Michael asked Jan to meet him the next morning at a coffee shop that was far enough away from his house that he could give Swoosie a proper walk and tire her out. Jan arrived at the cheerful, bright yellow Victorian building and found Michael and Swoosie already sitting at one of the tables on the wraparound deck. As she walked by the door into the building, the scent of exotic spices tickled her nose.
“You both look relaxed. This is a beautiful building.”
Michael handed a piece of croissant to Swoosie and stood up. “It’s actually a restored train station. And the coffee is excellent.”
“It certainly smells good. Swoosie seems to think the croissant is tasty, too.”
Michael passed Swoosie’s leash to Jan. “Hang on to her while I’ll go get you some coffee.”
Jan sat down and looked down at the dog. “You’re going to behave yourself, right?” Swoosie wagged her tail and turned to watch as Michael disappeared through huge train station doors into the cafe area. Then she put her paws up on the table and snatched the rest of the croissant off the plate.
“Swoosie, NO!” Jan yelped as she jerked back on the leash. But it was too late; Swoosie was hurriedly snarfing down the remains of the pastry. What an amazing food thief. Looking around, Jan couldn’t see Michael anywhere. She should tell him to get himself a new croissant, but the coffee shop was extremely crowded, and it wasn’t worth risking losing this choice seating location on the deck. Maybe Michael would think about getting himself something else to eat, given his dog’s tendency to consume everything within reach. After all, this certainly wasn’t the first time the dog had snarfed something while he wasn’t looking.
Having finished her croissant, Swoosie sat up again and peered at the table. And then stared mournfully at Jan.
“Oh please. Spare me the puppy-dog eyes. You are not starving. That was probably 500 calories, you little swine.”
Swoosie perked up her ears, wagged her tail, and smiled in response.
Jan bent to stroke the dog’s soft pointy ears. “You are just absurdly cute, though. I’m sure that helps you get away with everything.”
She turned as a female voice behind her said, “Please, please can I pet your dog?” The tall, athletic woman was wearing skin-tight bike shorts and a rainbow top that matched the bike helmet she had cradled in her arm. “What kind of dog is it?”
“She’s not my dog, but yes, she’s very friendly. Swoosie is a Samoyed.” Swoosie wagged her tail more vigorously, looking forward to enjoying some more affection from a new human.
The woman crouched and put her helmet down on the wooden deck so she could cuddle Swoosie’s face with both hands. “Oooh, aren’t you just the cuuuutest little thing!”
Jan rolled her eyes melodramatically at Michael as he walked up with a tray of coffee and pastries. “Welcome back. I hope you got extra. Swoosie decided she needed a snack.”
Michael leaned over and put the plate as far from the edge of the table as possible. “Swoosie knows you’re new at dealing with her. Constant vigilance is required with this dog. She totally played you.”
Having finished loving up Swoosie, the woman stood up, took one look at Michael, and thrust out her hand. “Hello! I’m Veronica. Is this your dog? I love her!”
Michael smiled and shook Veronica’s hand. “Yes, she is. Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.”
Michael stood, waiting for Veronica to leave so he could sit down. He nodded in the direction of the cafe. “The line is getting longer. You might want to get over there before all those people crammed into that yellow microbus in the parking lot make it over here. Then the line will be out the door.”
Veronica looked at the line, then at Jan and said, “Oh. Okay. Yes, I’d better go. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime?”
Michael moved to sit down at the table, “Maybe.”
Jan reached for her coffee. “Good grief. Being around you and Swoosie is just a love fest. You’d think that woman had never seen a cute dog or a good-looking man before.”
Michel grinned. “You think I’m good-looking?”
“Way to fish for compliments. Men who know they are good-looking seem less attractive, by the way. I’m guessing that one of your ardent groupies may have mentioned that before.”
“Maybe once or twice.”
“Kat’s friend Maria says you look like the Marlboro man back when he was hot.”
