Labrador for Love

*

Geraint

*

I don't think I'm a terrible looking guy. I mean, I don't think I'm exceptionally handsome, certainly no young Brad Pitt or George Clooney, but I'm far from a Steve Buscemi.

I've been told I was handsome even. Starting with my mother, even when I was a pimply, gangly and awkward teenager. Of course that's Mom, and she has to say that because she's my mother. Even when at the same time she wanted to kill me because of some heinous thing I had done, like pulling a prank on my sister or breaking her favorite lamp while roughhousing in the living room. I do look back on it now and I was a pretty shitty teenager, so to make up for it, I call her once or twice a week and let her know that I love her.

Others have told me I was handsome, including all the girls I had relationships with at one time or another. Yet if that was true, the attribute didn't mean much once all was said and done. Worthless currency in the long-game of love.

A game that I was an abject failure at.

Not that I didn't try.

To put it simply, I want to be loved. I like a woman's touch. Intimacy with a woman whom I love is the greatest feeling in the world.

Only I'm desperate for it to be reciprocated. For the long run. Trite, I know, but until death does us part.

All that I really know is that there is no depth to the misery and sadness that comes from unrequited love.

It has been my experience that being loved is temporary. Yet I'm surrounded by examples of where it isn't. My grandparents, my parents, and now even my sister and her husband all know what that feels like to have a 'Happy Ever After', a 'soul mate' for life.

While I'm on the outside looking in.

Like I said, I've tried. Enthusiastically even. At times some of the happiest moments in my life. Right up until the inevitable and painful crash and burn. None of which I handled well at all.

The thing is, I had truthfully loved them all.

Mom says that I wear my heart on my sleeve and promises me that someday I'll find the one, that my time will come. My sister simply says that I'm cursed.

Dad would say, "Geraint, never look back, only forward." I'm not good at that kind of thing. Sometimes when I'm sitting in my home and that familiar feeling of loneliness wafts through like a cruel breeze, how can I not look back and wonder how everything went wrong.

Darlene. College girlfriend for three years. She was really special and I loved every minute with her right up until graduation when in our caps and gowns, both sets of parents were taking our pictures after the ceremony. She leaned in, and instead of a kiss, she put out her arm to shake my hand and say, "It's been nice. Have a great life," before walking out of my world for good. I didn't see it coming. I was stunned.

Sarah. We dated for a year until we moved in together. She liked to party and was a little wild, but at other times she was calm and could be vulnerable, we had some great loving moments. Right up until I came home from work to find her gone, having not only taken all of her stuff with her, but all my stuff too.

Janet. She loved sex. Was crazy about it. It was quite incredible and I had a smile on my face for our entire duration. Until the nuke detonated when I found out she liked it so much that she would do it with anyone behind my back. I didn't just lose a girlfriend when I found out, I lost most of my friends along with it. Disaster.

Biyu. This was the one. She meant everything to me and I really felt that she loved me too. Only she lied to me about her family and had lied to her family too. Her father found out about us and it led to a surprise confrontation. The two of them, a lot of heated, angry words at each other in a language I didn't understand, she finally turned to me with tears running down her cheeks and let me know that she would disgrace her father if she didn't marry Chinese. Poof. I never saw her again.

April. Things were great. Really great. Until she suddenly ghosted me after being together for two years. I wouldn't know where she disappeared to until two years later when I saw her on the news. Some reporter had identified her as a local senator's fuck toy, which didn't make his wife very happy, and the scandal ruined everyone involved. Except for the reporter, of course. I was tempted to contact that smart guy to see if he could uncover my engagement ring that she disappeared with when she left me.

June. While we were seeing each other and getting serious, she reconnected with her roommate from college. Soon after she let me know that she was leaving me for the woman as old feelings had resurfaced. I decided to stop dating women named after pages in the calendar.

Damini. Being more careful, I tried to take this one slow. With mixed results. It didn't dawn on me until later that we only physically saw each other on Friday nights. Our pattern developed quickly: out for a nice dinner, my place, sensual make out session, intense lovemaking, and then she'd sleep over, morning sex in the shower and then she'd leave. Of all of them, I sort of saw this one coming, but ignored my gut. I got a text from her, copying two unknown numbers, "Sorry. The agreement of an open marriage between me and my husband has come to an end so we can start a family. I'm going to remove my IUD and this is a heartfelt goodbye to my Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday night lovers." I am so fucking clueless.

And finally, Gillian. Aww, Gillian. Petite, shy, demure, kind, and thoughtful. Not real smart, not real pretty, but a lot of good qualities more than made up for that. I vetted her carefully, trying to be sly about it. She was from a good loving family. Wasn't married and never had been. Seemingly no ghosts in her closet. Still a virgin at age 30, and wouldn't sleep with me until after we had wed. So she was virtuous. I could live with that having known how awful the alternative is. Finally, I felt good about my future. Until she started showing. And it sure as hell wasn't mine.

I sure can pick them.

So, there. It had become official. I was broken.

I'm sure I had culpability along the way. I'm certainly not perfect. Maybe I tried too hard. Or maybe not enough. Dad said not to look back, but even when I did, I don't understand what happened. But I tried to. So my neck was permanently pointing my face in the ass direction.

