Fuzzy Logic

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Fuzzy Logic Page 11

by Susan C. Daffron


  “I’m not sure. I promised my mom I’d stay.” And ensure Mom didn’t make a break for it. Again.

  Her mother turned from Bruce to look at her. “It’s fine, Jan. I wish life were more certain, but I’m putting my faith in my higher power that all of this will work out. You and Michael can go. Enjoy the power of the sea and embrace the healing miracle of nature.”

  Michael gave Jan a questioning look. “I think it’s okay, then.”

  “I guess,” Jan said shrugging her shoulders.

  “Cool. I need to get Swoosie’s leash. Then we can go embrace some nature.”

  Michael attached Swoosie’s leash to a harness and waved back at Bruce and Angie, who were now deep in conversation. “We’re leaving now. Good luck!”

  Jan followed Michael and his dog out the door. After he shut the door behind them, she said, “I’m not sure about this. My mom was really worried about talking to him. I guess they had a big fight or something.”

  “Hey, they’re grown-ups, right? They can figure it out.”

  “I think your dad may be more of a grown-up than my mom.”

  Michael smiled and glanced over at her. “I won’t argue with that.”

  “You probably already know this, but Bruce is husband number seven. Well, I think it’s seven. Maybe it’s six. I keep forgetting.”

  “You? Forget? I thought your brain was chock full of facts like that.”

  Jan scowled. “Ha. Ha. You’re terribly funny.”

  Michael stopped as Swoosie started walking back and forth across a particularly special piece of grass. “Oops, looks like the poop dance is about to happen.”

  “The poop dance? Only you would have a name for this activity.”

  “It’s good to know when the poop dance is going to happen. You don’t want to be caught unaware. Swoosie has a particular way of stopping and circling. And then there’s this happy serene look she gets, so you know it’s not just another boring sniff fest. She means it.”

  “You spend a lot of time walking your dog, don’t you?”

  “I have to clean up after her, so it’s good to know when to be at the ready. And yes, here it is, the moment we’ve all been waiting for: poop tail! A Samoyed’s tail flips backwards when the dog is doing the deed.”

  Jan shook her head. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation. Shouldn’t we be talking about our parents? That’s more important.” Although by now, her mother had probably fled the scene.

  Michael yanked a plastic bag out of a pocket in his shorts and bent down to clean up. He looked over at Jan. “Well, this is important to Swoosie. It’s a big moment in her day.”

  “You’re making me glad I live in a place where I don’t have to get quite so up-close-and-personal with my dog’s excrement. I just let Rosa out and she does her thing.” Of course, that was also why Rosa was starting to resemble a hairy beach ball.

  “Don’t you ever take her for walks?”

  “Well, sometimes. There are acres upon acres of forest where we can walk. My feeling is that if the wildlife can go there, so can Rosa.”

  Michael dropped the bag into a garbage can. “Here no one likes it when dog owners turn a beach neighborhood or the beach itself into a giant litter box. I always imagine some little kid joyfully playing in the sand. He finds a fantastic new toy and runs up to the beach blanket, clutching his exciting brown discovery. He proudly shows it to his mom, but she screams and tells him to put it down. Mayhem ensues. They pack up their coolers and vow never to return to Litter Box Beach ever again. It’s all just nasty. Not to mention bad for tourism.”

  Jan studied his profile as they walked. “You have quite a vivid imagination. I thought dogs weren’t allowed on the beach.”

  “They’re allowed on a couple of them like Dog Beach, which isn’t too far from my place. And in some cases, people just ignore the ‘no dogs’ signs, particularly in the winter.”

  “I think I’ll watch my step the next time I go to the beach.” Jan looked down at the ground, surveying the general area just in case.

  Michael grinned. “Now I’ve freaked you out. It’s like the movie with the Baby Ruth in the pool...DOODIE!”

  She looked back at him. “That was Caddyshack with Chevy Chase and Bill Murray. It was directed by Harold Ramis and filmed in late 1979. The Doodie scene was actually based on a real event.”

  “I know you’re a librarian, but how do you remember all these things? I have trouble remembering where I left my sunglasses.”

