,” called Samantha, from her cubicle, “You’ve got to come to my Halloween party – everyone will be there! 7:00 p.m. sharp, ok?”

Richard nodded, and closed his office door. He wondered if they invited him every year to laugh at how boring he was. The first year, he had worn jeans and a flannel shirt but nobody recognized that he was supposed to be a cowboy. He just couldn’t bring himself to waste money on a real costume. It’s just not me, he thought.

He turned on his computer and opened his email for the day. Samantha had sent a party invite to all of the staff with a picture of her vampire costume from the year before. She even wore that to work, he remembered. Seriously, some people carried this Halloween business way too far.

At lunch, after receiving several reminders and a copy of directions to Samantha’s house, he resigned himself to the inevitable and made a short list in his notebook.

Cop

Cook

He paused, trying to think. Then he crossed Cook out, pretty sure he had worn his BBQ apron three years go. Another big sigh escaped him. His hand hovered over the paper, waiting for more ideas.

Monk.

No, he thought. They would get too much mileage out of that one. Everyone knew he hadn’t been on a non-Mother arranged date in years. Then it hit him.

Artist

He jotted down “ask Blythe?” and also, “smock, palette, beret, paint brush?”

He almost smiled. This costume could actually work.

When he got home from work, he gave himself a pep-talk.

“All you have to do, is walk up the stairs and ring her doorbell.” Richard grimaced. Maybe it was wrong to only talk to her because he needed something from her. Maybe he should just go to the gallery tomorrow at lunch and buy the supplies from her. But then he would have to tell her it was for a Halloween costume and she would say “Why didn’t you just ask me if you could borrow something?” with a friendly smile and he would end up stuttering. Maybe this costume wasn’t going to work after all.

He opened his door and peered up the stairwell. It looked quite dark. Maybe she’s out for the evening, he thought, I still have five days before the party. He quickly closed the door.

Richard talked himself out of ringing Blythe’s doorbell on the 26th and on the 27th. On the 28th, in a fit of sudden determination, he managed to get up the stairwell. He rang the doorbell twice. There was no sound in the apartment. He waited for a few minutes and then tried again. Definitely not home. He slumped back down to his apartment in a bad mood. He only had a few more days.

I can’t believe I have to waste stress on this, he thought angrily.

At the back of his closet, he pulled out the one costume he did own from a random college skit. A monk’s habit. He threw it on the bed and stared at it, hating Halloween and the adults that still thought it fun to dress up ridiculously, perpetuating a meaningless holiday year after year.

Suddenly, he heard yapping. Cooper! He rushed to his door and yanked it open. Blythe jumped.

“Hi” said Richard breathlessly. Cooper growled at him.

“Hi?” said Blythe, looking confused.

“Sorry I scared you,” he said, looking down at Cooper apologetically.

“That’s ok,” she said, “did you need something?”

“Yes,” said Richard, looking back at her, “Well, it’s stupid really . . . ” He could feel the blush starting.

“What?” she asked and smiled at him encouragingly. He threw himself on her mercy.

“I have to go to my co-worker’s Halloween party,” he burst out, “I hate going to these things, they’re horrible, I don’t know why everyone loves this holiday. ”

She nodded sympathetically. Richard took a deep breath,

“I thought maybe I could go as an artist but I don’t any costume stuff, well only a monk’s habit . . .” he trailed off, totally embarrassed now. Why had he mentioned the monk’s habit?!? Why?

Blythe laughed,

“I can see why you need help,” she said, “Do you want to borrow a palette and some brushes from me? I think I even have a beret somewhere.”

“That would be great!”

“Come on up, and I’ll get it out for you,” said Blythe, “All you have to do is wear all black. You’ll be perfect.”

A tidbit

The fog drifts in around the rooftops

Swirls halfway up the pines – then settles

As if to say, “I’m lazy”

It clings to branches, even as

The sun bursts through it.

17. The Dunn Lumber Expedition

“George,” Josh asked one day, as they ran into each other at the entrance to 515 Walnut Street, ” Where would you recommend I go to get some help with a building project? Should I go to Loews or Home Depot?”