I was done. Finished. There would be no more dating. No more women at all.

*

The world made things a little easier for me to keep my promise to myself when a global virus sent everyone home. Now it wasn't just me that was lonely.

Then, after some time, vaccines, and boosters, it seemed safe to go back into the world. Except that mine had changed. My employers realized how much money they'd save by keeping us working from home, so the Return To The Office march was put on hold. And I don't believe that will ever be lifted.

I didn't do myself any favors by getting my sustenance from food delivery apps and having everything else under the sun come from Amazon. At one point I realized that I had gone 9 straight weeks without being in the presence of a living, breathing human body.

I took up jogging to get me out of the house.

It didn't help. I was so fucking lonely that as I ran, I'd make up things about people I passed by on the sidewalk and in my head, pretend they were my friends. Pathetic.

It wasn't that I didn't have any human interaction at all. My laptop put my face and up to 8 colleagues at a time on a 9-box grid for virtual meetings. It was always, and still is, awkward for me. I'd forget to un-mute when I wanted to add something to our discussion, or I'd bump the USB camera and not notice, one time forcing everyone on the call to have to look at my adams-apple while I droned on about something or another.

I became notorious for discovering new ways to embarrass myself on camera. I did, at least, wear pants to every such meeting.

Then, one day, I was out running when my life changed forever following a single event. That single event was something that came with a lot of pain too, but the revelation would be monumental. I tripped and fell to the sidewalk over a dog.

See, I wasn't really paying enough attention, and the dog was just a puppy and a little bit of a spaz. I barely registered it on the sidewalk when we crossed paths. The dog was wearing a little vest that indicated it was a service dog in training while on a leash and being walked by a middle aged woman. Well, I zigged, the dog zagged and next thing I knew, it was underfoot and then I was on the ground.

The woman apologized to me profusely, asking if I was alright. I was just hoping I didn't hurt the puppy which let me know that it was alright by giving my face a tongue wash. The more I tried to hold the pup away from my face, the spaz in it went into overdrive. As I was at eye level with it, being on the ground and all, the dog zeroed in on my face with its kisses.

I actually felt that the dog was, in its own way, trying to apologize to me for taking me down.

I finally managed to get up and make it to my feet where the woman rained more apologies on me. I finally got her convinced I was OK, well, I was going to bruise, that's for sure, but nothing was broken or bloody.

I bent down and gave some scratches behind the soft fuzzy ears of the puppy, getting a good look at it. Sure was cute. I asked, "I know this little one is a black labrador, but his nose is blunter and it looks different than my lab when I was growing up. Is it mixed with something?"

She responded with a smile, "Your lab was probably an American field lab, this one is an English lab. Better temperament to assist someone living life from a wheelchair. Although... this one, I just don't know. Should be calmer. This one might not make it through the program if it doesn't settle down."

Damn, was it ever cute.

Then the idea hit me. Hard. I'll cure my loneliness with a dog!

*

In my mind, I would sometimes be critical of people and their dogs. No, strike that. I am frequently critical. Things like when I would see a dog pulling on its leash, which should never happen, I blame the human. That human missed getting trained how to teach a dog how to be walked. Or the jerks that would allow their dogs to poop on mine and my neighbor's little tiny patch of grass all of the condos in my development have.

That's not why I didn't have a dog at the time, in fact I love dogs. It's just that when my labrador passed away when he was 14, just before I went off to college, it hurt deeply. I never wanted to go through something like that again.

Yet having a friend that loved me unconditionally, a friend that needed me and I could take care of, that was what was missing in my life. I probably wasn't thinking rationally, maybe I hit the sidewalk a little harder than my array of bruises showed after all. Only it seemed like a stroke of genius at the moment.

My timing was terrible. The post COVID animal shelters were nearly bone dry, and I really didn't want to bring home a little yappy dog. I brought the subject up to one of my dog-nut colleagues at work (online, of course), and he confirmed my problem. He said his wife even drove 6 hours out of state to pick up a dog, sight unseen.

For a nanosecond of a moment, I looked towards puppy breeders, but they all left me with a bad taste in my mouth. There was a reputation I carried from my youth about the horrors of puppy mills, and so I abandoned looking in that direction rather quickly.

Then I remembered the vest on the puppy that tripped me up. I made a visit to the organization whose training facility was a short drive from home.

I talked to a couple of women working the front office of the building, while the sounds of dogs barking echoed down the hallways. I asked about how to get a dog, they practically laughed me out of the building. The answer was, not from them. They explained that thousands of dollars went into breeding and training each one, after all, they were a non-profit that specialized in recipients being confined to a wheelchair. Their dogs were special. Destined for holding an important job.

I was crestfallen.

I mean, I should have known. I did know, really. It was just that desperation called for a Hail Mary, and honestly, I didn't have anything to lose.

Then who should walk into the lobby and towards a side office but the woman whose puppy tripped me up. She stopped in her tracks and we formally introduced each other, her name was Barbara. Turns out she was a director at the organization and invited me into her office to sit down.

