Page 36 of Goodbye Again
“What? Trader Joe’s Red Curry Sauce is life-changing,” I say.
He practically rolls his eyes at me as he slides out of the car and jogs around to open my door.
“Have you had it?” I question, taking his outstretched hand and stepping out of the car onto the curb.
“No, I haven’t.”
I nod, my lips turned down in a smug told-you-so frown. “So then stop judging me as some crunchy downtowner with an expensive grocery bill.”
He laughs loud, walking around to his trunk to retrieve my bag. “I just saw you inhale a Crunch Wrap Supreme from Taco Bell with Fire Sauce. Trust me. I don’t think you’re nearly as pretentious as you want to be.”
This makes me laugh an ugly, snorty laugh, and I hold a hand up to my mouth, disguising my blush. He gently touches my cheek while his other hand slings my suitcase out of the back.
“You’re too cute to be pretentious.”
I flash a coy smile, letting it vanish quickly as I take my suitcase from him. “Who said I was trying to be cute or pretentious?”
The wheels of my suitcase click against the grooves of the dry pavement until I buzz myself into the building. I turn to see JP holding the door open, but something about his posture is hesitating. He pauses outside the threshold until I say, “You can come up if you want. I have someone I’d like you to meet.”
He follows me inside. His gaze questioning who could possibly be sitting inside my apartment. The elevator climbs to my floor and he follows me down the long hallway until we reach my apartment. When I swing the door open, Kevin yelps.
“Hi, Kevin!” I exclaim dropping to a knee and scratching his ears. “How was he, Kenna?”
“Great!” she smiles as Kevin runs circles around me, whining with excitement.
“You have a dog named Kevin,” JP says. His voice is neither shocked or teasing. There is no inflection or humor. Just a monotone statement.
Kevin barks twice at him, wagging his tail. “I have a dog named Kevin. Do you like dogs?” I ask, though the answer is clear as JP goes from bended knee to sitting on his bum on the hardwood floor, letting my goldendoodle lick his face and wiggle in his arms.
“He likes you,” I say, voice even.
“What’s not to like?” JP remarks over the golden curls on my dog’s head.
Kenna, my dog sitter, cocks an eyebrow.
I ignore her facial insinuations as Kevin leaves JP on the floor to return to me, and I scratch his ears. “I’ll Venmo you?”
She nods. “Kevin already ate and I just walked him, so I’m sure he’ll crash as soon as the excitement of you coming home wears off. Oh, and your mail is on the counter. Mostly junk.”
I smile. “Thanks, Kenna.”
She grabs her coat and overnight bag, and I tell her goodbye as she slips out the door. At the click of the latch, I spin on my heel to see Kevin bringing JP about seven dog toys, hoping one will spark enough joy in JP that he’ll play with him.
JP grabs the stuffed, squeaky penguin and tosses it across the room for Kevin to retrieve. He catches me observing him. “I didn’t know you had a dog.”
“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me,” I respond. “I met you seventy-two hours ago.”
“Keeping track of every hour?” He arches an eyebrow.
“Every minute,” I correct. “With excruciating notes being taken.” I walk to the kitchen, not looking back at him, but I sense him smiling. My apartment is nice but it isn’t fancy, and I can sense him taking it all in. The hardwood floors, the ornate rug and leather couch. The concrete counter tops adorned with candles and stacks of books. It’s warm and humble.
“You have a dog named Kevin,” he says again with no inflection.
“Do you not like his name?” I ask, flipping through the mail in the kitchen.
JP opens his mouth to speak and closes it. I can’t tell if he wants to laugh or roll his eyes or both. “Why Kevin?”
“I’m a big Kevin Costner fan.”
