Six Hot Single Dads

The room was suddenly warm and much smaller.

“Oh, God. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to hear that.” He spiked his hair again. “It’s just that my family has this thing about introducing me to women. I was trying to figure a way out of it this time, but I shouldn’t have mentioned you.”

“A blind date?” Kristi laughed. She couldn’t help herself. “Trust me, you do not have to apologize. My family does the same thing to me all the time.”

“Really? So…you’re not seeing anyone?”

“No, I’m not.” Although she was surprised he asked. “A fact that makes my mother a little crazy. Yesterday she called about my aunt’s Fourth of July barbecue. She was going to invite this guy who used to live across the street when I was in high school.”

“How did you handle it?”

Should she tell him? If she did, it might make him less uncomfortable. “I did the same thing you just did.”

His eyes narrowed.

“I told her I’d met someone, and your name kind of slipped out.”

There was no humor in his laugh. “So your family thinks you’re taking me to your aunt’s barbecue.”

“I guess so. I’ll have to come up with some excuse why you won’t be there but—”

“And my mother will expect you to be at the cocktail party she’s throwing for my sister’s birthday.”

She didn’t respond, but then he didn’t really seem to be talking to her anyway.

“This could work. You come to my sister’s birthday party. I go to your aunt’s barbecue.” He sounded calm and rational, as though he was laying out the steps in a lab experiment. “What do you think?”

She was pretty sure he didn’t want to know what she was thinking. “I don’t know. I used to lie to my mother about some of the guys I was dating, but I’ve never lied about someone I’m not dating.”

He shrugged. “So you’d rather spend an afternoon at a family picnic with the guy who lived across the street?”

God, no. “I’d rather go by myself.”

“That’s how I feel about my sister’s birthday party. But unless I come up with an alternate plan, I’m going to be paired with my mother’s bridge partner’s daughter.”

“So I heard.” And she would suffer the same fate if she didn’t make plans of her own.

“What is it with families?”

“They mean well,” she said. “At least mine does. My mom was a single parent, too, and it was hard for her. I think she always wished she’d find someone but never did, and now she’s shifted that focus onto me.”

“My family wants to find a new mother for Molly and Martha.” His voice was thick with resentment. “They seem to think I’m in over my head.”

“Oh, I’m sure they don’t. Your girls are great. They’re happy. Anyone can see they’re well cared for.”

“Thank you.” The tension around his eyes softened.

“You’re welcome.”

“So, how about it? You come to my sister’s birthday party, I’ll go to your family barbecue, and we’ll call it even.”

Say no. “Sure,” she said instead.

He offered his hand to seal the deal. “It’s a date.”

She shook it. “A fake date.”

“Make that two fake dates.” He smiled and her insides turned to Jell-O.

Chapter Four

Kristi tugged her hand out of Nate’s and hiked a thumb over one shoulder. “I’ll just go and start sorting.”

“Sure, good idea. And I’ll run out to the market but, ah, first I have to make a call.”

Kristi made her escape, collected her things from the foyer and headed down the hallway to the children’s bedroom.

He was going to call his mother. There’d be no turning back after that. What were they thinking? What was she thinking? Her mother and Aunt Wanda would be happy, but how was she going to explain this to Jenna? Only time would tell if this fake-date idea was brilliant or ill-conceived.

The giggling emanating from Molly and Martha’s room was like music to Kristi’s ears. Such sweet kids. Each girl was wearing dress-up clothes over their pajamas. Molly’s black spaghetti-strap cocktail dress bunched on the floor around her. Martha had a messenger bag slung crosswise over her shoulder and a floppy-brimmed hat all but covered her eyes. Scattered around them were toys and clothes and the largest collection of stuffed animals Kristi had ever seen.

After agreeing to the fake dates, she had completely forgotten that she’d gone into the kitchen to ask Nate about the toys. For now she and the girls would sort them and make decisions later. She looked around for a place to set up the bins and ended up having to clear a space near the door.

“How would you girls like to play a little game?”

“I’m going to a party,” Molly said. She twirled, got one foot tangled in the hem of the black dress and collapsed onto a pile of what appeared to be even more dress-up clothes.

Martha giggled. “I’m going on a safari to look for dinosaurs.”

“You both look very cute,” Kristi said. “Do you like playing dress-up?”

“Yup!” Molly straightened out her dress and bounced to her feet.