In the corner was an older looking black labrador curled up in a doggy bed who lifted up its head, sniffed the air, and went back to its nap. "That's Watson," she told me. "Retired."

Then Barbara wove her fingers together and sat up straight, "Let me guess. You came looking to get one of our dogs."

I sighed in a show of embarrassment then went over my story from the start of my epiphany after falling to the sidewalk and all I had been through since to find a friend. She then repeated what the ladies had told me in the front office.

"I get it," I told her, "I'm sorry I wasted your time, I really am. I knew this was a longshot, but do you ever get dogs that flunk or muster out of the program?"

"We do," she responded kindly. "We call it a 'career change' though. We find good families to put them into, people who have trained these dogs before, they're all experienced handlers. They're in high demand, as you can understand."

"I do. I totally get that. So what about this? I take the training and get certified," yeah, I had looked that up, "and I become part of your cadre of trainers?"

She got a sympathetic look, "You'd really want to do that? You do understand that you would get a puppy, go through all the hard work of potty training and teaching about 25 commands, then give them up for professional training at 15 months where you probably will never see them again. Then repeat. I've been doing this since I was 16 and the puppy you tripped over, was my magic number 20. I've had 15 make it all the way through to find a recipient match, and 5 got career changes. Either way, I cried my eyes out after each time giving up one of my charges. I look at them all like the children I never had. It's not easy, but it is harder not getting attached."

I actually did know that. And it was neither what I was looking for nor would it be good for my emotional constitution.

I was once again crestfallen. Fuck.

Barbara's tone changed and she got a wistful kind of look when she asked, "Um, Geraint. That's an unusual name."

I responded, still bummed over striking out, "Uh, yeah. It's Welsh."

"Um, yeah. I know. It literally means 'old man'."

That was a surprise, "Yeah, I know. How do you know that?"

"Well. I looked it up once."

I was getting suspicious, "Why would you do that?"

"I don't think you're going to like my answer."

"Try me."

She gave me a huge sigh and looked very uneasy, "Are you familiar with a Gillian Taylor?"

I froze. My last girlfriend, the virgin with the unexplained pregnancy.

I didn't answer right away, I don't think I could have. My lazer beam look confirmed it anyway.

Barbara hesitated and then sort of beat around the bush, "Well. I was, um, I was unfortunately present when she had a full on meltdown after.... "

I pursed my lips, nodded my head, folded my arms and just stared at the floor. I think it was time to leave.

She asked, "Do you want to know what became of her?"

I made eye contact but felt sort of numb, "No. I don't think I do."

"Fair enough."

She got up from her desk quickly while I tried to process it all, and she went to the door, opening it half way. She asked someone out of my view in the front office, "Do we still have that female that Kathy Kearey brought in?"

I heard a voice from within, "You mean, Lacey? Yeah, we do."

"Good, good. Would you bring Lacey in here, please?" Barbara turned to me and gave me a smile, "Geraint, there's someone very special that I'd like you to meet."

*

I met Lacey. She was a beautiful dog. Happy to meet me, like most labs I've ever met, they're the friendliest of all creatures. Full of enthusiasm, and poured love on me while I got my face licked as I scratched her behind soft ears before she went to the ground, rolling over to get a belly rub.

I was taken by her immediately.

Then I got the lecture from Barbara who morphed into all business and displayed an edge of toughness.

First things first, Barbara would audit my home. I have no idea what she'd be specifically looking for but it had to satisfy her in that it was suitable for Lacey.

Next, I had to make a donation to the non-profit, and it wasn't going to be cheap. Like coughing up a kidney. I was reminded that it would at least have some tax benefits.

I would be required to bring Lacey back into the organization's HQ in 6 months, bringing papers from one of their approved veterinarians. Paid for on my dime. The vet's papers were required to prove that Lacey's weight had been reasonably unchanged, that she was healthy and well cared for. Barbara would personally review Lacey's 'commands' (I was warned to never call them 'dog tricks'), and that the dog would have to go through the top 10 without hesitation. I was to also teach her a command of my choice, to keep her mind sharp, but not one of the 25 she already knew.

If Lacey and I met all the requirements, I would be able to keep her until death do us part. A specimen like her could make it to age 16, but with an unhealthy diet and/or a lack of proper exercise, she'd be lucky to make it to 10. She was currently 18 months, technically not much more than a puppy for this breed.

I went home and eagerly awaited the audit which was scheduled for Friday.

I couldn't wait and bet on getting approved by going down to the pet store and buying everything I could think of and even things she probably wouldn't need. I spent a fortune.

I did keep the receipts.

And then on Friday, I passed the audit.

I knew Lacey was a gift of mercy from Barbara, but do I risk the pun? She threw me a bone.

Doesn't matter.

I got the dog.

*

I asked Barbera at one time, "Why? What changed your mind?"

As her story went, Barbera was a friend of Gillian's older sister. The day I finally got a clue, and after our emotional confrontation before I left her in disgust and disappointment, Gillian went to her sister and laid it all out in an emotional dump leading to a 'meltdown'. Barbara just happened to be there when that went down.

OK, that's the edge that made Barbara want to help me.

The Lacey side of things came with its own drama. For whatever reason, Lacey developed a fear of checkered flooring. I know, I was confused too at first, but the explanation made sense.