George shook his head and clapped one hand on Josh’s shoulder.

“Don’t go to either,” he said, “You want to go to Dunn Lumber – their service reps know the most.”

“Ok,” said Josh, “where is it?”

“Oh – it’s up on Hwy 99 close to 168th. Say . . . do you want to go right now?” George looked at his watch, suddenly eager, “Verna says dinner will only be ready for 6:30.” Josh laughed at the excited tone of his voice.

“Let me check with Jacki – I know she really wants this done so I probably could.” Josh poked his head in the door and yelled,

“JACKI?”

“What dear?” she said, from the kitchen just inside the door, “I’m right here.”

“Oh, hi!” Josh gave her a big grin, “Is it ok if I go to Dunn Lumber with George to look into building you your desk space?”

“Yes please!” said Jacki, “I need that to get done!”

Two minutes later, Josh and George were driving north on 9th in George’s car.

“We’ll take Olympic View Drive – nicer that taking 196th and 99,” said George, “What kind of desk are you trying to build?”

“We have a weird nook space. We’re not sure what it was for, but Jacki wants me to put a counter and shelves in there so she can have a desk area. She can’t work in my office because she’s too distracted by the mess.”

“Oh yeah – we have that weird nook space too,” said George, “Verna put a table and large vase there.”

Olympic View Drive was stunning. October had started before anyone realized it was Fall, but now the colors were everywhere. The hot oranges, fierce reds and glowing yellow leaves were everywhere.

When they parked at Dunn Lumber, Josh suddenly got nervous.

“I don’t even know what I’m really looking for,” he said, “I’ve never done this kind of thing before.”

“They’ll help you figure it out,” George said, moving forward confidently.

“How can I help you today?” asked a service rep named Brett.

“I don’t know,” Josh said, “I want to build a counter top and shelves in nook.”

“Do you have the measurements?” Brett asked, “We’ll take a look at your wood options and we can sketch out some ideas on the graph paper we have at the desk.”

“Great!” said Josh. “Measurements, right, I should have thought of that. Hold on a sec and let me call my wife.” George turned to Brett while Josh called Jacki.

“How’s the day going?” he asked politely.

“Awesome,” said Brett. He laughed, “I helped the last guy in here for over two hours. It was epic.”

“Sounds like you love your job,” George smiled, “How did you get into this?”

“Oh – I started in construction and then I wrecked my knees.”

“The nook is 2 feet deep and 3 foot wide,” Josh said closing his phone, “That’s easy.”

Soon, there were several sheets of graph paper covering the desk as Josh tried to transfer his idea out of his head.

“Would this work?” he asked again, drawing on the next sheet, and after consideration of the studs, how to mount the counter, a comfortable reaching height to the first shelf if someone was sitting, they finally had a drawing and a list of all the items Josh would need, including a much longer list of power tools than he had expected.

“So I really need all of these power tools to finish the project?” he asked excitedly, “This is great! Now I can tell Jacki that I really do need these!!”

“Well, you could borrow a hand-sander and several other tools from me,” said George, looking over the list.

“Shhhh, don’t tell me that!” said Josh, “Do you think there is room in the shared garage for me to set up shop?”

“Probably,” said George, “We might have to do a little rearranging but I’m sure no one would mind.”♦ Josh could see him enthusiastically envisioning the project moving forward in the garage and laughed. It would be fun to spend more time with George. He was a funny guy.

“Maybe I could help you with some of the project?” George said next. He sighed, “I don’t get to do projects for our place anymore. We’ve done pretty much all there is to do, unless we ripped out the kitchen cabinets.” He frowned sadly, “Verna says we’re not going to do that.”

I’m an Aunt!!

I’m interrupting the usual story to announce that I’m an aunt for the first time! Kelsie had her baby and it’s a GIRL! All Croziers are flabbergasted, of course, as this breaks the pattern completely. It was wonderful to get to meet her at the hospital last night with the rest of the family. Her name is Isla June.

In other news, we’re in the middle of moving this week so no story until next week.

