“Mom!”
So much for my charade. “Sorry, sweetie . . . zoned out for a sec.”
Eileen mustered her best hurt face and stuck out her lower lip. “When did you stop listening?”
“Hey, it’s not like that. I just have a lot on my mind and you were kind of rattling about the puppies.” I pulled her into a hug, but she remained stiff. “Come on, Leeni. You know I love ya!”
“I guess so . . . ”
“Alright now, don’t push it too far. I’m sorry, and I mean it. Now what were you saying?”
“I asked if you’d fix pancakes for breakfast.”
“Sure, babe. And I am sorry I wasn’t listening. Forgive me? I’ll give you a free pass the next time you aren’t listening to me . . . ”
“Deal!”
I whipped up some pancakes—which were on my short list of things I could cook—and we decided to eat outside on the back porch. Picnic style, we sat on the same frayed floor cushions and ate with our plates in our laps. I loved mornings in the spring and fall—too chilly for mosquitoes.
“Any homework this weekend?”
Eileen paused with her fork almost to her mouth, syrup dripping off the multi-tiered bite. “I need to do some research on our group project.”
“Online research, I hope? It’s Sunday. Library’s closed.”
“Yeah, just need some info on how we first started using electricity. Edison’s inventions . . . stuff like that.”
“Maybe you should do that after breakfast, then. I’m not sure how long we’ll stay, and I don’t want you to be stressed out tonight because you haven’t done it.”
I was fairly certain she agreed, but it was kind of hard to tell around the sticky mass of pancake she’d shoved in her mouth. I raised my eyebrow, and she made a show of delicately patting her lips with her napkin.
A couple of hours later we arrived at Adam and Cara’s house. They lived on the waterway side of the peninsula that led down to the southern beaches, only about ten minutes from our own house. We had the Bronc’s windows rolled down, and could hear excited yapping as soon as we pulled into the driveway.
“The puppies!” Eileen bounced out of the truck before I even had a chance to cut the engine. “Look! They’re so cute!”
Adam and Cara’s house was a modern, stucco-walled, two-story villa set forward on the narrow end of a deep, wedge-shaped lot. A wrought-iron fence wrapped around from the backyard to the left side of the house, and eager little tan and brown fur balls caroused just on the other side of the gate.
The puppies clambered over their yellow Lab mother, anxiously competing for Eileen’s attention while their mom offered one welcoming bark. At the noise, Adam appeared on the other side of the gate, and started shooing the puppies away so he could let us through.
“Hi, there! Gimme a sec . . . ” He wrangled three of them in his arms and held the other two back with his foot. “Quick! Come in!”
We scooted through, and the puppies converged on Eileen as if she was a giant puppy toy for their very own. Her delighted giggles were interrupted only by her soft murmurs to the mother dog as she made friends with all of them.
“Sorry about that,” he apologized as he latched the gate behind us.
“Why? That’s exactly the welcome Eileen wanted.”
“Yeah, we don’t need a doorbell . . . or an alarm system. Nothing gets past that bunch.”
“What’re their names?” My daughter’s face was already radiant from puppy licks and cuddles.
“The mom is Betty, and the pups are Archie, Jughead, Ronnie, and Dilton . . . ” He gestured to each one in turn, and scooped up the fifth puppy. “But this little guy is too sweet to be a ‘Reggie.’ Any ideas?”
“Really? I get to name him?”
“Sure thing.”
“Caramel!”
“Caramel?” He lifted the golden brown puppy up to his face and it licked his nose. “Guess he likes it.”
“I bet Cara will, too!”
“Pretty clever, kid.”
“That’s ‘cause I’m a super-genius.” With a magnificent grin, she took the wriggling pup and ran off with the rest of the puppy pack.
Adam’s eyes followed her like compass needles swinging North. His expression was . . . sad? I knelt beside Betty and rubbed her ears, wondering what he was thinking. The dog woofed softly at her owner and he looked down at us.
“What’d you bring?” He gestured to the parchment paper sticking out of my purse.
“Nothing much . . . ” I stood up and pulled an edge of the paper back. “Just some rosemary from the house. Thought maybe you could use it when you grill . . . ”
“Your momma taught you to always bring something?”
“Something like that.” My cheeks warmed as he took the parcel and sniffed.
“Smells good. Tasty on potatoes.” He looked again to where Eileen and the pups were romping together. “The yard goes around the back of the house down to the marsh, but the whole place is fenced in, so she’ll be safe. Do you want to come in? Cara’s upstairs.”
“Sure, one sec.” I went over to tell her where we’d be and to call out if she needed anything. She rolled her eyes, but was too happy with the puppies to remind me that she was old enough to be outside by herself.
There’s Always More
I followed Adam across the stone patio and through glass doors into the house, marveling at the welcoming balance between rustic craftsmanship and contemporary lines. The terraced patio allowed lush green spaces to mingle among a grill, dining table, and fire pit—but inside was the real showstopper.
A vaulted ceiling and exposed beams sculpted the height of the huge room and a pair of arched alcoves trimmed with teak shelving defined its depth. Cozy-looking armchairs and a plump sofa meandered around a modern, slate-tiled fireplace; and off to my right an open kitchen gleamed with polished concrete countertops and glass tile work. A richly stained wood-paneled hood rose above a large multi-burner gas range, and the oversized island hosted not one, but two sinks. With