Barbara said solemnly, "So, imagine Lacey is leading a paraplegic into a grocery store and that establishment has black and white checkered linoleum or tile or whatever on the floor. Lacey will lock up and then both of them are stuck. It seems so trivial but that is a catastrophic situation for both. Lacey just can't continue in the program."

"Wow," I responded, "I wouldn't have thought that possible."

"Dogs are individuals and can be unique like that. We had a service dog that was deathly afraid of squirrels. After matching with a young woman who suffered a neck injury, the dog came across a squirrel in a park and bolted, toppling over the wheelchair in the process of running away. It was terrible."

I learned the nuances and incredibility of what this organization and these awesome dogs faced on a regular basis.

Looking at Lacey, I felt like she was relieved to avoid the job in lieu of being my friend.

I couldn't complain either. We gelled instantly.

We got to know each other, I got trained over three consecutive Tuesday nights at the training facility, and as expected, with Lacey doing an assist in all the exercises. At home, we practiced the commands several times a day and we became the best of friends.

We crushed our requirements at the 6-month mark. Contract fulfilled, she was mine for the duration and life went on.

Only better than ever.

Wholly uncomplicated.

*

I ended one meeting with a click of a mouse button and started another. It would be my fourth back to back 30-minute online meeting of the day, which was not unusual. Only when I started the latest, I didn't even know who it was with or what it was about. This work from home bullshit filled my calendar with endless, and mostly useless meetings which all blurred together.

To my surprise, my screen opened to the live video feed of a very attractive young woman.

"Hi," she said, which was all she'd get out before Lacey jumped into my lap and licked the screen. All the while her wagging tail whipping me in the ribs.

"No! Lacey! Down!" She turned and licked my face before jumping out of frame.

The young, attractive woman on screen was unhinged in laughter. It took her a while to settle down but finally wiped the tears from her eyes. "I heard about your dog but didn't expect it quite like that." Then she went into another fit of laughter.

I let her calm some before, "I know. She's too much sometimes. I've never known a bigger ham for the camera."

"Well, Lacey is one good lookin' dog. That's for sure."

"Thanks! Um, what were we scheduled to talk about?"

"Oh! I'm Kelsea. The new New Product Test Lab Manager. I started just last week and Bob, my VP suggested I introduce myself with a 1:1 as you are the most senior Senior Project Manager, and I also understand you are working on a project for a special adhesive. That new product will eventually end up in my lab for testing, right?"

"It sure will. Great. Welcome aboard."

She beamed a smile at me through the camera and her eyes almost disappeared, drawing attention to the cutest of dimples that appeared.

For just a second I felt guilty for almost perving on someone so young. I then remembered I have no business to perv over anyone, I was done with women. It did make me wonder though, how did someone so young walk into management, and especially, our test laboratory. A critical element of our business.

I shook myself clear of those thoughts and got down to business. "Kelsea, I'm going to share my screen. Here is the schedule and where we're at... "

For the next 25 minutes I went over the good, the bad, and the ugly of the project so far, the challenges we'd overcome and the ones we still had to face. Which included a lot of testing and I went over the battery of tests we'd need the product to survive, listing pass-fail criteria.

She seemed to be taking voracious notes until she looked up and started laughing.

"What's so funny?" I asked her.

She pointed out, "It's your silly dog. She's running in her sleep."

I looked over my shoulder and sure enough, Lacy was in the background on the couch laying on her back, paws to the ceiling which were twitching. I myself chuckled, that never gets old for me.

I explained, "Yeah, she's a dreamer and when she dreams, she often runs like that."

"That's cute," she responded with a grin.

Funny that Kelsea used that word, because the woman on my screen with the pretty face, that smile, and those attentive eyes, she was the epitome of cute.

I did everything I could to not melt out of my chair and form a puddle.

*

*

Kelsea

*

Technically, I was tagged as 'hybrid'. I would come into the office, situated in the Test Lab on Mondays, usually for the whole day, and then Wednesday and Friday mornings with my afternoons back at home. In the building, I would meet in person with my technicians, who were not hybrid, doing hands-on lab work 8 to 5 every day of the week. While the rest of my time was meetings (of the online variety), paperwork and reports which I was encouraged/ordered to all do from home.

It was weird going into the office because except for my laboratory technicians, the building was empty of people. Due to the timing of when I was hired, I had never seen the building fully staffed as it was before. Or at least the way my veteran techs described it. It was all made weirder because in the parts of the building filled with empty cubicles, it looked like there had been a mass evacuation, office supplies and equipment laying there spread out as if the desk chairs were still warm.

Just plain weird.

That wasn't the only thing that was weird. When I'd enter one of my regularly scheduled status meetings in the 9-box, my colleagues, whom I had gradually memorized all of their names over the last six months, I had never met face to face. In person. I only knew these people through their cameras being broadcast to my screen.

I would still chuckle from time to time over the 9-box itself. It reminded me of watching TV with my Grandma when I was younger, she would only watch the game-show cable network, and one of her favorites was The Hollywood Squares. Whenever one of my colleagues would make a snarky comment in the 9-box, it was everything I could do to not fall out of my chair laughing.

