Fidget creeps down the stairs, tail tucked between her legs, sees me, and immediately comes to beg for treats.
“Do you want some cheese?” I pet her ears under the cone. She pads after me into the living room, where I pour a fresh scotch and watch Winnie and her family through the open doorway to the hallway.
“Mom—” Winnie stands on the bottom step. “I told you I’m not dating the neighbor’s son.”
“When Kathy was out on her date, I wanted you to have someone as well. Your dad and I didn’t want you to feel left out, and you never know, you might find love.” Her mother tucks Winnie’s hair back in its clip.
“Maybe Fitz has another brother,” Frances suggests.
Winnie will date one of my brothers over my dead body.
“It’s okay if he doesn’t have money, Winnie,” her mom is telling her. “You’re at the point in your life where you can support a dependent or three.”
“True dat. I was at Kathy’s coloring-book night at the Brew & Browse. You’re poppin’.” Winnie’s granny flashes a hiphop sign.
“Now, Logan is a very nice young man. Do you have a safety pin, Frances? This blouse is gaping.”
Winnie pulls the emerald-green blouse that’s gaping at the chest closed.
“It really is rough out there in the dating world. Just try, Winnie.” Now her dad’s coaxing her.
“No.” Her voice gets louder as she comes into the living room. “I’m sorry, but you’re not staying for dinner.”
“Winnie,” her mom gasps. “Now, Logan, of course you’re—where is Logan?”
They look around, confused.
Winnie’s face screws up when she sees me still there.
“He left. Said he had a family emergency. Very tragic.” I sip my drink.
“I hope Mrs. Miller is okay.”
“I hope that house burned down. She’s feeding raccoons hot dogs, cat food, and cookies,” Granny Frances complains. “Tanking our property values.”
“Myproperty values,” Winnie murmurs.
“Now, look, I got some bad news.” Mark comes back in, wringing his hands.
“Dad, you were supposed to get Kathy ready.” Winnie’s exasperated.
“She’s still getting over her breakup, my poor little girl.” He dabs his eyes.
“You’re too soft on her, Dad,” Winnie says. “And Fitz came all this way for her.”
Mm, for Winnie, but sure.
“You can take my other daughter.” Mark grabs Winnie.
“What? No!”
“What a wonderful idea. It’s fate,” her mother declares. “Winnie, go put on some shapewear. And don’t drink so much at dinner—you want to impress your sexy date.”
“Mom, I’m not going on a date with him.” Winnie turns to me. “I’m very sorry about this. Can we reschedule?”
I give her my slowest, laziest blink. “Do you have any idea how much my time is worth, Creampuff?”
“Why don’t we”—her mom claps her hands—“all have dinner here?”