Michael peered over his steaming coffee mug as he took a sip. “I don’t know who Kat or Maria are, but does that mean you were talking about me with your girlfriends?”
Jan felt the color rise on her cheeks. “Well, I don’t know if they are my girlfriends, exactly. Kat is taking care of my dog Rosa while I’m here. They invited me to a little party of sorts, after they found out about the whole thing with Steve at the library.”
“Oh yeah. That.” Michael leaned back in his chair, cupping his mug in both hands in front of him. “The thing I like about this place is that it’s right on the 101. You can watch every prototype Southern California person go by. For example, Veronica is one of the Spandex People. They are very serious bikers and they have to be aerodynamic, so their clothes show every possible nuance of their form, whether you want to see it or not.”
Jan inclined her head toward the cafe. “You seemed to appreciate Veronica’s assets.”
“Well, yes, but I don’t want to see Harry the Welder’s junk over there.” Michael shifted his gaze toward a burly man wearing a tank top and bicycle shorts who was walking up the steps into the cafe. “I mean that’s just way more than I need to know.”
Jan giggled and glanced toward the man at the next table. “Okay, what about that guy?”
Michael turned and looked quickly at the man. “Oh that’s easy. That’s your basic Biker Dude. The leather vest is a dead giveaway. I’ll bet you fifty bucks that the vest has the classic Harley logo on the back.”
Jan shook her head. “Not taking that bet. What about the guy over there? He looks pretty normal.”
Michael swiveled in his chair to take a look. “Hmm, that’s Mr. Pressed Jeans. Ultra yuppie. Probably drives an extremely expensive car. And he’s very proud of it. That big keychain with the wad of keys on the table probably has the logo on it. Maybe Porsche? Lamborghini? Ferrari?”
“Hard to say.”
He turned toward a woman at another nearby table who was reading a book. “And then you have this woman. She’s one of the Solo Book People. She wants to get out and be around other human beings, but she brings a book to ensure no one will actually talk to her. The book is like a death ray for introverts who want to be left alone.”
“Hey, now you’re talking about my people! I don’t know if I’m an introvert exactly, but people who read need to eat too, you know.” Jan picked off a piece of croissant and popped it in her mouth. “Your descriptions remind me of high school. Like The Breakfast Club, where you have the brain, the athlete, the princess, the basket case, and the criminal. This may not be a surprise, but I was a brain in high school. What were you? I’m guessing you were a jock, right?”
Michael looked thoughtful for a second. “Eventually, I guess. But if we’re classifying based on the movie, for a lot of high school I was more like the Judd Nelson character, although I don’t think I actually ever told anyone to eat my shorts.”
Jan smiled. “Ahh, so you were a bad boy? I’m trying to envision you in the grubby torn denim jacket.”
“More like a smart ass. As a brain, you may not realize this, but most teachers don’t appreciate that type of humor. My mom’s death messed me up for a while, and my dad and I weren’t getting along. I skipped a lot of classes, took up smoking and other undesirable habits, you might say. Then my junior year, a buddy convinced me that if I took up track I could meet girls. So I had to quit smoking or succumb to serious respiratory distress out on the field.”
“You cleaned up nicely in the end. Well, according to Veronica, anyway.”
“Wait! I forgot one more type of Sou
thern California person.” Michael sat up straight and looked around the cafe. “I don’t see them here today; maybe it’s too early. But we can’t forget about the Stroller People. They’re the parents who have the gigantic, $350 running strollers that they have trouble controlling, so they bump into everything. It’s like bumper cars, except with screaming toddlers.”
“You spend a lot of time here, don’t you?” Jan said.
“Hey, there’s outdoor seating and Swoosie needs her exercise.” Hearing her name, Swoosie wagged in agreement, but didn’t take her eyes off the pastry remnants that were still on the table.
Michael waved in the general direction of the coastline. “This is only the beginning. From the sound of it, you didn’t do much of anything fun when you lived here, so it’s time to go see the sights of San Diego. We can stop by my place, drop off Swoosie for a nap, and then go from there.”