The one that did it most for me was Geraint. He had a delightful sense of humor, and used it liberally but still managed to remain professional. He was smart about it too. I mean, he was a smart guy anyway, but when there was bad news or tense moments when the team couldn't agree on something, Geraint would diffuse the situation with humor and had the ability to calm everyone down and then steer the group to an agreeable compromise. He was really quite brilliant.

I found most of my regularly scheduled meetings to be boring and more often than not, a total waste of time. Only I did look forward to any meeting that Geraint was also scheduled in.

I had to ask myself why that was. It had sort of snuck up on me and, because of my nature, had me analyzing how that came about and what was overcoming me.

It started with Geraint's dog, Lacey. Every online meeting that Geraint was in started with Lacy jumping in his lap and licking the screen, with Geraint getting a smooch in the process of him regaining control to get her down. It was funny and I looked forward to it every time.

I wasn't the only one that thought so. Lacey worked great as an ice breaker and chuckles came from every spot on the 9-box except for Geraint's.

The next thing was completely superficial in my normal laws of attraction. He was incredibly handsome. Gorgeous.

And so very manly.

Which is usually not my type. I typically went for nerds. A big brain being my greatest turn on.

I was a nerd myself, I acknowledge that. Not great at small talk or normal and casual conversation, it was easier to fall back on the technical. I could speak to that all day and not break a sweat.

What that made me, in any social situation, was just plain awkward. Nobody wants to date that. And I bored more men than I ever got excited. There were not a lot of second dates.

The few that I did invite to my bed, didn't stay for breakfast.

But, oh! Doing the dirty with Geraint? That would really be something. I could picture him holding me in the dark, his hands all over me. I get squishy just thinking about it.

What I didn't expect was getting called out on it. Subsequently signing off after one of Geraint's project updates 9-box meeting, the software started to ping me, indicating that Mary from Logistics was trying to reach me.

I put my hair back into a ponytail before clicking the 'accept' button, and Mary's face filled my screen. She studied my own image and sort of narrowed her eyes, wearing a smirk.

"Hello, Mary. What's up?" I asked, masking my curiosity. It was unprecedented for Mary to call me and she had just attended Geraint's meeting with me and the rest of that team.

She still wore the smirk, "Hello, Kelsea. I should be asking what's up with you?"

"Oh, you know. Busy, busy."

"That's not exactly what I was asking. What's up with you and your crushing on Geraint?"

I had a mini panic attack and I'm sure my expression said so, "Wha...? No. I don't have a crush on Geraint."

"Really?" She asked. More like an accusation. "Kelsea, I'm in how many different team meetings with you every week?"

"Um. Five, I think."

"Yes. Five. Only two of them include Geraint. In every meeting except those two, you have your hair up in a ponytail, just like you do now, except for those two with your dream-boy. In those, you let your hair down, get a wistful look on your face, and twirl a lock of your hair with your fingers. You couldn't be lusting after any of the other crusty idiots in those meetings, so you're crushing on Geraint. Try and tell me that you aren't."

I just couldn't lie. I'm terrible at it and would make this situation worse. There was no way out for me.

I sighed and admitted it without really saying everything, "He is kind of great."

She smiled victoriously, "Yes. He definitely is. I've known him for ten years, we were both hired within a month of each other."

Then we awkwardly stared at each other until Mary broke the silence, "Well?"

"Well what?" I replied, knowing full well what she was after.

"Are you going to do anything about it?"

"Of course not!"

"Why not?"

I felt cornered and now more than a little pissed off. She sensed it.

She took on a sympathetic tone, "Listen, I don't mean to get up into your business. Just understand that Geraint really is a great guy, and he is well liked around here. And we like you too, you've been a great addition to the team. So who knows, you two might be good for each other. He's... he's, um, how do I put this? Well. From the little I do know about his love life, it's been sort of a downer. Maybe you could turn things around."

*

I chastised myself, first for my growing feelings for a man I've never met in person, and secondly for accidentally telegraphing them.

I wasn't sure how much I could trust Mary, but there was nothing I could do there.

What I could do is tamp down whatever it was that I was feeling. There would be no way that I would ever date a colleague. He didn't seem interested in me anyway and even if he did, once he got to know me on a personal level, he'd run like crazy.

And what about basic common sense? I don't even know him outside of an online meeting. He could be a jerk.

So there. The hair tie would remain fixed and the ponytail would be a solid fixture. Geraint would remain a simple square in my 9-box.

If only my dream state had gotten the memo and stopped sending me erotic dreams at night of Geraint and his hands. His lips with little kisses all over me. His... his... oh, my!

*

Weeks went by and I kept locked in on my resolve.

Then one day, my senior lab tech was going over some of his findings and something jumped out at me. Outstanding and unexpected results. I decided that Geraint should see this.

I called him with the 9-box and he picked up on the first simulated ring, answering with a smile. "Hello, Kelsea."

I wonder if he could see me blushing on camera. "Hello, Geraint." Lacey jumped into his lap and I got the usual show. When he finally got her under control and my giggling stopped, I asked, "Hey, I hope this isn't a bad time, calling you out of the blue like this."