“Aunt Britt gived us these clothes,” Martha said.

Kristi separated the three bins, set them side by side and took another look around the room. “I need helpers who are good at sorting things.”

Martha took off the hat and tossed it in the air. “I can do that. Daddy got us a card game that’s all about sorting.” The hat landed on one of the beds.

“That sounds like fun.” An image of Nate and his daughters playing a card game had Kristi thinking how the world could use more dads like him.

“What are we going to sort?” Molly asked, attempting another twirl, this time successful.

“Let’s start with all the clothes on the floor. Do you think you can put your everyday clothes into a red bin and dress-up clothes into the blue one?”

“Yup.” Martha pulled the messenger bag over her head and tossed it in the blue bin. “See?”

“Good job.”

“I can sort, too.” Molly slithered out of the black dress and added it to the blue bin.

“What’s going in the yellow bin?” Martha asked.

“Well, let’s see…” Kristi pretended to give the question some thought. “I guess some of the stuffed animals could go in there for now. What do you think?”

Molly scooped two teddy bears and a toy killer whale off her bed and dumped them into the yellow bin. Martha followed with a frog, a rabbit and another teddy bear.

“Our grandmas gave us these,” Molly said.

“Except for Winnie the Pooh and Curious George. Aunt Britt gived them to us on our birthday.”

Kristi recalled the party streamers that Nate must’ve taken down last night. “Did you have a cake with candles to blow out?”

Both girls shook their heads.

“We had cupcakes!” Martha said.

“Daddy bought them at the store.”

“I yike cupcakes better than cake.”

Their excitement made Kristi smile. “Me, too.”

“Is that why you have them on your purse?”

“It is.” She liked that they had noticed her bag. She had found the fabric on sale and had sewn the bag herself. As for birthdays, she made a mental note to suggest to Nate that he ask his family to consider clutter-free gifts, like admission to the Seattle Aquarium or the Children’s Museum. It hadn’t been easy, but even Kristi’s mom had gradually been retrained to give movie passes and iTunes gift cards instead of items Jenna didn’t need.

Kristi picked up a purple T-shirt and a pair of jeans. “Who do these belong to?” she asked.

“Me!” Martha reached for them.

“Why are they on the floor?” Kristi asked.

The child shrugged. “There’s no room in my dresser.”

“Are you sure?” Kristi opened a drawer in one of the matching dressers. Sure enough, it was crammed full.

“Those clothes don’t fit us,” Molly said.

It took Kristi three tries to get the drawer closed again. No wonder the kids didn’t use it. “All right, then. You can put your clothes in the bins for now.” Later she would talk to Nate and figure out what to do with the things the girls had outgrown.

Would Nate be open to getting rid of the dressers and building some cubbies for storing the girls’ clothes? A couple of months ago Sam had built a modular system for clients who had then taken them to their new home.

“Can you girls keep sorting while I take a look at your dad’s office across the hall?”

“Yup.”

“We can.”

“Good. Maybe there’ll even be a prize for the winner.” She’d learned long ago that bribery was never a parent’s best tactic, but in this case she wasn’t the mom. She was just a desperate decorator who wanted all this stuff picked up in the least amount of time.

“What do we win?”

“Well…it just so happens that I brought cupcakes with me. You can each have one at lunchtime, as long as it’s okay with your dad.”

“Goodie!”

“We yike cupcakes!”

Kristi laughed. “It’s a deal, then. I’ll come back in a while and see how you’re doing.”

With the twins engaged in a sorting game, she moved across the hall to the bedroom Nate used as an office. She paused in the doorway, thought of him working here, grading his students’ papers, researching the projects she’d read about last night while letting herself indulge in a little daydream about what it would be like to be with a guy like him. Smart, hot, sexy. And now she was about to find out. Not with him with him, but spending time with him. A flash of panic caused a flutter in her chest. Fake dating a man she was already attracted to could get complicated.

“Only if you let it.” Which she wouldn’t. She didn’t dare. Besides, she could always change her mind, back out. She knew what that would mean, though. Her high school memory of fending off Bernie Halverson’s unwelcome advances flickered through her mind. She wasn’t risking a repeat of that. And Nate didn’t want a relationship any more than she did, which made this a perfect arrangement. The opposite of complicated.

His office was another story. At one time it must have been a boy’s bedroom because two of the walls were papered with sports motifs, the other two were painted bright blue, and the ceiling fixture was a basketball pendant, and a decidedly hideous one at that. How could he work in here?