“Where are we going?” Jan asked with a bit of trepidation.
“You’ll find out.”
Chapter 7
Fun in the Sun
After they dropped off Swoosie, Michael took Jan to a street fair. He regaled her with stories about her fellow tourists while she looked at crafts and knickknacks. They stood in front of a huge display of tie-dyed shirts, skirts, and tapestries. The colorful cloth flapped merrily in the ocean breeze, the rainbow flags celebrating peace, love, and herbal enjoyment.
Michael gave her a friendly nudge. “You need a sarong.”
“Because librarians so often wear sarongs?”
“No, because you’d look good in it. Maybe even better than the ruffles.”
Jan gave him a sidelong glance. “You’re just not going to let go of the ruffles, are you?”
“They were memorable. I think I’m starting to understand Bob’s thing for sexy librarians. Plus, this is San Diego. You should try to dress the part.”
Jan fondled the fabric of one of the tie-dyed sarongs between her fingers. “You mean Bob, the drunk guy at the wedding? Ugh. For the record, not everyone wants to dress like a Dead Head, you know.”
“Hey, the light’s all shining on me,” Michael said. “I’m just saying you don’t have to wear so many clothes.” He stroked the small section of her forearm that wasn’t covered with cloth. “Sunlight could touch your body and it wouldn’t be the end of the world.”
Attempting to ignore the involuntary increase in her heart rate when he touched her, Jan said evenly, “Thank you for that small homage to Jerry Garcia, but have you noticed that I have freckles? We fair-skinned people need to watch out for skin cancer. I hope you’re wearing sunscreen.”
“Yes, I am. I’m a responsible sun worshiper.” He raised his right hand. “Like a Boy Scout. Always prepared and all that.”
Jan turned away from the sarongs, toward him. “Why don’t I believe you were a Boy Scout?”
“Okay. I wasn’t. But I like their cookies.”
“That’s the Girl Scouts.”
Later, they went to the Indian restaurant as Michael had promised.
“This has been a great day,” Jan said as she ripped a piece of naan into small pieces. “You were right. I never saw much of San Diego when I was here. It’s different to experience it as an adult. And this curry is delicious. You were right about this place, too.”
“Tomorrow will be even better. Now I have a question for you.”
Jan’s eyes widened. Where was this going? “What kind of question? Should I be worried? I don’t have to dance in front of people again or something, do I?”
Michael leaned forward and the flickering candle flame reflected in his eyes. “No. Nothing bad. What is something you have always secretly wanted to do, but were too afraid to do?”
Jan put down her piece of naan and leaned back in the chair. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what you mean. You don’t want me to go bungee jumping or something do you? Because I really don’t like that kind of thing.”
“No. I’m serious.” Michael reached across the table and took her hand. “Is there something that you dreamed about when you were a little kid? What were your favorite things?”
“Books.”
“Okay, that’s not helpful.” He squeezed her hand gently. “What were the books about? When you were little, what did you read? What did you dream about?”
“Lots of things.” The warmth of his hand was disconcerting. Dreams? Mostly she dreamed about having a normal life with a normal mother. But that wasn’t particularly interesting. “Okay, I guess I did go through the typical horse-crazy-girl phase. I probably read Black Beauty ten times. And I loved Misty of Chincoteague. And of course all the Walter Farley books.”
Michael released her hand and took a drink of water. “You lost me on the last one. Who is Walter Farley?”
“He wrote The Black Stallion and a bunch of other horse books. There were dozens of them. The first book is called The Black Stallion, and in that one a little boy named Alec ends up stranded on a desert island with a huge, wild, beautiful black Arabian horse. After they are rescued, they end up racing. A lot of the other books involved horse racing too, like Man o’ War, which was based on a real horse. I liked that one a lot, too.”
“Hmm. Was there a movie made from the first book?”
Jan leaned forward in her chair and smiled. “Yes! It had Mickey Rooney in it.”
