Fall 2014: Story 2.1

I decided that I liked the characters from my previous story, so I decided to throw them into a larger narrative that I've been thinking about for around a year. (This has nothing to do with the current public fear of Ebola.) I also liked the idea of forcing Jill and Vincent to see each other again. Anyway, this draft is really rough because I was up until 4:00 AM writing it. Enjoy!

Patient Zero

Just two more clients today and then I can take a bubble bath. I rap hard on the door at 126 Valglen St. Before I can finish three knocks, there is the clatter of paws on tiles and the loud barks that mean that the German Shepherd, Pepper, is bounding to see who's at the door. He stops just short of slamming face first into the frosted glass like he does every week, but that is the last bit of normal that I get all day. Instead of the usual territorial bellows Pepper usually uses to hide his big teddy bear personality from intruders and mail carriers, the sounds coming from the other side of the door are desperate. 97Lbs of dog scratches at the door and whines.

“Hello Pepper!” I said. “What's up, boy?”

I waited a few moments and rang the doorbell. There was no answer.

I dig in my jacket pocket and pull out my phone. Scrolling through the contacts, I stop at Beth's name and dial. It rings and goes to voicemail. Just for good measure, I try the door but it's locked.

Pepper curls up against the door. Something isn't right.

I look at the phone in my hand, back at Pepper, and back at the phone. Pepper lets out another long whine. I can't believe what I'm about to do. I scroll though my contacts out of the B's and into the V's.

I dial. It rings twice.

“Hello?”

“Vincent?” I wince. The universe owes me that bubble bath now. “It's Jill.”

“Oh, hi.”

“Sorry. I'm over at Beth's for Pepper's session. She's not answering the door or her phone and her dog is really upset about something. Is everything okay?”

“I haven't talked to her in a few days.”

“Okay. Well something feels very wrong here. Beth's never stood me up and I've never seen Pepper act like this. Is there anything you think I should do?”

“Wait there. I'll be right over.”

Great. “Uh huh. Thanks.”

Twenty minutes later, Vincent's beige Honda pulls up and parks behind my electric blue Toyota. He gets out and walks up to where I'm waiting by the front door. He reaches into the pocket of his khakis and pulls out a key ring.

“Shit,” he says, “It's not on this one.”

I cross my arms. “You're kidding me.” My next appointment is in under an hour now.

“There's the dog door in the back.”

“Yeah, okay.” It would be a squeeze, but Pepper fits well enough. I'm not that much bigger than Pepper anyway I guess.

Vincent opens the gate to his sister's back yard and we walk to the patio. Pepper hears our approach and bursts out of the dog door. He runs up and nearly tackles me to the ground. I bend my knees to brace and Pepper leans on them, shaking.

“Whoa,” Vincent mumbles.

“Come on, Pepper,” I start towards the dog door. “Take us to mommy.”

Pepper goes in first and I squeeze in after, thankful that I'm wearing yoga pants for training rather than a dress. Once I pull my feet inside, I stand up and unlock the door for Vincent. The alarm bleeps in warning as soon as he opens it, but Vincent turns it off.

“Beth?” I call out.

There isn't an answer, but Pepper runs partway up the stairs and barks.

“Upstairs then,” Vincent says. “I can understand dogs that much.”

As we follow Pepper, I notice that his big water dish by the base of the stairs is almost empty. It had to have been two days since someone last filled it.

Pepper leads us into a dark bedroom and jumps onto the bed. The curtains are drawn and the bed is piled with blankets. I turn on the light as Vincent walks over to the bed.

“Beth?” He almost whispers.

Beth doesn't answer. She is pale and drenched in sweat, but shivering. Her hair is disheveled and her lips are cracked. Pepper licks her cheek and whines.

“Jill, she's burning up. I think we should call an ambulance.”

“I'm on it.” I walk out of the room to let Vincent tend to his sister and dial.

“911, what's your emergency?”

“I'm need an ambulance at 126 Valglen St. Beth- the home owner- is really feverish and won't wake up.”

“I'll send a unit out. Who is calling?”

“Jill Saunders. I'm Beth's dog trainer.”

“Alright, Ms. Saunders. A team will be there in about ten minutes. Do you need me to stay on the line with you?”