16. Music Appreciation and the Art of Rejection

“So do you play classical music in the gallery because you believe it’s a more sophisticated atmosphere for viewing art?” asked Brad, the suave lawyer who had been annoying Blythe ever since he had moved into Edmonds. He leaned over the counter to give Blythe a sexy look. A vision of Zoolander’s “Blue Magnum” flashed through her mind and made her laugh.

“What’s funny?” He asked. Blythe’s smile disappeared. The CD playing over the gallery speakers featured Debussy piano music. Right now it was playing a movement called “Reflets dans l’eau” – so soothing you could easily imagine the rippling reflections on a lake.

“I play classical music because I like it,” she said and shuffled some papers loudly, hoping he would clue in to the fact that she was busy prepping the next email newsletter to send out.

“So you actually enjoy classical music or do you feel like you have to like it?” He twirled a pen lazily through his fingers. Probably trying to show off his perfectly manicured hands, thought Blythe. She sighed.

“Yes, I actually enjoy classical music,” she said, “It’s very inspiring and allows me to get into my right brain easily when I’m painting. I can find classical music to fit any mood I’m in and there aren’t any words to intrude.”

Brad stopped leaning on the counter, stood up straight and clapped.

“Very admirable,” he said, “I can’t say I know anybody else who actually likes classical music. Most of us just pretend to appreciate it because we feel we have to.”

“Well then you’re really missing out,” said Blythe, “I just wish I could remember the titles and composers.”

“You need a music appreciation class!” said Brad, “I had to take one in high school. Worst class ever but we got a lot of jokes out of ‘Air on a G String’.” He paused, obviously waiting for Blythe to laugh. She raised her eyebrows. I’m sorry, she thought, I don’t actually think high school boy humour is funny. The CD had moved on to the next track, intensely fast-paced and building in tension.

Brad seemed to get the point.

“Well,” he said, “I’ve got to get rolling. You and me – dinner sometime soon? This Friday? How about 7:00 p.m.?”

He made it sound like it was a given that they would be going out. Blythe gulped for a second and then replied automatically,

“I don’t close the gallery until 8:00, sorry.”

“Well, 8:00 p.m. then?” He flashed another signature smile at her. Blythe squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry Brad, I am not at all interested in going out for dinner with you.” She gasped. Had that actually come out of her mouth? Had she really just said that to the handsome lawyer standing in front of her? She had! She wanted to jump for joy. She had done it! Brad suddenly didn’t look so suave or sexy anymore. His face was turning red.

“Excuse me?” he said, his voice starting to rise right along with the music.

“Brad,” she said quickly, “You heard me. I am sorry but I am not interested in dating you. Please leave now.” The second time it was easier to say, but he looked like he would choke.

“I can’t believe it,” he sputtered, “How could you not . . . ? Why would you not . . . ?”

Blythe shrugged and looked at him sympathetically.

“Sorry Brad, I’m looking for someone else.” The piano came down in a series of chords as if to put several sets of punctuation on the end of her sentence. Brad pulled himself back together and held up his hands in mock defeat.

“Alright,” he said, “I give up. I’m really sorry you’ll be missing out.” He turned around and walked out. Blythe collapsed back in her chair, exhausted from the effort of saying no.

“Are you ok?” asked Jacki, coming into the gallery with Josh. Josh paused to start looking at the paintings, while Jacki walked up to Blythe.

“Oh, hi,” said Blythe, “yeah, I’m great, actually!”

“You’re as white as a sheet!” said Jacki, “Josh and I are just out on a walk after dinner.”

“I’m fine, really I am,” Blythe said, “I feel like I just passed the exam for Rejection 101.”

“Oh really?” asked Jacki, leaning in over the counter like Brad had done, just a few minutes earlier, “That sounds juicy. Was it the guy we passed coming in?”

“Yes,” said Blythe, “I’m not interested in him but he’s been hanging around for weeks and randomly asking me out. At first I always managed to just say I was busy but I finally told him I wasn’t interested.” She paused.

“I still can’t believe I actually did it!” she said.

