"Okay, fine, monogamy has some wonderful aspects to it. Excitement, however, is not one of them."
If Hugh wants to know about Seth, I'm going to give him the blunt, unfiltered version.
"Fine. He's got caveman pheromones and an ass you could bounce a quarter on. He's also a self-righteous jerk. He accused me of snooping around the kitchen. Can you believe that?"
"Were you?" he asks.
"Yes, but he didn't know that!"
"What were you hoping to find in the kitchen? Evidence that reveals Renata's troubled past of shaking down lovelorn retirees?" Hugh laughs at his own joke.
When he puts it that way, I feel completely ridiculous for trying to look through the notebook in the kitchen drawer.
"I'm just saying he didn't know that I was snooping. Maybe I was looking for a paring knife or a zester."
"I'm surprised you know what either of those things are," he says dryly. "So you two have some friction going on. I like it. Hate sex can be fun, but I shouldn't encourage you. You need a healthy relationship for once. Speaking of relationships, have you ruined your father's yet?"
"Very funny. My intention isn't to break them up. I just want to convince them to come live in the city with me."
In fact, I did very little to work toward that goal today. Thrift store shopping and visiting a psychic weren't going to bring Dad home. I needed to focus and get on my game.
"You do realize how evil this is, right?" I hate it when Hugh uses his lecturing tone. "The man is finally happy and in love, and you're putting that in jeopardy because you need to have him living ten minutes away from you."
What he's saying hits dangerously close to the truth. I do want Dad to live near me, and maybe that is selfish. Although, there's more to this than what is at stake for me.
"You know that's not what this is all about. He can't just walk away from his whole life without carefully considering what he's doing. I think if he went back to New York, even for a week, he'd realize that he misses his old life. This is a fun adventure, but it's not who he is. People who make impetuous decisions like this live to regret it."
"And you said the hottie is self-righteous," Hugh says. "Have you considered that Herb isn't like your mother? He doesn't make impulsive decisions. He does copious research and price comparison before he commits to buying a new pair of sneakers. Maybe he came to this decision after thinking it over carefully."
"Right, because becoming a goat farmer is such a logical career move for Dad."
"I don't think it's about a career," Hugh says. "He's thinking about what makes his heart happy, and that's not all bad."
The screen door slams, and my head snaps toward it in surprise. Seth is standing there, and for once his expression isn't inscrutable. He heard me talking about Dad, and he's pissed.
"Gotta run," I tell Hugh. "I love you."
I swipe the screen to end the call, and Seth continues to loom behind me, saying nothing. He's still wearing his work uniform, dark pants and a matching short-sleeved button-down shirt. There's a red and gold patch on his sleeve making him look very official and, goddammit, what is it about a man in a uniform?
"Hey, what are you doing here this late? Did you just get off of work?" I casually play off the fact that I'm mortified.
Thank god I didn't turn on the porch light when I came outside because my cheeks are a lovely shade of scarlet right now. He knows that I want to take Dad back to New York. Still, it could be worse. He could have arrived moments earlier and heard me rhapsodizing about his good looks. That would be unbearable.
"They blew a fuse and needed my help," he says in a flat voice, gesturing toward the house. Then he whistles and calls out, "C'mon, Mutt!"
His dog gallumps across the lawn, all legs and paws, and bounds up the porch steps. Seth opens the screen door to let him inside, and Mutt spots me and makes a beeline for my lady parts. This dog is singularly focused, which is particularly disturbing considering Aunt Flo is in town. This time I'm ready. I intercept his head and scratch behind his ears before he can make contact with my private areas.
"Let's go, Mutt," Seth says darkly.
The dog gives me one last longing look, as if he's having trouble choosing between us so I stop petting him and lean back, my hands clenched on my lap. Once he's been rejected, he gives me a parting lick on the knee and trots to Seth's side. Seth doesn't bother to say goodnight before banging out the screen door and striding off into the darkness with his dog at his heels.
I sit there for another hour, watching the fireflies flicker around the yard and listening to the cicadas drone. The scent of jasmine drifts past me on the night breeze with only the occasional whiff of goat stink to ruin it. It's impossibly romantic and atmospheric here, even to a jaded Yankee like me. The only thing that would improve this fine evening would be a bar of really good dark chocolate, maybe one with sea salt or candied ginger inside it. Also, not being spied on by a judgmental future stepbrother who enjoys giving death stares, that would be good, too. I can't believe I ever considered that Seth could be the person Isabelle mentioned in her reading. That is never going to happen. Never.
This is how Dad became convinced he should stay here. He fell prey to the scenery and the season. It's the classic problem of living in a vacation fantasy world. Like the couple I know who went to Hawaii, soaked in the beauty of the islands, and decided to chuck their lives as corporate wage slaves. They didn't think about natural disasters, housing prices and the size of tropical bugs. Within a year, they were back in Manhattan begging for their old jobs. Unfortunately for Dad, summer nights and the rush of a new love affair won't last forever. This fall the reality of retirement in a hick town will hit him, and he's going to have some serious regrets. Maybe he already does.
For a long time, I rock on the glider, replaying my conversation with Hugh to determine exactly what Seth heard. Eventually, I come to the conclusion that it doesn't matter what he heard or what he thinks about me. He's someone I met a couple of days ago, and someone I won't have to deal with for much longer. The fact that he has some weird effect on my libido is not relevant. It's biological, and I can overcome those urges. That's the advantage of being a human and not a canine like Mutt. We can keep our noses out of inappropriate crotches, so to speak.
* * *
