Fuzzy Logic

by Susan C. Daffron

  Kat jumped up out of her chair and did a jig around the room. At last! She had written something. Words were on the screen. The article was started and she even knew what she was going to say next, because she had pages of notes about the software she was supposed to write about. It was only a little ironic that the opening was all about writer’s block. Oh well. Whatever worked. She sat back down in the chair and began typing furiously.

  A few hours later, she heard Joel stomping around upstairs with at least one dog. Probably more than one, since there wasn’t a crowd in her office. The article was almost done. It was time to celebrate the fact that she was actually going to meet this stupid deadline after all.

  Kat galloped up the stairs, and at the top landing spread her arms toward the room and announced, “I’m a writer!”

  Joel looked up from the bread he was slicing, put down the knife, and turned to face her. “So I’ve heard.”

  “No, I mean I actually wrote something!” She ran across the kitchen and jumped into his arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Looking momentarily startled, he grabbed her so she wouldn’t crash to the floor. Then he readjusted his hold on her body and bent his head to kiss her.

  Kat disentangled herself and stood on the floor again. “Wow. Thank you for your enthusiasm for my writing career.”

  “I’m all for supporting the arts. Does this mean you finished your article?”

  Kat grinned. “Yes. Well, almost. But I finally figured out how to start it. That was horrible. Worrying about writing is worse than actually writing. Will you read it tomorrow? I need to send it to the editor this week.”

  “Sure. It’s great to see you so happy.”

  Kat grabbed the slice of bread off the cutting board and took a bite. “I know. I’ve been grumpy.”

  “I didn’t say it.”

  “Freelance writing sounds so easy. But no one tells you about writer’s block. Now I need to figure out what to name this mythical boarding kennel. Are you up for brainstorming?”

  Having finished assembling his sandwich, Joel moved to the table. “As long as we can eat lunch at the same time.”

  Kat brought a notepad and her slice of bread to the table. “You start.”

  “Alpine Grove Dog Boarding.”

  Kat tapped the pen on her notepad. “That’s not exactly inspiring. But I’m writing it down anyway.”

  Joel put down his sandwich. “You’re not supposed to criticize during a brainstorming session. The whole point of brainstorming is to let your mind go and generate ideas until you come up with something good.”

  “Maria calls this place Chez Stinky.”

  Joel frowned. “I don’t think that’s a good option. And besides, that problem has been resolved. Well, except for Rosa’s last visit. But other than that, it’s been fine.”

  “Now who is being critical?”

  “I think boring is better than stinky. Let’s try free association. What’s the first thing you think of right now?”

  “Fred Flintstone!”

  “Really? Are you serious?” Joel wagged his index finger at her. “No more Saturday morning cartoons for you, young lady. Maybe we should try words related to dogs?”

  Kat shrugged. “All right. Dog, fur, paws, tails, hound, puppy, bark, wagging.”

  “That’s better. I’ll add words to those. Hair of the dog, flying fur, paws for thought, hound of the Baskervilles, puppy love, bark to the future, wagging train.”

  “Bark to the future?”

  “I think you’re being critical again.”

  “No, I’m not.” Kat crossed her arms across her chest. “The Hound of Music.”

  Joel walked around the table and bent down to kiss her neck. “Now you’re not even trying. I’m going downstairs.”

  Kat pushed the plate forward on the table with her arms and laid her head down on them. Figuring out a name for this place could take a while.

  Chapter 11

  Picket Fences

  After a few hours of road time, companionably chatting and singing along to Beatles tunes, Jan and Michael stopped at a diner to get some food and give Swoosie a break from the back seat. They sat outside at a sticky, round table that sported a bent plastic umbrella, which appeared to have barely survived several bouts of hurricane-force winds.

  Swoosie rested her chin on Michael’s thigh, hoping for a handout. He looked down at her sad, starving expression and gave her a little piece of bread. “That’s it. No more.” Swoosie lifted her head then pressed it down again on his leg to emphasize that she was still hungry.