“Did you ever ride horses when you were a kid?” Michael asked. “Or did you just read about them?”
Jan shook her head. “No, we never had the money, and as you know, my mom and I moved around a lot. I’m not sure my mother even knew about my horse-crazy phase. I’ve seen horses from a distance and watched racing on TV. Horses are so beautiful, but I’ve never actually touched one.”
“Okay. Tomorrow we’ll do something about that.”
“What?”
Michael smiled. “You’re going riding.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
Jan waved her naan at him. “How about because I don’t know how to ride?”
“You have to start somewhere. The first step is to actually get on a horse. Wear long, comfortable pants like jeans. And no flip-flops or sandals, either. You need to wear closed-toed shoes.”
“So I guess heels are out.”
“In any of those books, did you ever see a picture of someone riding a horse in high heels?”
“No.”
“That’s your answer.”
After dinner, Jan drove Michael to his house. Although they’d exchanged the steamy kiss the day they were cleaning Bruce’s house, Michael had been a perfect gentleman all day, to the point that Jan was starting to wonder if he’d just been too tired to know what he was doing before.
The awkward end-of-the-night is-he-going-to-kiss-me question was looming large in her mind. She pulled up in front of the house. Was she ever going to see the inside of his place? Did she want to see the inside? Maybe she was just one of his many flirtations. She was leaving to go back to Alpine Grove in two days, anyway. It was stupid to even consider starting something with him. And he was her step-brother, after all. When you got right down to it, that was gross in a sordid daytime-drama kind of way.
Jan was startled from her swirling thoughts when Michael said, “You’re awfully quiet. Are you fretting about getting on a horse tomorrow? I promise it will be fine. People who own horses don’t want people getting hurt. It’s bad for publicity.”
“No. Sorry, I was thinking about something else. I’m purposely avoiding thinking about the fact that the average riding horse weighs around 1,200 pounds.”
Michael put his hand on her shoulder. “It’s good to do things that scare you sometimes.”
Jan looked at him and covered his hand with hers, enjoying the warmth of the contact again. “Is that supposed to be some type of inspirational quote?”
“No. Just my experience,” Michael said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze goodbye. “Okay. Swoosie and I will meet you tomorrow at eight in front of the coffee
shop. I’ll be caffeinated and she’ll be tired, so we’ll be ready to head south for your equine adventure.”
As he walked up the sidewalk toward the house, Jan could hear Swoosie yipping furiously inside. Should she have initiated the kiss this time? Was there some type of dating protocol? After so many years with Steve, she wasn’t sure. Plus, even with Steve, that wasn’t the type of thing she ever did. She thought she wasn’t supposed to. Didn’t everyone say nice girls didn’t do that kind of thing?
Initiating a kiss certainly counted as something that scared her. Turning the key in the ignition, she shook her head. Maybe her life would have been more interesting if she weren’t such a nice girl. Being the responsible grown-up all the time definitely had some down sides.
Clad in a t-shirt and some old jeans and tennis shoes she had dredged up at her mom’s house, Jan met Michael and Swoosie in front of the big yellow Victorian coffee house again. Michael loaded the dog into the back seat and got in the front. “Hi there! Are you ready to ride?”
Jan started the car. “I guess so. Where are we going?”
“First to my house to drop off Swoosie in her crate. With two runs in two days, she should be extra tired.” He peered around the headrest at the back of the car. Swoosie had curled up into a tight furry ball on the back seat. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she was quietly snoring. “Look at that. She’s already crashed. I wish she were always like this. The dog walker who comes in during the week when I’m at work doesn’t really wear her out.”
Jan glanced away from the road to look at him. “Vacation seems to agree with both you.”
“I talked to some folks from work. Next week is going to be rough. I’m not sure what is going on, but it sounds like the audit isn’t going well. I haven’t taken a vacation in years. Lately, there’s always been too much going on. So it’s great that you’re here to distract me. Keeping busy has helped me avoid thinking about all the work that’s piling up.”
Fuzzy Logic Page 13