“Good for you,” said Jacki, “Did he take it ok?”

“Oh, he’ll be fine,” said Blythe scornfully, “by tomorrow, he’ll have moved on to making some other woman believe he’s God’s gift to women. He’ll end up pitying me for being so stupid as to pass up an opportunity like himself.”

Josh finally walked over to the counter as well.

“By the way, I love the Debussy,” he said, “I’m a huge fan of his work.”

15. Common sense and sore thumbs

Josh put on his shoes and flexed his fingers as he prepared to leave the house. It was the weekend of August 14-16th – an important weekend in the Edmonds yearly calendar, featuring the annual festival called “Taste of Edmonds.” Hundreds of vendors from restaurants all over the region participated, as well as some non-culinary companies.

Josh’s chiropractic clinic had a booth at the festival every year where they did free spinal evaluations and mini-massages. New to Edmonds and the clinic, Josh was preparing to leave for his first four hour shift helping at the booth.

“Well, here goes nothing,” he said to a sleepy Jacki, who shrugged sympathetically from her spot on the couch.

“I haven’t done any massage since the few courses I had to take when I was getting certified as an athletic trainer! I can’t believe they had to resort to using me.”

The clinic had five part-time massage therapists but only one had been available for the weekend, even though all of them had been working at the clinic several years and knew the event happened annually. Josh thought that was a bad sign.

He kissed Jacki on the way out the door and set out up the hill. It was a cool morning for August and he thought hopefully that it even looked like it could rain. By the time he got to Main street, he was grateful that he hadn’t driven over. Car lined every side street he passed and the event hadn’t even officially started yet.

“Hey Josh, glad you made it,” said Josh’s boss Dr. Melli when he found their booth. She smiled at him and handed him a rolled up banner.

“Can you put this up in the corner there?” She pointed. Josh frowned. No one would see the banner in the back corner of the booth. It was black and would be in shadow. Apparently the office manager, Julie, was thinking the same thing.

“No,” she said to Dr. Melli, “It definitely needs to go on the outside of the tent here!” Josh frowned again. No one would see it there either – it looked like the main foot traffic walked past the other side! He opened his mouth but shut it again when he saw the look on Dr. Melli’s face. He backed away to let the two women fight it out. Eventually the banner was hung in the darkest corner of the booth.

She’s the boss, Josh thought, no big deal. Twenty minutes later, he had been asked to move the massage chair to three different spots before it was in the right spot, then another mini-duel had been fought about how to display the brochures and how to organize the scheduling binder. Dr. Melli kept asking questions like, “Where are the pens? What about a stapler? Why didn’t anyone bring the a stapler? Why do we only have two clipboards? We always need at least five!”

“Jacki, nobody organized anything!” he moaned later, as he lay on the couch, icing his thumbs, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but they should have planned this out way ahead of time! The whole thing was a disaster.”

He closed his eyes. When he opened the again, Jacki had a smug grin on her face.

“Didn’t they have anyone who was in charge of the event?” Jacki asked.

“Apparently not,” Josh said, “Julie says all the necessary information lives only in Dr. Melli’s head. So planning the event only happens when Dr. Melli has time to think about, which unfortunately wasn’t very much.”

“But if they’ve been doing the event for years, why doesn’t someone else write everything down so they can reference a planning manual next year?”

Josh grinned at Jacki.

“But that would be too easy, Jacki.” He laughed, and shook his head mockingly, “Way too logical.”

She laughed too and didn’t say, “It’s just common sense,” the way she usually did.

“How did the massages go?” she asked, changing the subject, “Did you feel like you did okay?”

“Oh yeah,” said Josh, “when it’s only five minutes, it’s a cinch. And one person even told me that my five minute massage was better than the one-hour one they had two days ago,”

“Wow,” said Jacki, “You must be really good.” She sounded wistful but there was something in her tone that suddenly made Josh suspicious.

“So would I have to pay you $15 an hour,” she said, looking up at the ceiling, “to actually get a back massage once in awhile?”

Josh groaned.

“I should have seen that coming,” he rolled his eyes, “I give you back rubs.”