“No. Thanks so much.”

“Anytime.”

I hang up and go back in the room. “The ambulance will be here in like ten minutes.”

“Great.”

“What would you like me to do?”

“Uh,” Vincent frowns. “I dunno. I guess I'll ride with her. Can you take Pepper?”

“Yeah. I guess I can do that.”

“Actually,” he pauses. There's a weird look on his face. “Maybe it'll be easier if you get the dog out of here before the paramedics arrive.” Easier for who?

“Good point.” I turn around and head back downstairs. I go to the kitchen and fill a gallon ziplock with kibble before retrieving Pepper's leash from its hook by the front door. I check the time on the microwave- I have about seven minutes.

Pepper stares at the leash in my hand when I get back upstairs, but he stays put on the bed. I walk to the side of the bed opposite Beth and hold the leash out to Pepper. He whines.

“It's okay, boy. C'mon. Want a treat?” the dog inches closer and I slip the walking collar over his head. “Good boy, Pepper! Now let's go for a walk.” I lead him down the stairs and let him into my car before stowing the bag of kibble in the trunk.

The ambulance pulls up as I'm about to get into the car. “They're upstairs,” I say and let the paramedics into the house. I go back to my car and get in the back seat to soothe Pepper. The paramedics bring Beth out on a stretcher a few minutes later and Vincent follows them into the back of the ambulance. Pepper barks as they drive off and disappear around the corner, lights flashing and siren blaring. “Shhhh,” I whisper, scratching his ears and half hugging him. Poor guy. I wonder when he's had anything to eat today.

When Pepper stops barking and lies down, I climb over the console into the driver's seat and head home. I'm supposed to be at my next client's house in half an hour. I pull over in a gas station and retrieve my phone.

“Hi Jill,” Alice answers. “What's up?”

“I'm sorry to change plans so suddenly, but I just had to have one of my other clients taken to the hospital and I was the only one who could take her dog.”

“Oh my god. What happened? Did you get hurt?”

“What? Oh no, it wasn't the dog. She was just sick.”

“Oh.”

“Well anyway, I've got her stressed German Shepherd with me and I can't leave him alone like this so I think I've gotta reschedule. Is there another time this week you'd like me to come see Buster or should I just come next week?”

“Hmmmm,” Alice pauses. “This week looks pretty packed. I think next week will work.”

“Awesome.” Alice is the best. “How's Buster doing?”

“Great. Great. He only got busted on the kitchen table twice this week.”

“Well that's progress,” I laugh. “Good job, you two!”

“Thanks. I'll see you next week then.”

We hang up and I reach back to scratch Pepper's ear again before. “Who's a good boy? Pepper's a good sweetie boy. Let's go to Auntie Jill's house.” I pull back out onto the street and head home.

I let Pepper sniff around the inside of my house on the leash before letting him loose. I open the hallway closet and grab the dog dishes I'd stowed on the top shelf 3 months ago. I fill one with water and scoop three cups of kibble into the other. Pepper stares at me and licks his lips. I look him in the face. “Sit.” He complies and I put the food down for him. He practically inhales it.

My phone starts playing the theme music from Pirates of the Caribbean and I smile. “Hello?”

“Hi there,” Ryan says. “Are we still on for tonight?”

I look at Pepper. “Well, yes and no.”

“She's a mysterious one, this Jill.”

“I'd love to see you, but I can't go out.”

“Oh really?” I can just hear his grin over the phone.

“Not like that,” I laugh. “It's just that I took a client's dog home with me 'cause she had to go to the hospital.”

“Is everyone okay?”

“Honestly, I don't know. She looked really sick and her dog was kinda freaking out.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“I don't think I can leave the dog alone.”

“Of course not. Shall I bring takeout?”

“You're the best.”

“About 7:30 work?”

“Mmm, you're perfect.”

Ryan laughs. “Now go take a bath.”

“Aye aye, sir.” We hang up. Pepper follows me upstairs and I close the bedroom door behind us. I point at the bed and the dog jumps onto it while I go fill the tub.

I climb out of the now lukewarm and nearly suds free bath at around 6:00 and pull on my favorite jeans and a tank top with lace along the hems. The built-in support isn't much, but after the day I've had and the bath that soaked most of it away, I was not about to put on a bra. And it's not like Ryan will mind.