"No, actually you got me right in between meetings, so good timing."

"Great! Um. I was wondering if I could talk you into coming into the office. I have something to show you in the lab."

He dropped his smile and looked at me suspiciously, "Uh, oh."

I smiled at that reaction, "No, no, no. It's good news. I swear."

"I love good news. When's a good time?"

"Tomorrow? Your calendar looks free first thing in the morning. I'll even share some of our famous Test Lab coffee with you."

"Yeah, that sound's good. I'll block the time in my calendar. Wait. I didn't think you went into the lab on Tuesdays."

"For this, I'll make an exception. I really want you to see this."

"OK. It's been forever-and-a-day since I've been in the building. I look forward to it. See you at 8-ish then."

I could feel myself beaming as he signed off.

Then the doubt started to creep in. Hard. Why did I ask him to come in? I could have just told him the news and shown him the data. What will my management do if they don't approve that I asked Geraint to come in? How very bad could this all go? Would he be upset with me?

The last thing bothered me the most. Only... when I think about it, I've never seen him upset in any of the meetings, even in the face of really bad news.

I needn't have worried. He was all smiles when he showed up at my office door at eight on the dot. I got up from my desk and stood before him where he towered over me, he had to be over six feet while I top out at only 5'4". Never mind that, oh, God, he was even more handsome in person.

We shook hands while he greeted me cheekily, "Doctor Livingstone, I presume?"

I took the bait, "Yes. I feel thankful that I am here to welcome you, Stanley."

He got a shocked look on his face, "Well! You are the first to ever reply to that correctly."

I giggled, "I'm full of surprises."

"Indeed you are."

"Seriously though, you should meet my grandparents. You would instantly understand. Because of them, I'm kind of geeky like that."

He laughed, "I think I like them already."

I started feeling flushed. Suddenly overwhelmed, so I hid my emotions by walking him to our coffee maker in the corner of the lab. I informed him as I poured, "The world famous Test Lab coffee, sir."

He sipped and approved before I rambled on about our lab coffee secret.

He then asked, "Are you sure it's safe to drink coffee in here with all the lab activity and things going on in here."

"No. It isn't. Once, it turned me into a newt."

He chuckled and waited for the next line, which I delivered, "I got better."

He practically belly laughed at that and I swear we had a moment just looking into each other's eyes. I should have felt small standing next to him, but the way he looked at me, I felt bigger. Like I was substantial to him at that moment. My tummy flipped.

Then he thought of something and said it out loud, "Damn weird walking through the building. Outside of this lab, it's a ghost town out there. It's been a long time since I've been in, but I got a case of the creeps when I walked through. I had never seen it like that before. Even the motion activated lights clicking on one by one as I walked through... " He simulated a shudder.

I giggled at that, "Well. I've never seen it occupied before, but yeah, I get the creeps too."

At that moment, Garvin stepped up to us and greeted Geraint, "Hey, man. Long time no see."

Geraint shook his hand and enthusiastically returned the greeting, "Garv! It's great to see you. How the hell have you been?"

They made a little small talk, catching up while I suddenly felt like an outsider. These two guys had history that I didn't and couldn't add anything to the conversation so I waited for a break to interject, "Hey, Garvin. Can we go over the findings on the prototype industrial tape adhesive now?"

"Yeah, sure. Come with me." I do like Garvin, my whole team did as well. He was the lead tech when I started and I kept him in that role with zero objections.

Once at the test grid, I took the lead in explaining the good news, "So, the adhesive worked as expected on all the high surface energy polymers. Strong. Very, very strong. It is the low energy substrates that blew us away." I directed his view to the pull test results, the values written next to the samples with a grease pencil.

Geraint's eyes got huge, "No way. What...?"

I proudly responded, "I know, right? Wholly unexpected."

Geraint looked at me and Garvin suspiciously, "You had to have primed the surface then."

I admitted he was right, "Yes. Now for more good news. All we needed was a swipe of acetone."

A smile emerged on Geraint's face until it almost reached his eyes. "Wow. Acetone is approved in California. It's hard to believe that it worked. I would have thought you'd have needed a banned solvent or flame treatment or something exotic and expensive. But, fingernail polish remover? What a breakthrough!"

I took some initiative, "Hey, would you like to take a short break and grab a Danish or bagel in the first floor cafe?"

He responded, not as I had hoped, "Yeah, sure. Let's bring all your guys," of course my entire staff was all men, "I'm buying. Hey Garv, gather up Kelsea's entire team! Let's get some celebratory morning munchies!"

*

Everything was fine. E-v-e-r-y-t-h-i-n-g was fine. I swear.

No it wasn't. Shit. WTF. How in the life of me can I explain that I was falling in love with a man I hardly even knew?!

To the point I lost my rational mind.

It was on a Friday, just after lunch. I was in the 9-box, working at suppressing my yawns after a Dagwood size sandwich I made at home.

The meeting winded down and this one had my VP in attendance who was feeling, um, what? Friendly, social?

He asked, "Anyone have any fun weekend plans?"

The 9-box bounced around, most people planning on working their honey-do lists, but nobody doing anything really special except for the guy from Accounting who was taking off for vacation with his wife to celebrate their 30th in Hawaii.