  Jan nodded at Swoosie. “Your dog is a pig.”

  “It’s one of her defining characteristics.” He gave Swoosie another small piece of bread. “But it’s not all bad. If she didn’t like food so much, she’d be impossible to train.”

  “There is that. I’m sure having a dancing dog that also looks a little like a stuffed animal is a great way to meet women. Not that you need that, since they seem to flock to you anyway.”

  Michael stopped eating his sandwich and put it down. “Is something bothering you?”

  “Not really.” Jan leaned back in her chair and clasped her hands in her lap. “Maybe. I don’t know. I guess I was in a committed relationship for a long time and it feels strange to...well...not be. I thought I was getting married. I knew what my future would be like. Now I don’t know.” That was an understatement.

  “I will admit to the fact that pretty much every female of virtually any age finds Swoosie adorable. But it’s not like I’ve been sleeping with every woman who comes up and pets my dog, you know.”

  Jan shifted in her chair. “No, I don’t know, actually. We’ve spent a lot of time together recently and you’ve never mentioned anything about any past or present girlfriends, relationships, or anything. But you know all about Steve. And what my plans were. I mean, I don’t even know if you have ever been married before! Have you? Have you ever been in love? Did you go to your high school prom?” Picking a fight might not be the best way to find out these things. And yet here she was, doing it anyway.

  “You want to know if I went to the prom?” He narrowed his eyes. “Okay. Yes. Her name was Charlene and we went out for about two weeks afterward. Happy?”

  Jan shook her head. “I can see you don’t want to talk about this. It probably falls into the category of a relationship conversation, and you have indicated you don’t appreciate that type of discussion.” Now he was definitely irritated. She may as well keep going, so she could stop thinking about it.

  He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not sure what you want me to say. Do you want a list of every woman I’ve ever slept with? A number? An accounting of my whereabouts whenever I’m not in bed with you?”

  Jan sighed. What did she want? “No. It’s not like that. I guess I was trying to find out if I’ll see you again after the next few days. We spent another weekend together and it was wonderful, at least for me. But I still don’t know where I stand with you. Maybe you think that’s stupid or I’m trying to push you into something you don’t want. But I’ve realized I need to know. One way or the other.” Preferably before her heart shattered into 10,000 tiny little pieces.

  Michael leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. “Why can’t you just enjoy the experience? I enjoy being with you and we’ve had some good times. What’s so wrong with that? It’s fun being around you and I like talking to you.” He grinned suggestively. “And doing a lot of other things with you, too.”

  A tear escaped from her eye, and Jan brushed it away hurriedly, hoping Michael didn’t notice. “Maybe you won’t understand. But after the whole thing with Steve, I don’t want to be hurt like that again. I know he had changed. And intellectually, I know it’s a good thing we broke up. But when we first met, and for years, I loved him. Maybe I was just in love with the memories. Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want to be hurt like that again. It was awful.”

  “No one can guarantee
anything like that,” Michael said. “People get hurt. People get sick. People die. No one can predict the future. I certainly can’t. I do know that my job is incredibly demanding. I work long hours. And with the exception of the last week or so, I love it. That’s not going to change. So to answer your question, no, I’ve never been married. Or had any type of long-term thing like you did with Steve. If you are after the whole white-picket-fence deal, you may be disappointed.”

  Jan sat up straighter in her chair and shook her head slightly to get the hair out of her face. White picket fences? Steve had said almost the exact same thing. “That’s helpful. Very helpful.” She yanked her hair back into a ponytail, pulled an elastic out of her pocket, and wrapped it around her hair. “We should get going.” She pointed at Swoosie. “And I think your dog just gnawed some old gum off the bottom of the chair seat there.”

  Michael stood up and pulled Swoosie after him. “Let’s go, Swoosie. I really can’t take you anywhere, can I?”

  The rest of the drive was quiet. Michael put on some music, but most of the road-trip enthusiasm had been quelled. Jan was by turns annoyed with herself for killing the fun mood of the trip and relieved that she finally had said some of the things she’d been thinking about for too long.