Pepper is curled up sleeping on my bed. I lie down next to him and stroke his fur before falling asleep myself. We don't wake up until the doorbell rings. I use my fingers to comb out my mild bedhead and trot downstairs to open the door.

Ryan grins and holds up a brown paper bag. I smell curry. Pepper strains against his collar, but I hold him steady. “Who's this?” Ryan asks.

“This is Pepper.”

“Hello Mr. Pepper.” Ryan holds a hand out palm up for sniffing and follows us into the house. It's the first time I've seen him meet a new dog and he aced it like a champ. A champ with Indian food.

“Let's get that onto some proper plates. I'm starving.”

“Yes ma'am.”

I start reaching for my casual plastic plates, but grab ceramic instead to prevent the plastic from becoming permanently curry flavored. I pull two sets of stainless steel chopsticks out of the silverware drawer and bring them to the table. Ryan has already gotten the wine glasses. I pull a bottle of Riesling out of the fridge while he gets a couple of napkins and sets the table.

I pour the wine. “So how was your shift?”

“Oh, it was fine.” He starts serving up the curry. “Uneventful. Nobody's gonna come back to the restaurant tomorrow just to give me their number.”

“My word,” I tease. “Who would do such a thing?”

“Well there was this one woman.” His blue eyes sparkle; I could go for a swim in them. “She had silver hair down to the chair and the straightest teeth I've ever seen. I could tell 'cause they sat right next to her plate the whole meal.”

I nearly choke on my wine.

“How's the curry?”

“Spicy.”

“Too much?”

“Don't think you're gonna eat it all that easy.”

“Oh, the sting of accusation, how it burns.”

“Wouldn't it sting?” I smirk.

Ryan glowers dramatically. “Eat your dinner.”

I meet his eyes, brows raised. “I will.”

“Good. So shall we watch another movie from your fantastic collection after this?”

“Sure. Which one?”

“Not a clue. Surprise me?”

“Okay. But just remember you asked for it.”

We finish dinner and clean up. The plates and chopsticks go into the dishwasher, the leftovers go into the fridge, and more wine goes into the glasses. I take Pepper outside to do his business and then peruse my shelf of DVDs. I don't want anything with rampant explosions to stress out the dog, but I don't want a cheesy romcom either. It's only been a month. The Truth About Cats and Dogs can wait. I pull The Illusionist off the shelf and put it into the player.

Ryan sits on one end of the couch and I sit slightly diagonal to lean on him. He drapes an arm over my shoulder and Pepper stretches himself across the rest of the couch with his massive head in my lap. I scratch Pepper behind the ears and Ryan starts massaging my shoulders as the movie starts.

After half an hour, my phone rings. It's just out of reach on the coffee table. I pick myself up a little and lean forward to grab the phone. It's Vincent. “Just a sec.” I grab the remote and pause the movie before answering the phone. “Hello?” I go back to leaning on Ryan's chest.

“Jill?” He sounds like shit.

“What's going on? Is Beth okay?”

“She's getting worse. That's all I know. They won't even let me see her. They say it's some kine of bacterial infection, but they don't even know what kind. The lab is supposed to analyze a culture or something by next week, but...”

“Whoa, Vincent,” I say. Ryan strokes my hair reassuringly. “Slow down. Do they even have any ideas?”

“I don't know. They won't be straight with me. Wait- they're calling me. I gotta go.” The call disconnects.

“That doesn't sound good,” Ryan says.

“It really doesn't.” I sigh and pat Pepper's head.

“I'm sorry.” Ryan moves to drape his arm around my shoulder.

I guide his hand back to my hair. “Don't stop.” I turn the movie back on.

Ryan keeps stroking my hair and leans down to kiss my forehead. I hear his heart speed up for a couple beats and then slow back down. I let my eyes drift shut and let the rise and fall of Ryan's chest, his heartbeat, and his hands in my hair upstage Edward Norton. I've seen this movie before. Spoiler alert: the girl's not dead. She's actually waiting for Edward Norton at a little farmhouse in the country and he takes a train to meet her there well after her supposed death. It's really a great film.