Jacki raised an eyebrow,

“Maybe once a quarter,” she said sternly. Then she smiled,

“Don’t worry, babe, I’ll let you off the hook for tonight.”

Josh lifted his now-frozen thumbs out of the ice packs and gave her two thumbs-ups.

“My thumbs thank you,” he said. Jacki rolled her eyes.

Vacation

Maybe summer wasn’t the best time to try to start a daily novel – obviously I’m not being too regular with this and now we’re gone for the weekend on Hat Island!!! I’ll try to have a new chapter up on Monday. promise. 🙂

14. The terrors of babysitting

George and Verna woke up at 7:00 on Friday morning to the news on their radio alarm clock. They looked at each other and sighed.

“It’s just the weekend,” Verna said, trying to sound brisk and happy. Instead, she sounded unsure of herself.

“Friday from 6:00 p.m. to Sunday at 6:00 p.m. 48 hours.” moaned George, “Let’s hope they go quickly.”

Any outsiders would never have guessed that there was nothing George and Verna dreaded more than babysitting their grandchildren. They did love their grandchildren and, like typical grandparents, carried multiple photos and bragged about major milestones and accomplishments, “Abby won her bean bag race on Field day” and “Little Joey lost his first tooth!”

But in the quiet confines of their own home, they admitted to each other, that their grandchildren were best enjoyed in small doses, say two hours. Even four hours was pushing it. At least three times a year, though, they got the unwanted phone call.

“Hey Mom and Dad,” their daughter would say, “Will and I are planning to go to the San Juan Islands for a weekend. Abby and Joey are really excited to come stay with you.”

Abby, nine, was bossy and dramatic, sure that she had superior knowledge on most topics. Really what could her grandparents know? They were old!  Joey, six, was whiny if you didn’t answer his questions. And he asked questions every other second. Why is Leroy three different colors? Why does he shed? What’s that? What’s a record player? What’s a record? What are we having for lunch? What else? We’re not having dessert?

Then the bawling would start. Joey cried about everything. Verna sighed. Sometimes, she wished it was still politically correct to say things like, “Boys don’t cry, dear.”

At breakfast, Leroy had a gut feeling something unpleasant was happening today. He wagged his tail nervously, hoping that his owners’ glum faces didn’t signal a trip to the vet. When Verna made up two cots in the office, Leroy relaxed. This wasn’t about the vet, there were visitors coming. He wagged his tail. Visitors meant attention!

But at 6:00 o’clock that evening, Leroy realized who the visitors were, as Abby and Joey rushed in and surrounded their grandmother in the kitchen, talking a mile a minute. Before Abby and Joey could attack t him and start rubbing his fur in all the wrong directions, he sneaked out of the living room and curled up under George and Verna’s bed. Henry, the cat was also there. For once, Leroy was only too happy to share the space with his enemy. Henry opened one eye and hissed. Leroy put his nose down between his paws and looked pleadingly at him. He also remembered not to wag his tail because he knew cats didn’t wave their tails to be friendly. It usually meant they were hunting something. The cat closed its eyes again.

Out in the living room, George realized they had forgotten to move their Chihuly glass from the coffee table to a safer place. He picked up the vase and several other pieces and also disappeared into the bedroom. He put the glass pieces in their closet, spotted Leroy’s tail under the bed, and smiled.

“That’s what I feel like doing too, Leroy,” he said. The tail thumped a few times and George went back to his shrieking grandkids.

“Grandpa! Grandpa! Guess what we brought?” Abby yelled in his ear as Joey screamed,

“No! I wanna tell! Let me tell!”

Abby held up a plastic bag with a small goldfish swimming in three inches of water.

“We brought you a goldfish!” Abby said triumphantly, holding the bag out of Joey’s reach. Joey started wailing.

George and Verna looked at each other. It was going to be a long weekend.

13. Richard meets an enemy

During the summer, Richard’s volleyball rec group played out on the grass field behind the Frances E. Anderson Center. While the volleyball rec night was pretty low-key and any 18 people could sign up to play every Thursday night, there was a core group of dedicated players that put on a decently competitive game. Richard liked that the high level of skill he encountered wasn’t matched by overly aggressive attitudes. The games were intense but friendly.