His large oak desk wasn’t old enough to be an antique, but it had that vibe about it. It had been shoved into one corner, and the surface was covered with neat stacks of paper and books, with a clear space in the middle that was about the right size to accommodate the laptop she’d seen on the kitchen peninsula when she arrived a while ago. The floor-to-ceiling shelves that spanned one wall were every bit as crammed as the desk, but like the desk, the books and papers were arranged in neat rows and stacks.

She quickly perused the books on one shelf. Botanical research, plant physiology, forest ecosystems. Molecular phylogenetics, whatever that was. Nate McTavish was one really smart guy, and she couldn’t even understand the titles of the books he read. It was a good thing their fake dates would be restricted to family events with plenty of other people around to keep the conversation moving. If they went on an actual date, just the two of them, they would never find anything to talk about.

Here in his office she saw the same kind of organization she’d noticed in the greenhouse yesterday. He had a ton of stuff but she was willing to bet he had a system, that he knew exactly where to look if he needed something. If she had to describe her idea of what a scientist’s brain looked like, this would be it. Lots and lots of neat compartments overflowing with information but at the same time never quite full.

She knew better than to try to organize this room, although it would be nice if Nate would agree to reduce some of the sheer volume of it, maybe store the things he didn’t need in boxes. Until the house was sold, she would like to create a better sense of space here. Would Nate be as eager to tackle his office as the two little girls chattering in their room across the hall? Maybe he liked cupcakes, too. That made her smile.

She would also swing the desk around and away from the wall to give it the importance it deserved, and so he didn’t sit with his back to the door. She wouldn’t tell him its present position was bad feng shui—he’d probably think that was totally unscientific—but when she was finished in here, she knew he’d find it a more productive place to work.

She pulled her notebook out of her bag. At the top of a clean page she jotted “Nate’s Office” and started a list. She was still making notes when her BlackBerry buzzed a few minutes later. The Ready Set Sold office number appeared on the screen. Their morning conference call. Claire was right on time, as always. This would give her and Sam a chance to discuss her ideas for Nate’s place. As for other developments with this client, well, she might hold off talking about those.

* * *

AFTER NATE WAS sure that Kristi was down the hall and out of earshot, he dialed his mother’s number before he lost his nerve. While it rang, he let himself out through the patio doors and walked to his greenhouse, where there was no chance of being overheard. His mother would be full of questions and in case he needed to get creative, he’d rather Kristi not have a chance to eavesdrop.

“Hi, Mom,” he said when she answered. “Sorry I had to cut you off.”

“No problem. Are the girls okay?”

“Oh, yeah. They were just…ah…being a little too quiet so I thought I’d better check on them.”

“Of course. So, about Friday night. Your father and I are throwing a little cocktail party to celebrate Britt’s thirtieth. I wanted to give you enough notice so you can find a sitter for the girls. And of course now we’re hoping your friend can join us.”

He drew a deep breath and took the plunge. “I just talked to her and she’s free. So yes, we’ll be there.”

“Wonderful. You said her name is Kristi? We can’t wait to meet her. I’m glad we talked before I invited Evelyn’s daughter.”

So was he. “So, about the party. Do I…we…do we need to bring a gift?” He hated shopping for anything, groceries included, but he could always grab some flowers on his way there.

“It would be a brave man who showed up empty-handed at Britt’s birthday party.”

Flowers it is.

“We’re also having a family brunch on Sunday and of course you’ll bring the girls for that. Kristi, too.”

The fake date tally rose to three. And he would have to take another gift, and it couldn’t be flowers. “We’ll be there.”

Would Kristi agree to go? He hoped so. He had no more interest in meeting Evelyn’s daughter than he’d had any of the other daughters, sisters and second cousins twice removed of his mother’s friends. In the past six months she and his sister had introduced him to a string of women deemed to be suitable wife-and-mother material. Apparently they discussed his sorry existence with everyone they knew. He shuddered to think how those conversations played out, but he could well imagine they’d read like an ad on an online dating site.

Desperate widower seeks equally desperate single woman. Must love kids and dogs.

Not anymore. He and Kristi had an arrangement that was both mutually beneficial and blissfully uncomplicated.

“I should go, Mom. I’ll see you on Friday.”

“Tell Kristi we’re looking forward to meeting her.”