  “I’m not sure,” Jan said. “It’s just the way my mind works. Steve used to say my brain was filled with UBI.”

  “UBI?”

  “Useless Bits of Information. He said it drove him nuts. That I was trying to card-catalog the world.”

  Michael narrowed his eyes. “That’s a little harsh, don’t you think? If you ever want a career in advertising, let me know. You’re like a one-woman research department.”

  “I’m afraid you have made the world of advertising sound unpleasant.” Jan shook her head. “No thanks. Your description of the stress and deadlines makes it seem like a horrible way to earn a living. I’ll stick with the library. At least it’s quiet. No temperamental actors or yelling bosses.”

  “I suppose that was not one of my best days.”

  “You certainly look a lot more relaxed today. I almost didn’t recognize you dressed like a surfer.”

  Michael surveyed her attire. “You may want to dress down a little while you’re here. Aren’t you hot? You look a little flushed. And those shoes have to be painful.”

  Jan was feeling a little overheated. Perhaps the suit and heels hadn’t been an ideal choice. “I thought I’d be sitting around in a cottage mediating my mother’s marriage, not walking through the old neighborhood with you.”

  “Let’s find a place to sit down and get something to drink. If you get heat stroke, your mother will kill me.”

  “Maybe. But these days she’d do it in a very heart-centered and loving way.”

  Michael laughed. “Hey, I don’t want any bad karma. Let’s stick to good vibrations. Gotta keep those lovin’ ones happening.”

  “Are you referencing the Beach Boys song?”

  “I suppose you know when it was released?”

  Jan smiled. “October of 1966, actually. It was composed by Brian Wilson and the lyrics are by Mike Love.”

  Jan waited on the outside patio with Swoosie while Michael got some drinks. The little cafe had a row of festive green umbrellas out front and Jan settled into her chair, relieved to have some shade. Opting for a more casual wardrobe would have some advantages. Maybe she should head to the mall this afternoon.

  Michael returned with two tall glasses of iced tea. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks. By the way, what did you do to your dog? She’s being really good, just lying here like a model canine citizen. I can’t believe this is the same animal that terrorized the wedding.”

  “It’s all those walks. Or runs, really. Most weekends when I don’t have to work, Swoosie and I jog from my place in Del Mar up here. It’s about six or eight miles. We do it in the morning before it gets hot. I like to check in on my dad and we usually have breakfast together. All that exercise is good for Swoosie and Dad loves her.”

  Jan looked down at Michael’s muscular legs. He was obviously in extremely good shape. “I’m guessing you don’t run in flip-flops.”

  “No, I’m not that much of a beach bum. I do have running shoes. But I take them off when I get there. Dad’s house has enough sand in it already. It’s getting so he could build castles in there.”

  Jan giggled. “I’m glad I’m not the only one who noticed that. The floor feels kind of gritty when you walk around.”

  “He’s got the money for a housekeeper.” Michael trailed his index finger on the glass, making swirly designs in the condensation. “He just doesn’t want to deal with it. And sometimes he complains that he doesn’t want someone going through his stuff. Most of his stuff is fr
om 1974, so I’m not sure who’d want it.”

  Michael looked oddly melancholy about this topic. Now she was curious. “So when did you find out that your dad was marrying my mom?” Jan jiggled the straw around in her glass, poking at the ice cubes. “The whole wedding thing came out of nowhere for me. But I don’t live nearby and my mother and I have a sort of...difficult...relationship.”

  Michael leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs at the ankles. “I met her at Dad’s house one Saturday a couple of months ago. I hadn’t seen her in years. Way back when, she was the hot neighbor mom. Then all of a sudden, I find the woman from my boyhood fantasies standing there in my father’s kitchen making pancakes. They looked really cozy. And frankly, when it comes to my dad, that’s just not something I want to think about. I walked in the door with Swoosie like I always do and there she was in a long shirt and nothing else. It kind of freaked me out, if you really want to know.”

  Jan smiled. “Look at the bright side. At least she was wearing clothes. You missed the nudist phase.”