  The only problem was that in the process she’d managed to make it even less clear if she’d ever see Michael again. How angry was he? Did they just break up? If so, from what? And where was she sleeping tonight? His place? That seemed unlikely, now that he hadn’t spoken to her for what seemed like forever. Maybe Mom hadn’t ditched her apartment yet and she could stay there, assuming it still had any furniture. Bunking with Bruce and her mom at his house would be beyond awkward. The thought of seeing sexual healing crystals everywhere made her cringe.

  Jan’s mind swirled with unanswered questions as she leaned her head on the window and stared blankly out at the passing farmland. It was going to be a long few days.

  Michael pulled up in front of his house. Even after all the silence, Jan couldn’t think of anything to say. She certainly had no idea what he was thinking. As she moved to open the car door, he grabbed her arm. “Do you want to stay here?” he asked.

  Before her brain initiated any rational thought, Jan said, “Yes.” Had he heard anything she’d said? This was such a mistake. What was wrong with her?

  Michael tugged her toward him, the gearshift digging into her leg. He kissed her more tentatively than usual. “I’m glad. I would like to you stay.”

  Enjoying the familiar flutter of excitement and the sensation of his lips against hers, Jan smiled, then frowned. What was she doing? Did she have no control over her hormones at all? She moved toward the door again. “Maybe we should go inside.”

  They unloaded the car and brought Swoosie and their luggage into the house. Jan stood in the living room and watched as Swoosie raced around the house, her claws skittering across the hardwood floors.

  Michael came up behind Jan and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest. He kissed the side of her neck and gently removed the elastic from her ponytail, so her hair cascaded around her face. “You might want to put that away.”

  Jan took the elastic, shoved it in her pocket, and turned to face him. She had every intention of telling him to stop. That she should sleep on the sofa. It would be better that way. But then he reached out and ran his fingers through her hair at the nape of her neck. His hands moved downward, pulling her body toward him. Jan opened her mouth to explain, but then his mouth was on hers and it was a lost cause.

  The next morning, she rolled over in bed and reached out her arm for Michael. The house was quiet and she could tell he wasn’t in it anywhere. When had he left? Sitting up, she looked around the room. Nothing had been moved, but the house seemed empty without Michael’s presence. It was odd to be here by herself. She got up out of bed and walked out to the living room. Swoosie stood up in her crate and yipped with glee.

  Jan crouched down and peered inside. “He left you with me? That can’t be a good idea. How about you stay in there while I take a shower?” Swoosie sat, looking dejected, apparently realizing that she wasn’t going to be released yet.

  After her shower, Jan puttered around the kitchen, looking for something to eat. Swoosie was rattling around in her crate, making it clear that she did not appreciate missing out on any food preparation that might be happening.

  Jan strode out to the living room. “Oh, all right,” she said as she opened the gate. Swoosie shot out and ran toward the back door. “I guess you have to go outside?” She opened the back door and the dog ran out to the yard. Jan leaned in the doorway waiting for the dog to finish her morning routine. Swoosie raced back into the house and sat next to the stove.

  “Sorry, little dog. Nothing for you. I refuse to be responsible for any more of your gastrointestinal indiscretions.” She turned and looked around the kitchen. Maybe Michael had left a note. Presumably he had gone to work. Did she have that number? Did she even know the name of the agency where he worked? She was sleeping with the man. Shouldn’t she know this by now?

  Walking through the living room, she observed the bare table tops with no notes anywhere. Outside the front window, there was no car, either. How could Michael have just left her here without saying anything? He must trust her not to steal everything he owned. Or had he forgotten she was even there in the rush to go back to work? Maybe that was the protocol with one-night stands.

  She peeked in a few drawers. Did he have business cards lying around somewhere? Given his dog’s enjoyment of paper products, it shouldn’t be surprising that the place was so barren. It was like a model home. The only decorations were the photographs on the wall. Apparently, Swoosie didn’t have a taste for art.

