He picks his fork back up. “Did you call the vet?”
“I did. They said to watch him when he’s in the backyard so he doesn’t get the opportunity to eat his poop.” I lift my goblet to my lips and take a long sip.
“Did you ask why he’s doing this?”
My stomach coils. “The, uh, the doctor said it could be due to anxiety.”
“Anxiety. Like you.”
“Yeah. He asked if we’ve been stressed, because dogs can pick up on our feelings.”
Recognition flashes across Paul’s face, his light-brown eyes hardening. “So what did you tell him?”
“I told him everything’s fine, of course. He said we could put Maverick on a low dose of anxiety medication, but I said that won’t be necessary. We’ll just watch him better when he’s outside. Won’t happen again if we keep an eye on him.” I force a smile and clasp my hands together. “Ready for dessert?”
He shakes his head and pushes his chair back as he stands. “I’m going to change. Got some e-mails to send out.”
“Of course. I’ll get this all cleaned up.”
He’s gone before the sentence leaves my lips.
Could’ve gone worse, I suppose.
I release a sigh and begin stacking our plates.
While I rinse off the dishes in the sink, I gaze out the window into the darkened yard. The pool house at the far end elicits the memory of the bizarre encounter in Josie’s backyard this morning.
I’ve tried not to think about the rude stranger all day, but my mind keeps drifting back to him. Back to what he’d said.
He was right. I’d judged him by his appearance and made an assumption based on it. Shouldn’t have been that big of a deal, though. He could’ve laughed it off like a silly misunderstanding. He didn’t need to go off on me like he did. People judge books by their covers all the time.
Hell, he did the same thing with me, didn’t he? He lumped me in with the wealthy people in this neighborhood, pointing out my expensive clothes and accessories, calling me a fake without knowing anything about me. I could call him a jerk and chalk it up to him being mean.
But his words carry weight.
I am a fake.
I am living a lie.
Who was that man, and how did he read me so easily?
More importantly, does Josie know that someone was in her yard today?
I dry my hands on a dishtowel and dig through my purse to find my phone. Before I can tap out a text, I spot one already waiting in my inbox. When I click on it and read the words that pop up on the screen, my hand clamps over my mouth.
Josie: So I heard you met my brother this morning.
Two
Callie
No white truck.
My shoulders lower, and I expel a relieved breath as I lock my door behind me.
I’d almost said no when Josie asked me to come over. Between the idea of putting on a swimsuit and the encounter I’d had with her brother yesterday, it was a recipe for disaster.
But Josie is my best friend, and I can’t hide from her forever. It’s already been a few weeks since I’ve seen her, and I don’t doubt that she’d make good on her threat to knock down my door if I didn’t come by today.
When I step onto Josie’s monogrammed welcome mat, the door swings open before my finger makes it to the doorbell.
“Why aren’t you in your bathing suit?”
I glance down at my teal dress to avoid looking into Josie’s demanding gaze as I lie. “I don’t feel like swimming today.”
She plants her hand on her hip. “Why the hell not?”
I pop a nonchalant shoulder and step inside her foyer. “Just not in the mood.”
Her suspicious eyes narrow. “Well, the heathens are out back, so we’re sitting poolside until the twins wake up.” She waves her arm and leads the way to her kitchen.
The heathens she’s referring to are her children: Brandon, Miles, Lucas, and Serenity. Brandon is on the cusp of becoming a teenager, Miles not far behind him. The twins are two years old and living proof that birth control is only 99.7% effective.
Josie hadn’t been prepared for another child, let alone twins. But she took it in stride, like she does with everything. Josie is a force. Strong. Outspoken. Hardworking. A loving wife. And the best mother to those kids. She’s a fierce friend too.
Which is why I do my damndest to keep my truth from her when I have to.
“Grab that pitcher.” She gestures to the carafe filled with lemonade on the granite countertop as she lifts a large veggie platter. “Nothing but healthy snacks for these little fuckers today.”
I chuckle and slide open the glass door for her. “Let me know how that goes.”
“Oh, it’s gonna go.” Josie saunters to the large, teak patio table and sets the platter down. “The boys think they can live off of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos all summer, but they’ve got another thing coming.”
“Hey!” Brandon shouts. “Cheetos are orange, just like carrots. Totally healthy.”
Josie raises her eyebrow at me. “Do you see what I’m dealing with?”
I shake my head. “Brandon, you’re going to need a better argument than that.”
His shoulders slump. “I’ll work on it.”
“Your hair looks so good natural like this.” Josie twirls a lock of my hair around her finger. “You should wear it curly more often.”
“Thanks.” I tuck the strand behind my ear. “Paul likes it better straight.”
“Callie! Watch this!” Miles charges full-speed toward the inground pool, his dark curls bouncing in the wind. When he gets to the edge of the pool, he hurtles himself into the air, tucking his chin to his chest, and does a somersault into the water.
I clap when his head emerges. “Woo! That was awesome, Miles!”
“What score do you give me?”
I tap my index finger against my chin. “Hmm. Dismount was solid. A little shaky on the flip toward the end, though. I give it a nine.”
He gives me a solemn nod, taking my feedback as seriously as if he were in a competition. I suppose with his big brother watching, he is.
“Keep your knees tight to your chest next time, and it’ll be flawless.”
A grin brightens his face as he hoists himself out of the pool. “I’m gonna practice.”
My heart swells. I love Josie’s kids as if they were my own.
My own.
Something I’ll never have.
I shake off the pang of jealousy and set myself straight. There’s no room for that here. Only love.
“Now, if I’d told him that?” Josie says, lowering herself into a lounge chair. “He would’ve told me to fuck off.”
“He would not! You’re the only one with a potty mouth in this house.”
“Dan’s waiting for the day one of them repeats me.” She waggles her eyebrows. “I am too. He promised he’d spank me instead of them.”
I throw my head back and laugh. “You’re sick.”
The synchronized wail of toddlers awakening from their naps crackles through the baby monitor.
“God damnit! I just sat down.”
I hold my palm up and rocket out of my chair. “I’ll get them.”