* * *
The pizza topping negotiation had been brutal as Danny finally discovered the inevitable flaw in the almost-perfection that was Kenzie Pelletier.
She liked mushrooms on her pizza.
No, not just liked them.Insistedon them.
“While I might not be the resident expert on pizza delivery,” she said, “I do know you can get mushrooms on just half of the pizza.”
“Mushrooms are a fungus and you know what a fungus does? Itspreads.” He held up his cell phone. “Ask anybody in my family—except Aunt Keri, actually—and they’ll tell you that mushrooms are a fungus that spread to the other half. They slide over under the cheese, and you think you’re safe and then—bam!—a mouthful of slimy fungus.”
“So what I’m hearing is that your aunt is a reasonable person?”
“Yes, but Aunt Keri’s a Kowalski by marriage, so—” He stopped, frowning. “Wait, that didn’t come out right. Kowalskis are very reasonable people…usually. Sometimes. We just don’t like mushrooms. So whenever the family’s together and we get pizza, she always gets a small one of her own so hers can’t infect the rest with fungus.”
He had to wait while Kenzie lost the battle not to laugh at him. While mushrooms actually were a hard pass for him, he was deliberately being a little dramatic about it just because it amused her, so he was happy to keep it going.
“Okay, look,” she said, once her laughing fit passed. “It doesn’t make sense to get two pizza, even two small ones. I’ll personally inspect your half for rogue mushrooms.”
“I’ve heard that before.” He shook his head. “That’s the whole point of fungi. They get under the cheese.”
In the end, he ordered two small pizzas—one a meat lover’s and the other with sausage and mushrooms—and added an order of the cheesy garlic knots that were both too much and irresistible at the same time.
When he asked if she wanted him to add a salad to the order—something his mother always did—she laughed at him, helping restore some of the faith he’d lost in her during the mushroom debacle. There was no reason to involve lettuce in a pizza night.
They got the back porch ready while they waited for the pizza. Danny moved the larger table from in front of the cushioned love seat to be within reach of the chairs. Then he put his side table in between them to set their drinks on. It also gave him a reason to move the chairs closer together when she wasn’t looking.
Paper plates and some napkins went on the coffee table, and he filled an insulated carafe with ice water. After checking with her, he opened a bottle of beer for each of them. Then he grabbed a knife in case they didn’t cut through the slices all the way, and the salt and pepper shakers.
When Kenzie’s phone chimed, he watched her pick it up from the table, and she sighed when she looked at the screen, but her mouth curved into a smile. After typing a response, she set it face down on the table.
“Rhylee,” she said, even though he hadn’t asked.
“If you didn’t respond, how much time do you think she’d let go by before she called 9-1-1?”
She laughed, shaking her head. “If she didn’t see the dots that I’m typing, she’d probably send a question mark demanding an answer before two minutes were up. Then, a few minutes later, she’d call. If I didn’t answer, she’d start getting anxious. Not answering a second call would have her texting Aunt Karen. My aunt doesn’t really pay attention to true crime at all, so she’d assume I’m busy and talk Rhylee down.”
“It’s good to have people watching out for you. But instead of involving your aunt, she could call the campground and make Rob text me.”
She frowned. “Okay, but if you’d put me in your padlocked garden shed, you would lie. Plus Rob would totally cover for you.”
Danny laughed, loving the reminder she could spot a plot hole so easily. “Hannah’s a wild card, though.”
“Hannah’s my friend. She’d want answers.”
“But she’s going to be my sister-in-law,” he pointed out. “Definitely a wild card.”
When the pizza arrived, he carried the boxes to the back porch and set them side by side. After opening the lids—making sure to give an exaggerated shudder at the sight of the mushrooms to make her laugh—he served them each a slice and settled into his chair.
Over the course of the meal, they talked about everything from their favorite songs in middle school—they didnotlike the same music—to their general worldviews, which thankfully aligned. Danny had to field a text message from Rob, accusing him of stealing all the sticky notes, which he had not done. He bought them in bulk, and the ones he bought had better sticking power. Maybe he was a sticky note snob, but Danny didn’t use the ones Rob bought.
And Kenzie was betrayed by her fungus when a mushroom that had weaseled under the cheese fell and splashed pizza sauce on her sweater. He almost choked on the bite of garlic knot he’d just taken, and when she reached for him, concerned, more sauce fell onto her sweater.
He survived, though they both laughed so hard she had to put down her slice to dab at her eyes—and her sweater—with a napkin.
Once they were done, he closed the pizza boxes and stuck them in the fridge. They’d demolished the garlic knots, which was good because the last time he’d gotten them, he’d ended up thinking about them instead of sleeping and then he finished them off at two in the morning. Not one of his healthier choices.
“Okay, I’m going to go change and try to rinse the worst of this out of my sweater,” Kenzie said when he returned with a refilled water carafe.