I must have drifted off at some point because next thing I know, the credits are rolling and Ryan says, “That was a really good movie.”

“That's why I picked it. I save the bad ones for special occasions.”

The doorbell rings. I look at the clock. It's around 10:00. “Are we expecting anyone?”

“Not that I know of.” I haul myself off the couch and go to answer the door.

It's Vincent. His face is blotched red and he looks utterly disheveled. “She's gone.”

“What?”

“I didn't know what else to do. I just talked to her last week. And now she's...”

I'd just spoken to Beth three days ago. Ryan puts a hand on my shoulder. “Why don't you come in?”

“Okay.” Vincent sniffs and follows us back to the living room. Pepper bounds up to Vincent and sniffs him. He looks around for Beth and whines.

I turn off the TV.

“They said they did all they could, but they couldn't even tell me what it was.”

“I'm so sorry, Vincent.” I say.

“Would you like some curry?” Ryan asks.

“No thanks. Do you have water?” I get up and get him a glass. Pepper lies down between my chair and Vincent with a sigh. “God, what do I do with the dog? I certainly can't take him.”

“Don't worry about Pepper,” I say. “He can stay with me.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course.” It's not how I was planning to get a new dog, but sometimes the universe takes plans into its own hands.

“I don't even know who to tell. She's the only family I had left.”

“I'm sorry. I had no idea.” I need to give my sister a call tomorrow.

Vincent grabs a napkin out of the dispenser and blows his nose. Turning to Ryan, he says, “I'm not sure we met. I'm Vincent.”

“Ryan.”

“I'm sorry if I'm interrupting something or anything.”

“Not at all.”

“I am, aren't I?”

“No, no,” I say.

Vincent grips his makeshift tissue and jumps up. “Oh god. Oh god. I gotta go.” He bolts for the door. Ryan and I hurry after him. Vincent is halfway to his car by the time we get to the front door.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” I call after him.

He gets into his car without answering.

“Vincent?”

He drives away without another word.

“Are you okay?” Ryan asks.

Beth's dead. Fuck. I turn around and bury my face in Ryan's shoulder. His arms fold around me and now the tears come. “Can you stay with Pepper and me tonight?” I ask into his shirt.

“Of course.”

Fall 2014: Story 1.1

Dichotomy

I dreamed that the world was ending, and it was beautiful. It wasn't the Sun burning the planet to a crisp like scientists like to say. The temperature was actually quite pleasant, even though the Sun had led the way into a black hole.

Half of the sky was the kind of dark that could only exist when something ceaselessly hungry is sucking up the light. The rest seemed to brighten in protest. It was mostly filled by the moon and Saturn, which were both drawn so close to the Earth that they would have probably crashed into one another if all weren't being drawn in another direction. About half of Saturn was already slipping into the dark. An aurora tinted all of it- the last gift the dying sun had to give.

The gravity was a bit off. I stayed on the ground just fine, but snow crystals drifted upward at the slightest breeze. All of the lights made the snow glitter in the air...

I check the clock: 6:45. Fifteen minutes until Vincent picks me up. I wander to the closet and grab two pairs of flats. Standing in front of the mirror, I hold each pair next to my knit floral print dress. The black ones definitely look better, but they rub at the back of my heels and the skin would be raw within an hour. But then again, the brown ones are starting to show wear. I frown at the mirror. Style or comfort? I roll my eyes and pull on the brown shoes.

I open up my purse to make sure nothing's missing. Wallet. Keys. Phone. Lipstick case- with the wrong color inside. I swap the red out for the light sandy shade I'd put on. Mints. Bobby pins. Aspirin. Everything's in place and I still have ten minutes.

I go downstairs and turn on the TV. After flipping through a commercial for Alpo dog chow, a rerun of The Bachelor, some news program, and an ad for Viagra, I settle on a fight scene in Pirates of the Caribbean. I've seen it before and I don't particularly fancy Johnny Depp with that much eye liner, but the one-liners and the swords clashing to the time of John Williams is a perfectly adequate way to pass the time spent waiting for something to happen.

