“Will they have time to eat before they go?” Sarah asked.
“These will be out of the oven in fifteen,” he said, setting the timer on the stove. “I made one vegetarian and one with ham and pineapple...I remembered that’s Casey’s favorite...so they’ll have plenty of time to eat before they have to leave.”
“Thanks, Coach,” Casey said.
He’d noticed that she preferred to call him that instead of using his first name, and he quite liked it.
“So can I go, Mom?”
“What about Petey?” Sarah asked. “Doesn’t he need to be walked?”
The girl looked deflated. “He does. Sorry, I forgot.”
Hmm. The dog just might give him a chance to extend the evening, spend a little extra time with Sarah. “If you want, we can walk him after we’ve finished eating. I could use some exercise, too.”
“Oh. Okay, I guess we could do that.” Sarah didn’t sound overly eager.
Jon hadn’t even met the dog and he liked him already.
Kate and Casey grinned and winked at each other over the tops of their sodas, obviously ecstatic about the prospect of hanging out with Henry and most likely one of the other boys from school. Sarah didn’t seem to notice and that was just as well, since he had his own selfish reasons for wanting to spend alone time with her. Finally, he had opportunity to apologize for his behavior last Saturday and, he hoped, to convince her that he was not the loser dad she thought he was.
SARAH BUNCHED HER napkin and set it on her empty plate. “I think I ate too much,” she said, groaning just a little. “Those pizzas were so good, especially the last one.”
Which surprised her because she’d watched Jonathan make it—a layer of provolone topped with fresh sliced pears and sprinkled with gorgonzola and chopped pecans—and thought it had to be the strangest pizza combo ever. She had sampled it cautiously and discovered it was also the most delicious.
“Glad you liked it.” He gathered up the paper napkins, stacked their plates and reached for the ones the girls had abandoned when they’d rushed out to meet their friends.
“I’ll help.” She collected the glasses, dumped chunks of ice into the sink and loaded them into the dishwasher.
The conversation had been easy and relaxed while the girls laughed and talked and gossiped. But then they’d left in a flurry of back-and-forth text messages with their friends, leaving the kitchen quiet and Sarah feeling awkwardly tongue-tied. She hadn’t anticipated being alone with him tonight.
Jonathan gave the table and counters a quick swipe and tossed the cloth over the tap. “That should do it.”
“So...I’ll run home and meet you out front with the dog?”
“Sounds good.”
Back at her place, she let a very excited, tail-wagging dog out of his crate.
“Sit still,” she said.
He sat immediately, tongue still in action, eyes alert with excitement.
“Good dog. And you can stop being so cute. That works on Casey but not me.”
She clipped the leash to his collar, determined not to let the cuteness of the little upturned face get to her.
“Come on, you rascal,” she said, being tugged along as he bolted for the front door.
Jonathan waited at the end of the driveway and he laughed when he saw Petey. “He is pretty cute, no question about that.”
“Casey’s counting on that to soften me up. She thinks that by the time the repairs at the shelter have been completed, I will be as much in love with him as she is and will want to keep him.”
Jonathan fell into step beside her. “You’re saying that won’t happen?”
“It can’t. We’re both out of the house all day so it’s not fair to the dog.”
He didn’t respond and they walked in silence for a moment or two.
“I’ve never been much of a cat person,” he said. “Kate had her heart set on having one, though, so a few years ago we gave in and adopted Princess from the SPCA. After my wife and I separated, Kate spent a lot of time in her room. The cat is in there most of the time, so I was glad then that she had a pet.”
Sarah tipped her head so she could see his face. “You think I should let Casey keep him?”
“Oh, geez, I have no opinion. I have a hard enough time making the right decisions for my own daughter. I’m just saying what worked for us.”
“Well, we’re not getting a cat. I’m allergic to them.”
He looked down at her, eyebrows curved up like a pair of question marks.
“What?”
“You just spent a couple of hours at my place. Did our cat bother you?”
Huh. No, it did not. “Usually my eyes itch and I start to sneeze when I’m around a cat. And that’s the truth. I’m not making it up.”