Geraint had kept silent until he was called out on it. He hardly seemed to notice, talking while polishing up on the meeting minutes he had been taking in his notebook, "Yeah, my usual. Low tide tomorrow is at noon and I'll be taking Lacey to Dog Beach, then we'll get a beer together. After that I have a weekend of old classic movies on the DVR. I recorded Jean Harlow week."

He got a cacophony of teases, "weirdo," "nerd," "goofball," from the 9-box which got his attention.

He responded with mirth, "Hey! Lacey and I haven't been together for 30 years, so this weekend, Hawaii is not going to happen."

That drew some laughter from everyone including his teasers, while Geraint held a mighty smile.

Dog beach. I knew exactly where that was.

Because my only bathing suit looked suitable for a grandma, I went shopping after work in Carlsbad by the coast. It was a humiliating experience, but a hundred dollars later I had a one piece that I think I looked good in. Well. How about just OK in?

I then went home and wrestled with self doubt. Damn, I can be so stupid. Worse is that I know it.

I don't care. I was going to have my first beach day since high school. At low tide. Noon.

*

*

Geraint

*

I praised myself once again when I parked my car. While the rest of the region fought for parking along the coast on the 101, cursing everyone else doing the same thing, I found a space in my usual-sneaky hidden city lot. I didn't even have to look into my nearby backup lot. Sure, it meant I had to take a wicked staircase down to the sand, but so what?

Lacey knew. Whether it was the salt in the air from the sea or the sound of the surf in the distance, she just knew. Dog, energize!

She could hardly contain herself when, on leash, I walked her down to the Pacific. I had to stop a couple of times to reinforce not to pull on the leash. Here, these were the only times she ever did that. Poor thing, I worried throughout that she'd pull a butt muscle, her tail wagging at a higher frequency than a helicopter blade.

We got to the sand and I unclipped the leash from her collar. She took off like a racehorse at the gate. I even quoted out loud from the nearby Del Mar racetrack, the famous, "And away they go!"

She hit the water and then took off down the beach, alternating between the surf and looking for other dog's butts to sniff.

I loosely followed, heading south as usual, with sandals in hand enjoying the feel of beach sand underfoot, keeping an eagle eye on Lacey while she played.

It never gets old.

My reverie was broken with a shout out of my own name. "Hey! Geraint!"

I looked over briefly, saw that it was Kelsea, and then reset my gaze on Lacey, not wanting to lose sight.

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

She responded, "Well, I heard you say yesterday you were going to Dog Beach and I had never met Lacey. I needed some vitamin-D and here I am, killing two birds with one stone. I hope you don't mind."

I chuckled, "No, don't mind at all," but the word 'stalker' did cross my mind. Nah. Couldn't be. She's just being friendly. I must have just put the idea in her head.

I put two fingers at my curled tongue, and made a sharp whistle. Lacey stopped frolicking around at my signal and started running towards me at breakneck speed.

"Prepare for wet dog," I warned Kelsea.

Lacey happily checked in with me, I could feel her gratitude for bringing her to her favorite place on Earth. I introduced her to Kelsea and Lacey went nuts, like, "Yay, friendly human!" Poor Kelsea was covered in wet Black Lab fur almost instantly.

It was when Lacey was going all spaz on Kelsea that I got a good look at my colleague. I have to start with the bathing suit, it was white with light pink flowers, practically see through. As Lacey transferred water from fur to elastane, it got further transparent, like a clear open window to her areolas with proudly standing nipples.

She clearly had no idea, giggling throughout Lacey pouring love on her.

Kelsea had her dark brunette hair down, all frizzy and swept by the wind. So very cute. Exposing her neck, a weakness of mine that made me want to put my lips on it. As well as the rest of her.

Whoa! What was I thinking? I had to tell myself, "Down, down, down. No! Stop it."

"Lacey!" I got her attention. "Go play."

Lacey ran off towards the water while I made an effort to look away when Kelsea got up so as to not perv over some fine attributes that were brightly on display. I went one further, putting my non-dog towel around her shoulders to cover up.

She looked down at herself and immediately understood, "Oops. Um. Thank you."

I nodded in acknowledgment. Lacey started migrating south while frolicking in the surf. I loosely followed. Kelsea kept up with me.

"Hey," she asked, "you said yesterday that you made a point of it being low tide when you came here. Why is that?"

I chuckled, "For Lacey, this beach is like Disneyland to a little kid. Only Lacey has no fear. When the tide is high or even on its way in, she runs out and gets pummeled by the waves. Scares the hell out of me to watch."

We walked and talked.

A very interesting woman, I found out.

Yet still a woman. A very young woman. And I reminded myself I was done with them at any age and in any romantic capacity, so I made an effort to keep things easy, friendly.

My personal interest finally overcame my better judgment.

"So, Kelsea. How is it someone so young came to lead an entire basketball team of technicians?"

She laughed, "Wait! How old do you think I am?"

Shit. I was in dangerous territory and I knew better.

Stuttering, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

She stopped meandering and I briefly took my attention off of my dog after Kelsea lightly slapped my abbs on a reacharound. "Answer me. How old do you think I am?"