At precisely 7:00, there is a ring at the bell. I can see the shape of a figure through the frosted glass. I guess that would be Vincent. I shoulder my purse and open the door. The man on my front step is of medium height and average build with brown eyes and brown hair. He is wearing a pale yellow button-down shirt with dark jeans and sneakers. “Vincent?” I ask.

“Yeah,” he says. “Jill?”

“Uh huh,” I say.

Vincent smiles. “Shall we?”

I smile back and lock the door behind me. Vincent leads me to a beige Honda and opens the passenger door. I get in and buckle up. The interior of the car is clean. The seats are upholstered in gray fabric.

Vincent gets in the driver's seat. “So how was your day?”

“It was fine, thanks,” I say. “And yours?”

“Good,” he says, starting the car. “Yeah. It was pretty good.”

“Well that's good.”

“Yup.”

There's a silence and I fiddle with the hem of my dress. We pull out of my neighborhood and stop at a red light. “So what do you do, Vince?”

“It's Vincent,” he says. “and I'm an accountant.”

Oh boy. An accountant. I've always wanted to meet an accountant. How exciting!

“What do you do?” Vincent asks.

“I train people's dogs,” I say. “Beth didn't tell you?”

“I guess not. Do you have a dog?” he asks.

I look down at my shed-free lap. “Not right now.”

“Oh.” The light turns green. “Not a bad subject, is it?”

“It's fine,” I say and start fiddling with my hem again. “It's been a while now.”

“Are you going to get another one?”

“Eventually.”

“Well that's good,” Vincent says.

There's silence again.

We pull up to an Italian restaurant and get out of the car. Vincent walks to the host stand and says, “Vincent Brown. Party of two.”

The host looks up and smiles. “Okay. Your table is ready. Right this way.” Vincent and I follow the host to a table in the middle of the restaurant. I take the seat facing the kitchen doors and he sits across from me. The host continues, “Ryan will be right with you.”

“So what do you do for fun, Vincent?” I ask.

“I like to read mostly, but I also enjoy a game of Pente.”

“What's that?”

“It's kind of similar to Go,” Vincent says.

“Still lost,” I reply.

“It's a game played on a grid with stones,” Vincent says. “It's hard to explain without showing you.”

“Okay,” I say.

The waiter arrives. He's tall and lean with dark hair and blue eyes. Crap. The waiter shouldn't be hotter than my date. This isn't fair.

“Hi,” he says. “I'm Ryan. Can I get you something to drink?”

I order a glass of Chardonnay and Vincent orders tonic water with lime. Ryan turns to walk back to the kitchen and I focus on Vincent to avoid staring at our waiter's-- Shoulders. Yeah. Shoulders.

“So what do you read?” I ask.

“Nonfiction mostly,” Vincent says. “Economics books, sometimes statistics.”

Oh my. I wonder how this guy manages to stay awake all day. “Interesting,” I say...

In my dream, the people weren't panicking. They weren't running around screaming or breaking windows or looting the fleeting world's material treasures. Nobody was crashing cars into department store windows or driving at all. In fact, nobody was going anywhere.

Everyone had found a place to lay down on the grass and stare at the sky in wonder. Everyone was silent, and they almost seemed to be aware of the great speed at which they were hurdling through space upon the chunk of rock we call home. And that impossible sky made glittering reflections in everyone's eyes.

It seemed everyone knew they were all going to die and they had decided to enjoy their last moments in quiet serenity rather than fear. The inevitability of the Earth's plunge into darkness made any effort seem pointless.

I was the only person who stirred, and I was running...

“And what do you like to do?” Vincent asks.

“Well,” I say. “I like all sorts of things.” I unfold my napkin and place it in my lap. “I like traveling. And I draw.”

“Neat,” Vincent says.

“What do you draw?” Ryan says, placing our drinks in front of us.

“landscapes and animals mostly.”

“Awesome,” Ryan says. “I'm working my way through art school myself.” He smiles.

I blush.

“Are you two ready to order or do you need a few more minutes with the menu?”

“A few more minutes, please,” Vincent says.

Ryan smiles again. “Alrighty. I'll be right back.”

Vincent and I disappear behind our menus. I figure out what I want pretty quickly and place my closed menu back on the table. Vincent is still hidden behind his. Is he reading the whole thing through?