  “Yikes.” Michael leaned forward in the chair and put his elbows on the table. “Thanks for that image. Now I’m gonna have nightmares. The thing I can’t figure out is how they pulled off such a huge wedding so fast. I’m no expert, but aren’t wedding places booked up years in advance?”

  “My mother has had lots of practice. One of her best friends, Skye, is a wedding planner. I think Mom has her on speed-dial. Skye might have figured Mom was due for another marriage and reserved a place just in case.”

  Michael smirked. “Now you’re just messing with me.”

  “Maybe a little,” Jan said with a half-smile. “But she does have a friend who is a wedding planner. Skye loves to plan and my mother loves weddings. She definitely loves weddings more than the actual being married part.”

  “It is a great excuse for a party, I’ll give her that. And you looked great in your flamenco outfit. Speaking of little-boy fantasies...that’s the stuff dreams are made of. Even when your mom was young, she didn’t compare to you in those ruffles.”

  Jan blushed and looked down at her iced tea. “Oh please. Spare me.”

  “After you left, a few people asked where the cute chick with the ruffles went.”

  “They were probably talking about Swoosie.”

  “I’ll grant you Swoosie is completely adorable in her ruffles,” Michael said as he patted the dog on the head, “but her ruffles weren’t snug in all the right places like yours were.”

  Jan looked into his face to see if he was serious. It appeared he was. She smiled. “Thank you. I think.” She looked across the street at the passersby and noticed that a tall blonde woman in a bikini top was making faces at them. Jan looked around her. Did something happen? Was her bra strap showing? Trying to discreetly check, it seemed all of her undergarments were where they should be.

  Michael frowned. “Is something wrong?”

  Jan leaned toward him across the table. “That woman is making faces at us. Do I have something in my teeth?”

  Michael looked around and smiled. “Do you want to pet her?”

  The woman waved and ran across the street, rushing to their table. “Oh yes! That is just the cutest dog I’ve ever seen. Look at how furry she is!”

  The woman crouched down and put both her hands into Swoosie’s deep fur coat. “She’s soooooo soft! What kind of dog is she? Or he?”

  “Her name is Swoosie,” Michael said. “She’s a Samoyed.”

  “Sam-oy-ed? I’ve never heard of that. What beautiful fur. How do you keep her clean?”

  Michael smiled. “Well, it does take some work. I have to brush her. But in general, dirt mostly just falls out of her coat. I call it magic fur.”

  Enjoying all the attention, Swoosie rolled over on her back for a tummy rub. Her tail wagged slowly along the ground.

  After giving Swoosie’s tummy the required rubbing, the woman stood up again. “Thank you so much! My name is Tammy, by the way.”

  “I’m Michael. And this is my sister Jan.”

  Jan nodded. “Step-sister actually.”

  Tammy pressed her hands together and squealed. “Wow, like the Brady Bunch! I used to watch that show all the time.”

  “I think everybody did,” Michael said.

  “Yes, that’s true,” Jan said. “Thanks to the power of syndication, I’m doomed to be compared to Jan Brady forever. The show has never been off the air since it was canceled in 1974.”

  Tammy’s shoulders drooped and she looked bewildered for a moment. “Well, thanks again.” She waved half-heartedly at Jan and Michael and then crouched down to cuddle Swoosie. “’Bye, my little oogie-woogie-snuggle-doggie.”

  After Tammy crossed the street, Michael looked at Jan. “I think you lost her with the word syndication.”

  “It does have a lot of syllables,” Jan said. “So does that happen a lot?”

  “What?”

  “Women running over to pet your dog like that?”

  “Yes. Everybody loves Swoosie. Well, except you.”

  “I’m assuming your dog doesn’t shred the clothing of most of the women you meet. She certainly must be a boon to your social life, though.”

  Michael gave her a mock leer. “How do you know I didn’t teach her that little disrobing trick? But yes, you’re right; she’s a chick magnet of the highest order. It’s even worse with little girls. Every little kid under the age of ten thinks she’s a stuffed animal and wants to pet her. Not that I’m trying to attract little girls or anything like that old guy in the book by Nabokov.”