“She’s looking forward to meeting you and Dad, too,” he added because he knew that’s what she wanted to hear.

“See you on Friday. And Nate, we’re so glad you’re seeing someone. All any of us want is for you to be happy.”

Leaving him alone would make him happy. Taking Kristi to his sister’s birthday party would feel a lot like being under a microscope, but it couldn’t be as bad as any of the blind dates he had agreed to. Like the one he’d met for coffee and an awkward conversation after work last month. Or the woman he and the girls had met at the park one Saturday afternoon when the babysitter backed out at the last moment. That woman had made a valiant effort to find his daughters engaging, and failed dismally.

Back in the kitchen, he dropped the phone into its cradle and scrawled the time and dates of his sister’s two birthday parties on the magnetic calendar on the fridge door. Before he left for the market he should do a little tidying up in the kitchen. He stowed the girls’ breakfast dishes and his coffee mug in the dishwasher and wiped down the counter. He closed his laptop and lifted it up, uncovering the pageant information Alice had dropped off. Kristi’s arrival and his mother’s phone call had pushed all this nonsense out of his mind. He set his computer down, picked up the envelope and removed the contents. Fanning through the pages, he saw there were application forms, which Alice had conveniently completed, waivers that required his signature, a bio for each girl, and pages of information about the venue and answers to frequently asked questions. Alice had clipped a note to the sheets describing the contestants’ talent, pointing out that if the girls were taking ballet or piano lessons, they could also enter this part of the pageant. The head shots were at the bottom of the stack.

Nate set the application package on the counter and stared at the photographs. Molly and Martha stared back. Instead of their usual pigtails, which were the only way he knew to manage their flyaway blond curls, they each had a poufy updo with flower barrettes that matched clothes he’d never seen before. He took a closer look. Was that makeup? Had Alice actually put makeup on his kids, got them dolled up and taken them to a photographer? How did he not know about this? He remembered them saying they’d had pictures taken, but he assumed Alice and Fred had done them. Dammit, what was this woman thinking? This crossed a line.

He stuffed everything back in the envelope, fighting the urge to toss it in the fireplace with a match and a can of kerosene. That would be the easy way to resolve this. What he needed to do, what he should have done long ago, was sit down with Alice and Fred and remind them who called the shots here. He did. He was Molly and Martha’s father, he made the decisions and they needed to back off. Way the hell off.

He tucked the laptop and the envelope under his arm and strode through the house. For now he would put this stuff away and deal with his in-laws when he cooled off a little and wouldn’t say anything he’d regret. Then he would find Kristi and break the news that two fakes had turned into three, an idea that was sounding better by the minute.

* * *

“GOOD MORNING, CLAIRE.” Kristi settled into Nate’s creaky old desk chair with her BlackBerry in her hand and her notebook on her lap.

“Hi, Kristi. Sam’s on the line, too.”

“Hey, Sam. How’s it going?”

“Good. I’m finishing up at the Baxter house this morning.”

“That’s the place that needed the faux wood paneling stripped out of the living room?”

“That’s the one. And I’m happy to say the drywall underneath was in good shape, except for the nail holes. It’s been patched and primed, and I’m painting it this morning.”

“Big job.” Claire, who claimed she didn’t know one end of a hammer from the other, was always impressed by Sam’s work.

“The paneling was a lot easier to take down than wallpaper,” Sam said.

Kristi took that as an opportunity to shift the conversation to Nate’s place. “I was just thinking about you and wallpaper. I need some stripped from one of the bedrooms here in the McTavish house.”

Sam groaned.

“Just two walls.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it. I promise.”

“You’re sure you can’t make it work?”

“Not a chance, and when you see it, I think you’ll agree.” The juxtaposition of the sports motifs with Nate’s old desk and scholarly-looking books was laughable. “It was a boy’s bedroom at one time, but the current owner uses it as an office.”

“Speaking of the owner…” Claire said.

Here we go. “What about him?”

“He’s very photogenic,” Sam said.

Kristi doodled in the margin of her notebook. “He is, isn’t he?”

Sam, usually so serious, was laughing. “You’ve photographed a lot of homes, but I’ve never seen you take pictures of the owners. Last night you sent three of this guy.”

“And we thank you for it.” Even Claire thought it was funny.

“I sent photographs of the house—he just happened to be in them.” That wasn’t exactly true, not even a little bit, especially considering how much time she’d spent looking at them.