I look around the restaurant. The lighting is bright enough to feel warm and dim enough that the darkness outside is still apparent. The walls are adorned with maps and pictures of Italy and paintings of tomatoes. Most of the tables are occupied by couples and families with kids. Ryan is kneeling at one table, writing down an order. When he finishes, he stands back up and goes to enter it into a touch pad computer screen.

Vincent turns the page in his menu. This is the last time I will let a client set me up with their brother.

I sip my wine. Ryan glances our way, notices Vincent still reading, and disappears into the kitchen. My stomach threatens to growl. And a minute later, Ryan returns with a bread and two little plates.

“Thank you, Ryan,” I say and reach for the bottle of olive oil sitting on the table.

“Enjoy,” he replies. “Do you need help with the menu, sir?” he asks Vincent.

“No thanks. I'm almost ready.”

“Okay. I'll be right back.”

I pour some olive oil onto my appetizer plate, grind some pepper into it, and sprinkle some Parmesan and basil on top. I use a piece of bread to stir the mixture and then eat the bread. It's sourdough. Fluffy on the inside with a strong crust. It's delicious.

I'm on my second piece of bread when Vincent closes his menu and notices it. He takes a slice and eats it plain. “So what kinds of landscapes and animals?” he asks.

“What?”

“You said you draw them.”

“Oh right, yeah,” I say as Ryan makes his way back to our table. “I like mountain and forest settings and my favorite animals are carnivores. Dogs, wolves, big cats, and the like.”

“That's an interesting contrast,” Ryan says. “Why those?”

“Mountains and forests have slow power and hunters have fast power,” I reply.

Ryan nods. “I like that. Anyway, can I take your order?”

“Yeah,” Vincent says. “Can I have the spaghetti with marinara please?”

“Absolutely,” Ryan says. “And would you like any meatballs on that?”

“No thanks.”

I blink. He read the menu all the way through and then got spaghetti with marinara? What was he doing? Looking for tomorrows stock numbers in the entree prices?

“And what can I get for you, ma’am?”

“Can I please have the linguine with asparagus and white wine sauce?” I say.

“Sure thing. And would you like me to put any chicken on there for you?”

Considering the relative prices of what we'd each ordered, I declined.

“Alright,” Ryan gave us each a smile. “I'll get that going. Can I get anything else for you?”

Sure. You can take a seat and hand your apron off to Vincent here. “Just some water, please,” I say.

“Certainly.” Ryan gets up and goes to enter our order.

I take another sip of my wine. Vincent places his own napkin in his lap.

“So,” I say. “How's Beth?” Stupid question. I just saw her and Pepper yesterday.

“She's good,” Vincent says. “Do you have siblings?”

“A half sister,” I say, “but we aren't close. We certainly don't set each other up on dates.”

“Oh, that's a shame.”

“Not really,” I say. “She's married, so I couldn't set her up with anyone anyway.”

“I can see how that would be unwelcome,” Vince says, “but I just meant that it's a shame that you two aren't close.”

“I guess,” I say. “She's five years older, so we never had much in common. And we were each mostly raised by our own moms. They don't like each other.”

“Gee, I wonder why...” Vincent says.

“Yeah.” I smile a little...

I wasn't just running- I was sprinting, and the milder gravity lengthened my strides into enormous bounds. I ignored the magnificent sky in favor of scanning the grassy hills. I was looking around desperately for someone I knew would be able to help. He had to be somewhere. But all I saw were the rolling hills with their eerily weightless grasses waving at the slightest breeze and sedate people mesmerized by the sight of their impending demise.

Where was he?

I ran to the top of a hill and turned in a circle, looking for anyone moving at all. There was no sign of him. It occurred to me that someone might have seen where he went. I started walking down the hill towards the row and stopped at the first person I see.

It was a blondish guy with greyish eyes and a white cotton shirt. He was lying on his back in the grass like everyone else, staring at the sky, his mouth agape and his pupils dilated.

I stooped next to him. “Hello?”

The guy didn't twitch.

I shifted so that my face blocked his view of the sky. “Hey, so have you seen anyone other than me run past?” I asked.

The guy grunted slightly and tried to push me out of his view.

“Please, just focus for a moment,” I said.

