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Authors: Susan C. Daffron

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BOOK: Fuzzy Logic
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Bruce turned his head to survey the room again. “The place sort of looks like it did when I bought it. Maybe that’s not so bad. Those were some good times.”

Michael smiled. “And you’ll have good times again with Angie, I’m sure. So how was your day? Did you meet up with the guys?”

Bruce’s face lit up. “Yeah, we had some fun. My buddy Dave is the best. I love that guy. We got some coffee and then hung out at his place. Played some poker. Watched the game. Drank some beer. It was a great day.”

“I’m glad. Jan and I will clean up our pizza, then we should head out. Maybe you could call Angie and let her know the place is clean.”

Bruce nodded. “I will. Thanks for doing this. We’ll see what she thinks.”

Jan and Michael put everything away, collected Swoosie, and said goodnight to Bruce, who still looked sort of sad. As Jan closed the door behind her, she said, “Maybe I’m just tired, but I’m wondering if we did the right thing. I feel a little bad for him.”

“Don’t. He’s been in a sort of emotional limbo since my mom died years ago. He never even went out on dates with anyone. Your mother is the first person I know about. That’s why their wedding was a surprise. Maybe he’s finally moving on.”

Jan leaned on the side of her rental car and faced Michael. “I hope so. He seemed so sad. It’s weird, because before, I only knew him as the guy with the purple hair and blue jumpsuit.”

“All of his troubles didn’t go down the drain.”

Jan smirked. “Oh please; that’s not the Toilet King song; it’s the Roto-Rooter jingle and you know it.”

Michael smiled. “Just checking to see how tired you really are.” He reached over and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear. “I was serious about dinner, too. I’ve got tomorrow off because of that audit at work. Do you have plans? If I have to take vacation time, it would be nice to do something fun.”

“I should make sure my mother doesn’t need anything. That’s why I’m here, after all.” Jan grimaced. “And gosh, what could be more fun than cleaning up detritus from the late 70s?”

“I’m sure I can think of something.”

After that astonishing lust-inducing kiss earlier, Jan was pretty sure he was right.

Angie assured Jan that everything was fine with Bruce and encouraged her to go out and have a good time. “You never do anything fun. Live a little!” Although Angie’s comment about her lack of social life was a little insensitive, Jan was secretly relieved not to be spending more time with her mother and her crystals. Unfortunately, being with Michael was becoming more complicated. She was starting to enjoy being around him a little too much. Shouldn’t she be mourning the loss of her relationship with Steve more? Going out and having fun with Michael (whatever that meant) seemed somehow sacrilegious.

Michael asked Jan to meet him the next morning at a coffee shop that was far enough away from his house that he could give Swoosie a proper walk and tire her out. Jan arrived at the cheerful, bright yellow Victorian building and found Michael and Swoosie already sitting at one of the tables on the wraparound deck. As she walked by the door into the building, the scent of exotic spices tickled her nose.

“You both look relaxed. This is a beautiful building.”

Michael handed a piece of croissant to Swoosie and stood up. “It’s actually a restored train station. And the coffee is excellent.”

“It certainly smells good. Swoosie seems to think the croissant is tasty, too.”

Michael passed Swoosie’s leash to Jan. “Hang on to her while I’ll go get you some coffee.”

Jan sat down and looked down at the dog. “You’re going to behave yourself, right?” Swoosie wagged her tail and turned to watch as Michael disappeared through huge train station doors into the cafe area. Then she put her paws up on the table and snatched the rest of the croissant off the plate.

“Swoosie, NO!” Jan yelped as she jerked back on the leash. But it was too late; Swoosie was hurriedly snarfing down the remains of the pastry. What an amazing food thief. Looking around, Jan couldn’t see Michael anywhere. She should tell him to get himself a new croissant, but the coffee shop was extremely crowded, and it wasn’t worth risking losing this choice seating location on the deck. Maybe Michael would think about getting himself something else to eat, given his dog’s tendency to consume everything within reach. After all, this certainly wasn’t the first time the dog had snarfed something while he wasn’t looking.

Having finished her croissant, Swoosie sat up again and peered at the table. And then stared mournfully at Jan.

“Oh please. Spare me the puppy-dog eyes. You are not starving. That was probably 500 calories, you little swine.”

Swoosie perked up her ears, wagged her tail, and smiled in response.

Jan bent to stroke the dog’s soft pointy ears. “You are just absurdly cute, though. I’m sure that helps you get away with everything.”

She turned as a female voice behind her said, “Please, please can I pet your dog?” The tall, athletic woman was wearing skin-tight bike shorts and a rainbow top that matched the bike helmet she had cradled in her arm. “What kind of dog is it?”

“She’s not my dog, but yes, she’s very friendly. Swoosie is a Samoyed.” Swoosie wagged her tail more vigorously, looking forward to enjoying some more affection from a new human.

The woman crouched and put her helmet down on the wooden deck so she could cuddle Swoosie’s face with both hands. “Oooh, aren’t you just the cuuuutest little thing!”

Jan rolled her eyes melodramatically at Michael as he walked up with a tray of coffee and pastries. “Welcome back. I hope you got extra. Swoosie decided she needed a snack.”

Michael leaned over and put the plate as far from the edge of the table as possible. “Swoosie knows you’re new at dealing with her. Constant vigilance is required with this dog. She totally played you.”

Having finished loving up Swoosie, the woman stood up, took one look at Michael, and thrust out her hand. “Hello! I’m Veronica. Is this your dog? I love her!”