Should she tell them about the latest development? She had more or less decided not to, but if she didn’t tell someone, she was going to explode.

“He seems nice,” she said, keeping her voice low. “He invited me to a party on Friday night.”

Several long seconds ticked by before Sam or Claire said anything, and then they were both talking at once.

“That was fast.”

“You already have a date with him?”

“How did that happen?”

“Are you sure this is a good idea, hon?”

No, she wasn’t sure of anything, including her spur-of-the-moment decision to tell Sam and Claire. “It’s not a date,” she said. “Not a real one.”

“If it’s not a ‘real’ date, what kind of date is it?” Sam asked.

“It’s sort of a fake date.” Except it had sounded okay when she’d said it in her head. Out loud it sounded ridiculous. She could hardly blame them for laughing. “It’s really just one of those crazy coincidences. You know what my mother’s like. She wanted to set me up with a date for my aunt’s Fourth of July barbecue, and Nate’s family tried to arrange a date for him to take to his sister’s birthday party. So we’re going together. We’re not interested in dating dating, so this is a perfect arrangement. Neither of us has to suffer another blind date, and our families back off with their matchmaking.”

“So you’re going on two fake dates, and both will be spent with your families?”

“Our families are the reason we’re doing this. If we went out, just the two of us, then it would be a real date. That’s not going to happen.”

“Isn’t this going to get complicated?” The ever-practical Claire never took risks.

To Kristi, being at her aunt’s barbecue with Bernie Halverson was complicated. Especially if he tried to kiss her. Just the idea of it made Kristi shudder. Nate wasn’t likely to kiss a woman he wasn’t dating, and she probably wouldn’t mind if he did.

“What are you going to tell Jenna?”

She’d been wondering the same thing. She still had to set an example for her daughter, after all. “I’ll downplay the whole thing, make sure she understands we’re just friends.”

“I hope you have fun,” Claire said. “You deserve it. I’m sorry if I didn’t sound supportive at first, but you caught me by surprise.”

“And we don’t want to see you get hurt,” Sam said. “I’m sure it’s nice to meet another single parent, though. You both already have a lot in common.”

“Not really. For one thing he’s smart, and I mean really smart.”

“And hot,” Sam said.

Claire laughed. “Hot and smart. Two more things he has in common with our Kristi.”

“I wish. He’s not just average, everyday smart. He’s university-professor smart. He studies all kinds of scientific things about plants and hybrids. You should see the books he reads. I don’t even know what some of the titles mean. And then there are Greek gods, Roman gods. He’s a walking encyclopedia.”

“What do Greek and Roman gods have to do with hybridized plants?” Claire asked.

“Nothing. We were talking about our dogs’ names.”

“S-o-o-o…” Sam drew out the word for effect. “Let’s get this straight. He’s single, he’s smart, he’s hot, he obviously must love dogs, but all you want is a fake date.”

“I said yes to the date because there are no strings attached. You know me well enough to realize there’s no way I’ll take a chance on another deadbeat.”

Kristi heard the groans and knew rolling eyes accompanied them.

Claire spoke first. “Sweetie, you said it yourself. He’s smart. And last time I checked, university professor is not exactly a deadbeat occupation.”

“And he’s hot,” Sam said.

“You know what I mean.”

“We do,” Claire said. “You’re a wonderful mom, an amazing woman—”

“Who deserves to have a hot guy in her life,” Sam said.

“Enough! The two of you sound like my mother.” Except that her mother had yet to come up with anyone who qualified as hot. “I should get back to work. I’ll see you at our next meeting. Nine o’clock, right?”

“That’s right,” Claire said. “At the usual place.”

“It’s in my calendar. I’ll see you both then.” Kristi tucked her BlackBerry into her bag and tried to refocus on the lists she’d been working on before taking the call. What was the point? She closed the book and shoved it in her bag. She needed to check on Molly and Martha anyway. It was her job to keep an eye on them till their father was back from the market.

* * *

NATE PARKED HIS SUV in the driveway, got out and carried two bags of groceries through the breezeway and the side door that led to the mudroom and kitchen. A couple of hours ago he’d congratulated himself on having his personal life firmly back in his control, but all the way to the market and back he’d pondered the newsflash that, according to Kristi, he was a deadbeat.

Seriously? He’d wanted to let her know that his mother was throwing two parties this weekend instead of just one. He didn’t want to talk about it in front of the girls, so he’d planned to invite her to join him in the kitchen.