“What for?” the guy mumbled as if speech itself was a monumental task.

“I think I might know someone who can help.”

“It's a black hole,” the guy said.

“I know. Humor me. Please.”

The guy tried again to push me away. He wouldn't even look at me properly.

I squeezed his hand. “Please.”

The guy aimed our joined hands off to the west and said, “The caves I think.”

“Thank you!” I said and started to get up. Thinking better of it, I knelt back down long enough to run my other hand through his hair and kiss him briefly before running west...

Vincent finishes his first slice of sourdough and takes a second. I take another sip of Chardonnay and put the glass down so it can wait for the meal.

“So what does your sister do?” Vincent asks.

“Everything,” I say. “She's a chef, teacher, and janitor rolled into one.”

Vincent frowns. “Small school?”

“She's a mom.”

“Oh,” the frown subsides. “Funny.”

I take my third slice of bread and use it to soak up the last of the olive oil on my plate. But then I still have bread in my hand and nothing to dip it in, so I pour more onto the plate.

“How many nieces and nephews do you have?” Vincent asks.

“Three,” I say. “Twin boys and a girl. Do you and Beth have any other siblings?”

“No,” Vincent says. “It's just us. Well, she has Bill and German Shepherd.”

“Pepper, yeah,” I say. “I work with her. She's great.”

“I suppose she is now,” Vincent says. “I suppose I should thank you for the end of her biting habit?

“It's never all me,” I say, “but you're welcome.”

“How do you mean?”

“Well Pepper only sees me once a week.” I finish the piece of bread, but there is now oil left on the plate, so I take another. “Training doesn't stick if I'm the only one involved in the process. It's less about me teaching Pepper and more about guiding the relationship between her and her humans. If Beth and Bill didn't stay consistent with her, Pepper wouldn't have learned anything.”

A waiter that wasn't Ryan set a tray next to our table. “Okay, I have a linguine with asparagus.” I raised my hand slightly and the waiter put the dish in front of me. “And a spaghetti marinara for the gentleman,” the waiter continued, placing Vincent's food in front of him.

“This looks wonderful, thank you,” I say. I scoop up a piece of asparagus with my spoon and use it to anchor the noodles I'm twirling on my fork. It really is excellent. “How's yours, Vincent?”

“It's good,” he says between bites and then takes his first sip of his tonic water. It must be going flat by now.

Ryan walks up to our table and asks, “How's everything tasting tonight?”

“It's perfect,” I say.

Vincent nods.

“Excellent,” Ryan says and rushes back to the kitchen...

I ran over the hills and a barren cliff face loomed over me in the quick sort of transition that makes perfect sense in a dream. The ground turned from soft grass to stone in an instant as I made a beeline for a wide crack in the cliff face. I hardly cared about the rough terrain or loose rocks. As soon as I got to the opening of the cave, I took one last look at the bizarre sky and scrabbled inside.

The cave wasn't much darker on the inside than it had been in the hills. The walls, ceiling, and floor had green crystals jutting out of them, and the light seemed to bounce through them all over the cavern.

It was enough light to see that I was definitely alone. There was nobody here to help me figure out how the crystals figured in to saving the planet. I had to figure it out all on my own and I had absolutely no idea what to do...

I continue eating my dinner, glad for an excuse not to keep fumbling around for something to talk about. Vincent seems utterly engrossed in his spaghetti, so I savor the way that my wine and the food complement each other. As I keep eating, I try to figure out by tasting how they had made the dish so I could duplicate it at home. The linguine and asparagus are obvious enough ingredients. And white wine sauce was mentioned on the menu. But it is creamy. How did they make a creamy sauce with wine without curdling the cream? I guess they must cook out the alcohol before adding the cream. That would make sense. Herbs in it too of course. And I'd probably add spinach and some squash at home too. And maybe salmon. Yeah. That would be amazing.

I take another sip of wine and contemplate the slice of garlic bread sitting on the edge of my plate. I usually avoid it on a first date to avoid garlic breath, but it looks so good. After another twirl of linguine and another sip of Chardonnay, I glance up at Vincent, who just got hit in the nose by the end of a slurped spaghetti noddle and doesn't wipe away the sauce. And then I eat my garlic bread.