  “Eww. Now, you’re just being creepy. Or making a reference to a song by the Police. It’s hard to tell with you.”

  Michael laughed. “Hey, brothers are supposed to creep out their sisters, right? I have to make up for lost time.”

  “Speaking of which, we should probably go back and see if our parents are still speaking to each other.” She’d lay odds her mother had disappeared by now.

  Michael pushed back his chair and Swoosie stood up and stretched. He ruffled the dog’s ears. “Okay. If we must.”

  “Sorry. No more adoring bikini-clad women for you today.”

  “We’ll see. The day is young.”

  Chapter 6

  The Great Sandini

  Michael and Jan returned to the house and found Angie and Bruce sitting on the sofa in silence. At least Angie was still there, anyway. Michael unclipped Swoosie’s leash and the dog ran over to the sofa, jumped up, and settled in between the couple. Bruce looked down at the dog and reached over to pet her back. “Hi Swoosie. Did you have a good walk?” Swoosie wagged her tail in response.

  “That is a truly beautiful animal,” Angie said as she reached over to stroke Swoosie’s ears. “Look at how the light makes her fur sparkle. And she is so soft. She obviously is a compassionate creature. What a soothing spirit.”

  Swoosie smiled and panted cheerfully, obviously enjoying the compliments. Jan looked at Michael. “Obviously, my mother hasn’t spent as much time with Swoosie as I have. She hasn’t seen the dark side.”

  “Never underestimate the power of the dark side,” Michael replied. “Strong Swoosie is in the ways of the Force.”

  Angie looked up. “What are you two talking about? You seem to have developed an interesting form of communication.”

  Jan sighed. “Oh Mom, come on. He’s referring to Star Wars. Yoda? Darth Vader?”

  Angie furrowed her brow. “It’s true. We are all trying to be in alignment with the stars.”

  “So does that mean you and Bruce have worked things out now?” Jan said. “Remember, you are married, after all. You made a commitment.”

  Angie folded her hands in her lap. “We have resolved some matters that have pained me for a while. Bruce has helped me come to terms with some issues from my past.”

  “So are you going to move in here? Or is Bruce moving to your place?” Jan said. “I’m here for a week, so I could help. I’m sure Michael would, too.”


  Michael looked over at Jan quickly. “I might be able to do that, depending on the timing. But I do have to work.”

  “I don’t feel completely aligned in this space,” Angie said. “I will need to bring Skye over for a cleansing.”

  Bruce shifted his position on the sofa. “You’re not going to mess with my stuff, are you?”

  “The house needs to be clean,” Angie said. “There is a feeling that pervades this space that I can’t live with. I don’t feel grounded here.”

  “There is a little too much ground here. Mostly all over the floor.” Jan volunteered. “Maybe we could sweep up some of the sand to start? I could even hire someone to help.” At least, cleaning was something constructive and real. All these vague answers from her mother were slowly driving her insane.

  “I don’t want a stranger messing with my stuff,” Bruce said. “They might steal something.”

  “Dad, we’ve talked about this,” Michael said. “No one wants your stuff. It’s old and most of it is covered with a layer of sand. Cleaning this place would be a good way to kick off your new life with Angie. Have you actually cleaned this house since Mom died?”

  Bruce shook his head slowly. “Not really. I do dishes and little things, but I haven’t ever done a real thorough cleaning. I was afraid I’d do it wrong and she wouldn’t approve.”

  Michael sat on the arm of the sofa and put his hand on his father’s shoulder. “You never told me that. All this time, I thought you were just a slob. It’s been long enough and you’ve remarried. I think you need to let go.”

  Jan turned to her mother. “If the house is thoroughly cleaned, will you be willing to move in?”

  “It must have a spiritual cleansing as well. I’d like to have Skye come over with her smudge sticks and herbs.”

  “Whatever works,” Jan said. “Is that okay with you, Bruce?”

  Bruce shrugged his shoulders. “I guess so.”

  Jan stood up. “Great! We have a plan. I’ll make arrangements to get a cleaning crew out here. Bruce, I’ll supervise and make sure no one takes anything or does anything with your stuff that you don’t approve of. Will that work?”

 

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