Molly and Martha’s chatter had drifted past the door, which was slightly ajar. Luckily they hadn’t seen him. He had heard Kristi’s voice, too, but she hadn’t been in the girls’ room. She was in his office across the hall, sitting there in his chair with her back to the door and her phone to her ear.

She said something about no strings attached, and then she’d said, “You know me well enough to realize there’s no way I’ll take a chance on another deadbeat.”

She had paused, listening to what the other person had to say. He had hightailed it back to the kitchen, not wanting to hear any more.

Kristi had agreed to go out with him because there were no strings attached. Fair enough. They were both on the same page. But did she really think he was a deadbeat? Had he completely misinterpreted all the signs?

As he put the groceries away he debated what to do. He supposed he should let Kristi and the girls know he was back, but he was in no hurry to face her. Instead he poured himself a cup of coffee and stared out the kitchen window. He still had to break the news that there were two parties this weekend instead of one, and by now his mother would have told Britt he was bringing a date. Hell, she’d probably sent out a press release.

Maybe you’re looking at this from the wrong perspective, he told himself. Kristi had agreed to pose as his date at his sister’s birthday party if he would reciprocate and attend her aunt’s barbecue. No strings attached. That’s what she’d said; that’s what they both wanted. If going together to these functions meant no blind dates, no unexpected setups with strangers, did it really matter what she thought of him? Not one bit, he decided. She wasn’t perfect, either. Not that he’d seen any major flaws yet, but she was bound to have at least one.

“Daddy, come see our room.”

He swung around, expecting to see Molly. Instead he got an eyeful of Kristi, holding Martha’s hand on one side and Molly’s on the other. They were all smiling at him.

He mustered a smile in return and set his coffee cup on the counter. “Let’s take a look.”

He joined them, avoiding eye contact with Kristi. Both girls seemed content to hold her hands, so he was left to follow them down the hall. They stopped outside the bedroom door, Molly and Martha grinning impishly. He humored them by being the first to go inside, prepared to feign surprise, and being thoroughly taken aback when he saw what they had accomplished.

“Wow. Great job, girls.” And he meant it. Except for the furniture and Kristi’s big, brightly colored plastic bins, the floor that had been obscured by his daughters’ belongings was now clear.

“We had a race,” Martha said, her eyes like miniature saucers, as though even she couldn’t quite believe what they’d done.

“We put dress-up clothes in the blue boxes and our clothes in the red boxes,” Molly said.

“And stuffies in the yellow boxes,” Martha tried unsuccessfully to push the overflow of stuffed animals beneath the rim. “Just like Kristi told us.”

“Who won the race?” he asked.

“We both did. Kristi said.”

He finally allowed himself to make eye contact with the woman who had accomplished more in half an hour, by simply turning work into a game, than he could have managed in a whole week of cajoling. “Thank you.”

Her smile, so genuine, made it hard to believe she was the same woman who had called him a deadbeat earlier that morning.

“You’re welcome. They’re good workers. I might have to hire them as my assistants.” She tweaked their pigtails, and they both giggled. “And now they each get a cupcake at lunchtime, as long as that’s okay with you. I have some out in my van.”

“Sure. I got everything I need to make hot dogs, too.” And since she had offered dessert, it would be rude not to include her. “You’re welcome to join us.”

“Yay! Hot dogs!”

“Yay! Cupcakes!”

“We found our coloring books.” Molly pointed to their little table. “I’m going to color.”

“Me, too.” Martha settled onto one of the chairs.

“I’d like to talk to your dad about his office,” Kristi said.

The girls, already intent on choosing crayons, didn’t respond.

She slipped out of the room and he followed her across the hall.

“That’s pretty amazing,” he said. “What you got them to do in there.”

“I think they had fun.” She consulted several lists on a page in her notebook. “I have some suggestions to help you streamline the things in their room, but first I’d like to go over my ideas for your office.”

He would like to go over her idea that he was a deadbeat, but bringing it up now didn’t feel right, and he wasn’t ready to hear what she had to say anyway. Instead he listened as she outlined her plan, and then indicated the bundle of flattened boxes that he could assemble and use to sort and store papers. She showed him the paint color she had in mind, and he agreed it would be an improvement over the blue. He had never liked it anyway. And he was fine to get rid of the wallpaper.