Michael smiled and shook Veronica’s hand. “Yes, she is. Thank you. It’s nice to meet you.”

Michael stood, waiting for Veronica to leave so he could sit down. He nodded in the direction of the cafe. “The line is getting longer. You might want to get over there before all those people crammed into that yellow microbus in the parking lot make it over here. Then the line will be out the door.”

Veronica looked at the line, then at Jan and said, “Oh. Okay. Yes, I’d better go. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime?”

Michael moved to sit down at the table, “Maybe.”

Jan reached for her coffee. “Good grief. Being around you and Swoosie is just a love fest. You’d think that woman had never seen a cute dog or a good-looking man before.”

Michel grinned. “You think I’m good-looking?”

“Way to fish for compliments. Men who know they are good-looking seem less attractive, by the way. I’m guessing that one of your ardent groupies may have mentioned that before.”

“Maybe once or twice.”

“Kat’s friend Maria says you look like the Marlboro man back when he was hot.”

Michael peered over his steaming coffee mug as he took a sip. “I don’t know who Kat or Maria are, but does that mean you were talking about me with your girlfriends?”

Jan felt the color rise on her cheeks. “Well, I don’t know if they are my girlfriends, exactly. Kat is taking care of my dog Rosa while I’m here. They invited me to a little party of sorts, after they found out about the whole thing with Steve at the library.”

“Oh yeah. That.” Michael leaned back in his chair, cupping his mug in both hands in front of him. “The thing I like about this place is that it’s right on the 101. You can watch every prototype Southern California person go by. For example, Veronica is one of the Spandex People. They are very serious bikers and they have to be aerodynamic, so their clothes show every possible nuance of their form, whether you want to see it or not.”

Jan inclined her head toward the cafe. “You seemed to appreciate Veronica’s assets.”

“Well, yes, but I don’t want to see Harry the Welder’s junk over there.” Michael shifted his gaze toward a burly man wearing a tank top and bicycle shorts who was walking up the steps into the cafe. “I mean that’s just way more than I need to know.”

Jan giggled and glanced toward the man at the next table. “Okay, what about that guy?”

Michael turned and looked quickly at the man. “Oh that’s easy. That’s your basic Biker Dude. The leather vest is a dead giveaway. I’ll bet you fifty bucks that the vest has the classic Harley logo on the back.”

Jan shook her head. “Not taking that bet. What about the guy over there? He looks pretty normal.”

Michael swiveled in his chair to take a look. “Hmm, that’s Mr. Pressed Jeans. Ultra yuppie. Probably drives an extremely expensive car. And he’s very proud of it. That big keychain with the wad of keys on the table probably has the logo on it. Maybe Porsche? Lamborghini? Ferrari?”

“Hard to say.”

He turned toward a woman at another nearby table who was reading a book. “And then you have this woman. She’s one of the Solo Book People. She wants to get out and be around other human beings, but she brings a book to ensure no one will actually talk to her. The book is like a death ray for introverts who want to be left alone.”

“Hey, now you’re talking about
my
people! I don’t know if I’m an introvert exactly, but people who read need to eat too, you know.” Jan picked off a piece of croissant and popped it in her mouth. “Your descriptions remind me of high school. Like T
he Breakfast Club
, where you have the brain, the athlete, the princess, the basket case, and the criminal. This may not be a surprise, but I was a brain in high school. What were you? I’m guessing you were a jock, right?”

Michael looked thoughtful for a second. “Eventually, I guess. But if we’re classifying based on the movie, for a lot of high school I was more like the Judd Nelson character, although I don’t think I actually ever told anyone to eat my shorts.”

Jan smiled. “Ahh, so you were a bad boy? I’m trying to envision you in the grubby torn denim jacket.”

“More like a smart ass. As a brain, you may not realize this, but most teachers don’t appreciate that type of humor. My mom’s death messed me up for a while, and my dad and I weren’t getting along. I skipped a lot of classes, took up smoking and other undesirable habits, you might say. Then my junior year, a buddy convinced me that if I took up track I could meet girls. So I had to quit smoking or succumb to serious respiratory distress out on the field.”

“You cleaned up nicely in the end. Well, according to Veronica, anyway.”

“Wait! I forgot one more type of Southern California person.” Michael sat up straight and looked around the cafe. “I don’t see them here today; maybe it’s too early. But we can’t forget about the Stroller People. They’re the parents who have the gigantic, $350 running strollers that they have trouble controlling, so they bump into everything. It’s like bumper cars, except with screaming toddlers.”

“You spend a lot of time here, don’t you?” Jan said.

“Hey, there’s outdoor seating and Swoosie needs her exercise.” Hearing her name, Swoosie wagged in agreement, but didn’t take her eyes off the pastry remnants that were still on the table.

Michael waved in the general direction of the coastline. “This is only the beginning. From the sound of it, you didn’t do much of anything fun when you lived here, so it’s time to go see the sights of San Diego. We can stop by my place, drop off Swoosie for a nap, and then go from there.”

“Where are we going?” Jan asked with a bit of trepidation.

“You’ll find out.”

Chapter 7

Fun in the Sun

A
fter they dropped off Swoosie, Michael took Jan to a street fair. He regaled her with stories about her fellow tourists while she looked at crafts and knickknacks. They stood in front of a huge display of tie-dyed shirts, skirts, and tapestries. The colorful cloth flapped merrily in the ocean breeze, the rainbow flags celebrating peace, love, and herbal enjoyment.

Michael gave her a friendly nudge. “You need a sarong.”

“Because librarians so often wear sarongs?”

BOOK: Fuzzy Logic
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