I was in the dining room cleaning up the mess when Alexis came back into the house with Hunter behind her.
The dining room was destroyed. Fucking destroyed. There was a piece of French toast stuck to the wall, coffee on the Oriental rug under the table, orange juice splattered all over the hutch, broken glass.
“I think I’m going to have to set you guys up in the four-season porch,” I said to her, shaking my head at the room. Thank God I always made enough for seconds.
Hunter pushed his face under Alexis’s hand and pressed his body to her leg.
“I didn’t like the present, Hunter,” Alexis mumbled.
I looked down at his shaggy head. “I think my dog might be in love with you. And grounded,” I muttered. “He’s definitely grounded.”
She laughed dryly.
I shook my head. “What is his problem? He does not listen. I can’t even get him to sit half the time. I mean, I know hunting breeds are stubborn, but Jesus.”
“He’s deaf.”
I stared at her. “What?”
“He’s deaf, Daniel. Maybe not totally, but—mostly.” I blinked at her. “Wha—how do you know?”
She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Watching? When you give him hand signals, he obeys. When you talk, he ignores you.”
I looked down at my dog. “Hunter, sit.” He looked up at me with his blank face. “Sit, Hunter,” I said again.
Nothing.
I put an index finger up in the hand signal for sit. Hunter sat.
“Oh, wow,” I breathed. “This clears up so much,” I said in wonder. She laughed weakly.
I dragged a hand down my beard. “Probably from the shooting. They shoot over the dog’s head. That’s probably why they retired him, he can’t hear.”
“So he’s a good boy after all,” she said, somewhat tiredly.
“All dogs are good boys,” I said. “Even this one.” I took one more look at the dining room and blew a breath through my lips. “I’ll have breakfast out again in fifteen minutes. Can you let them know?”
“Yeah. Are their rooms haunted?” I laughed. “What?”
“Did you give them haunted rooms? If not, can we maybe do a seance? Summon some demons? Because I wouldn’t be upset if a closet opened up on them and blood poured out.”
“Are you mad at them?” I asked.
“I’m a little irritated with them, yeah.”
“I hear Doug sang them ‘More Than Words’ last night,” I said. “That’s not enough punishment?”
“Nope.”
“I heard what they said about Jane’s,” I said. “Doreen makes everything from scratch there. It’s her grandmother’s recipes. It sucks they didn’t like it.”
“I’m beginning to think they don’t like anything,” she mumbled.
I was laughing at this when we heard shrieks from outside. Alexis and I made split-second eye contact before I ran to the window and squinted at the yard. “What the hell…”
“What is it?” Alexis asked, coming up behind me. “I think it’s…acorns?”
Jessica and Gabby were running to the front door, their hands over their heads trying to block the onslaught. The oak trees lining the driveway were dropping acorns like hail—which was weird because they didn’t do that until the fall…
I opened the front door to let them in, and as soon as they crossed the threshold, the deluge outside abruptly ceased.
“Unbelievable,” Jessica said angrily. She had red welts on her bare arms.
Gabby was pulling acorns from her hair.
Alexis blinked at them in shock. “What happened?” “The fucking trees!” Jessica snapped.
I went outside and jogged down the stairs. I stopped under the first oak and picked up one of the projectiles.
Acorn.
So weird…I turned it around in my fingers. I looked up at the tree, shading my eyes. I didn’t see any on the branches. Maybe they all fell? But they don’t drop until September. And when they do, they sure as hell don’t drop like this. Maybe a squirrel’s nest got knocked over or something?
I turned around, looking at the mess. There must have been a thousand acorns on the lawn.
Alexis came outside a moment later, looking weary. “They’re just going to go eat at Jane’s and then rent bikes.”
I blinked at her. “Oh. They don’t want breakfast?” “Not here,” she said glumly.
My stomach dropped.
This wasn’t how I wanted this weekend to go. Not for my guests, not for me, and especially not for Alexis. I wanted to impress her.
I dragged a hand through my hair. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how today got so messed up.”
“It’s okay,” she said, sliding her hands into her pockets. “When will you be back?” I asked.
“I’m not going.”
I wrinkled my forehead. “You’re not going with your friends?”
“I’m not very happy with them right now. I’m going to stay and help you clean up.”
I was happy I was getting time with her, but I shook my head. “You don’t have to do that.”
“I want to. I can do the sweeper thingy.” “The broom?” I looked at her, amused.
Her cheeks got a little pink. “Yeah. That’s what I meant.” I studied her for a second. “Do you know how to sweep?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear and looked away from me. “I…I don’t clean my own house, Daniel. I’ve never done it before.”
“You’ve never cleaned?”
She looked embarrassed. “No. Not really. No.” I blinked at her.
“I mean, I load the dishwasher. I put clothes in the laundry basket—” “Can you do laundry?”
She paused a moment before shaking her head.
I don’t know why, but this made me feel about two hundred thousand times better.
She crossed her arms. “Don’t make fun of me—” “I’m not.”
“You’re smiling.”
“I’m smiling because this entire weekend has made me feel like I suck at everything and it’s nice to know that maybe you suck at things too.”
She snorted. “Daniel, you’re good at everything. Trust me.” “Yeah, well, sex stuff doesn’t count.”
“Uh, it actually does. And I’m not just talking about sex stuff. Your woodworking, your cooking.”
Those things didn’t really feel equal to a medical degree, but I’d take them. At this point I needed all the help I could get.
“You don’t have to clean,” I said. “Just hang out with me.”
But she shook her head. “I want to help. Would you show me?” I smiled. “Sure.”