  Jan slammed a drawer on an end table shut. If he actually cared about her, he wouldn’t have just left her here all alone without a word. It made her want to cry or throw something fragile at the wall. But there weren’t any available knickknacks, so the house was safe for the time being.

  At a loss for what to do next, she sat on the sofa and Swoosie hopped up next to her. “Hi Swoosie. You really are quite a social little thing, aren’t you?” She wrapped her arm around the dog’s furry body and Swoosie leaned over and licked her cheek. Jan ruffled the dog’s fuzzy coat. In response, Swoosie flopped over on her back for a tummy rub.

  As she rubbed the dog’s soft fur, Jan considered her options. She could call her mother and ask for a lift. But she really didn’t want to answer the inevitable questions, particularly given her mother’s new interest in discussing sex and crystals. Ugh.

  Or she could stay here and wait for Michael to call. Except that he undoubtedly would be wrapped up with whatever was going on at work, and she’d just sit here all day getting even more upset about the fact that he’d obviously completely forgotten about her.

  Maybe she could take Swoosie for a walk and see if there were any places to stay nearby. This was a tourist area, after all, and Michael’s house wasn’t far from the beach. She definitely should not stay here again tonight. The idea of leaving made her feel sort of sick, since she knew she’d miss him again. But it was the right choice. Getting any more involved with Michael was senseless. He had made it clear he wasn’t interested in anything beyond a fling, which was bad for her long-term emotional health, since she wanted far more.

  “Okay Swoosie, I have a plan. You need to help me go find a motel.” Swoosie flipped back over like a turtle righting itself and bounded off the couch, ready to go.

  She leashed up the dog, but she didn’t have any keys to lock the door. After searching around the kitchen, she discovered a set of keys to the back door wedged in the back of a drawer. “Okay, let’s go!” Swoosie launched out ahead of her.

  Jan walked down toward the beach with Swoosie and then stopped. She had to make a decision. North or south? No clue. She turned right to head north, since it seemed like Swoosie wanted to go that way. As the sun beat down on her back, warming her tense
muscles, she finally started to relax. Walking through the residential neighborhoods made her think of Michael’s habit of people-watching. What would he say about those surfers loaded down with gear, headed for the beach? Or the older couple strolling slowly hand-in-hand?

  A woman wearing a floppy red hat, carrying a big beach umbrella and dragging a little girl behind her, ran toward Jan and Swoosie. “Ooh, what a cute dog!” The little girl said, “Doggie! Pet doggie!” and reached out her free hand to point and wave at Swoosie.

  Swoosie sat and looked ready to be accosted by the small girl, who kept pointing at her and shrieking, “Doggie! Doggie!”

  The woman bent down to pet Swoosie. “Can Anna pet her?”

  Jan nodded. “Swoosie is very friendly.”

  Dropping the umbrella, the woman directed the little girl’s hand toward Swoosie’s head to pet her. “She’s so pretty! How do you keep that fur so white? Don’t you have to brush her all the time?”

  Jan shook her head. “Ah, well, she’s not really my dog. But as I understand it, she stays pretty clean.”

  The woman stood up and collected her umbrella again. “Thank you so much. What a sweet dog!”

  “You’re welcome.” Jan paused and then added, “Do you know of any motels around here? I need a place to stay.”

  The woman nodded. “We’re staying at the inn right up the street. Turn on 15th Street. You can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you.”

  Jan kept walking and found the motel. The large white building looked nice enough and the neon Vacancy sign was flashing. “Well Swoosie, I guess this is where we turn around. I’ll drop you back at home and then say goodbye.” Swoosie turned and wagged at the sound of her name and then started marching forward toward home.

  At the house, Jan put Swoosie in her crate, collected her things, and threw her bag over her shoulder. She put the keys back in the drawer, locked the back door behind her, and walked around through the gate to the front yard. A young, thin, leggy woman with long, straight brown hair wearing a bright yellow t-shirt was walking up the sidewalk toward the house with a portly golden retriever in tow.