Richard kicked off his flip flops in the grass by the net. He said hello to the other regulars who were stretching and warming up and glanced around at the faces he didn’t recognize. There were three college guys that weren’t usually there. Richard sized them up. Nothing to be too worried about, he thought.

He was right. The three guys were there because they were bored. During a water break, he heard one of them say Blythe’s name.

“So you know, Blythe’s just gotten this pug,” said the tall one, whose name was Andrew,

“I stopped by her gallery yesterday. I think she really wants me.” His friend nodded politely. Richard blushed. How did this kid know Blythe? He barely looked old enough to be out of high school.

“I think she bought this dog because she’s lonely and it turns out the dog won’t obey her because his last owner was a male. Named the dog Cooper after his car. Crazy, huh?” Richard decided Andrew’s friend didn’t know where the conversation was leading either.

“So, I was thinking, obviously, if she wants to keep the dog under control, she’s going to need a man around the house,” Andrew laughed at his own brilliance, “I can’t wait to suggest it to her. I just have to find the right time. Most of the time she tries to pretend that she’s uninterested, you know – being really cold and uncommunicative. That’s how I can tell she really wants me. Women always do that when they really like someone.”

Richard frowned. Could that be true?

“True,” said the friend, although he didn’t look convinced either.

The game started again. Richard’s competitive flame had been fanned and he couldn’t help aiming a few more killer serves in Andrew’s direction. It was nice to see an enemy go down. Richard’s team won all 3 games they played.

“You’re on fire, tonight Richard!” said one of the regulars, slapping him on the back, “That block was amazing.”

Richard walked home, wishing that Blythe could have been there to judge between Andrew and his athletic skills. At least there, he knew he would win. Too bad he couldn’t be more certain of winning in categories like “Conversation skills” and “Romantic Ideas”. What if Blythe didn’t even care about athletic prowess?

No, I know she does, he thought, she said she played volleyball herself in high school. Anybody who has played sports, cares about athletic ability.

He turned into Beck’s Lane from 6th and walked up the short hill. At the top, he stopped. Even in the middle of condo-ville, the view was breath-taking. Straight-ahead, the mountains spread out in front of him, looking taller and closer in the red evening light. I’m lucky to live here, he thought.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” said a voice behind him. He turned his head and there was Blythe coming level with him, walking a very small pug.

“It is,” said Richard, as he fell into step with her, heart suddenly racing, “I envy you your view from your living room – you’re the only condo that can see the mountains.”

“I’m lucky,” said Blythe as they walked down the steep incline and reached the back of 515 Walnut Street, “although I think I did pay more than all of you for it!”

“When did you get a dog?” asked Richard. He stared hard at it. The pug looked like it was behaving.

“About a week ago,” sighed Blythe, “I’m having the hardest time getting it to obey me though!”

“Anything I can help with?” Richard asked. The question came out instinctively, in the same way he asked it of any client of his. But then he blushed. What on earth can I help with? he thought, I don’t have any ideas for dog-training.

“I wish you could,” said Blythe and gave him a smile, “I think he’ll get used to me afterwhile though. Meanwhile, it isn’t quite the blissful companionship I thought it would be.”

“What made you want one?” he asked, hearing Andrew’s ‘I think she’s lonely’ in his head.

“It was our dinner at George and Verna’s,” Blythe said, “Leroy was so entertaining and I liked how he lay down at George’s feet. You could tell they were friends.”

They reached Richard’s door.

“Have a good night,” she said as he unlocked it and she went past him up the stairs. Ask her out, thought Richard, fumbling with his keys, ask her out!

“Hey,” he said, before she reached her door, he paused and took a deep breath, “Blythe-“. She turned around as he paused again.

“Yeah?” she said. Her voice sounded nervous.

“You have a good night too,” he rattled off and closed his door before she could say anything else. Stupid, stupid, stupid, he thought and wanted to bang his forehead on the wall.