I looked down on her, "25, mid twenties?"

She did that smile thing, her eyes shuttering, sending her cute dimples up high. "Well, thank you, sir. But I'm 34 and going on spinster. Just so you know."

Wow. That sort of changed the way I looked at her now. Wait. No. No, it shouldn't.

She caught on to my surprise. I suppose it wasn't her first time she had astonished someone with that. "It's the genes I got from my Filipino mother. The women in my family tend to look young and age well. Is that OK with you?"

How does one respond to that?!

"Why wouldn't I be OK with that? Good for you. I mean... you look great."

I caught myself once again. I shouldn't be talking like that with her, a colleague. One that I respected.

"I'm sorry, I had no business saying that."

She smiled at me, "Don't be sorry unless you didn't mean it. I mean, um, thank you."

We walked a while and she asked me of myself, I admitted I was about to turn 39.

She didn't seem phased by that and then she felt compelled to explain her qualifications. Chemical engineering degree from Davis and then an MBA with emphasis on statistical analysis from UCSD.

Yeah. Qualified.

She went further, "After school, I spent 8 years as assistant to the lab director at KenSky Aviation, moving into a co-director role before enough was enough, and then this job opened up and I didn't hesitate. KSA was super stressful, one time a plane went down and we had to prove the adhesive was not at fault. The FAA was all over us like we were on trial for murder, which... I suppose, is not far from the truth. Have you ever wondered if people would fly anymore if they knew that these days airplanes are held together with tape and glue?"

I replied, "I try not to think about that."

We both gave a nervous chuckle until I realized we had reached the southernmost point of the beach at where the San Dieguito Lagoon, made from the San Dieguito River, spilled into the Pacific. It was also across the 101 Pacific Coast Highway from the famous horse racetrack.

Lots of people and especially children liked to play in the runoff, but I didn't want Lacey even near it. It was further fed by storm drains from the streets, the oil and automotive fluids rinsed off of I-5 every time it rained, and too many chemicals to count. Like Kelsea, by formal education I was a chemical engineer too, but didn't need to be one to understand the danger.

I got Lacey's attention with my whistle, which she understood from our normal routine and started making her way north as Kelsea and I turned around.

I didn't have to say anything about it to Kelsea. She said quietly, "Yeah. I get it. I don't know what those parents are thinking in letting their children play in that."

We didn't say too much on our meandering back north except we walked up onto a boulder that was exposed by the low tide and holding pools of water, sharing any interesting find with each other. Even Lacey put a pause on making new dog friends and joined us, she likes exploring the tide pool boulders herself.

We continued north, taking a less than straight route as we kept to the gently lapping wave's edge as it came and went. I curiously felt an urge to hold her hand which I consciously quelled, but somehow found we were practically touching, shoulder to shoulder, and we'd occasionally bump off of each other. Lacey was through playing with other dogs and I could tell she was winding down, trotting parallel with us but in about 8" of water, desperate to cool down.

We finally reached the base of the wicked cliffside stairway and between that and the water, I laid out my towel on dry sand while Kelsea did the same right next to me. Using my "dog towel" I rubbed Lacey down, drying her as best as I could while she panted hard, sounding completely out of breath. Using a pop up bowl I gave her some fresh water which she lapped up eagerly before laying down, jowls spread and everything else, on her towel, watching the people and dogs walk by.

I always enjoyed people watching and this was a great place to do it. I said so out loud to Kelsea.

She agreed, "Yeah. I don't know why I stayed away from the beach for so long. Life got busy I guess. I'm going to put an effort to come here more often.

I smiled at her, wondering why she would choose this beach when she didn't even have a dog. As I did so, I couldn't help but check her out as she laid out on the towel, propped up by her arms and elbows slightly behind her back. Breathtaking. Just breathtaking. Which is what made it so difficult to stop perving on her and get back to the view out over the ocean.

*

After some good conversation, if you call discussing the properties of good epoxies and substrate surface energy transformation 'good' topics, we sat in appreciable but comfortable silence.

I did finally have to admit the inevitable, "Kelsea, I need to get Lacey out of the sun. Too much is not good for black dogs."

"Yeah, OK," she responded, if not a little sadly. "It's not good for the skin of a pasty pale girl like me either. I'll pack it up too."

We assembled our things in our respective beach bags and I asked her, "Where did you park?"

"I couldn't find anything close, even after several back and forths, so I went up to Cardiff and parked there."

"You mean the pay lot?" I asked, knowing.

"Yeah. It wasn't too expensive. Long walk though."

"That's the understatement of the year. Yikes."

I thought about it and then ignored all the red flags, "I'm parked in what I call 'secret parking' just beyond the top of the stairs. Why don't you let me drive you to Cardiff."

"Yeah, sure. Thanks." She looked at the stairs and giggled, "I'll certainly have gotten my workout for the day."

We climbed the stairs. Poor Lacey practically dragging her ass up every step, now and again giving me the look like she just wanted to take a nap and that I was a slave driver for making her climb. Kelsea giggled nearly the whole way up at that.

She was impressed with my parking spot, probably not so much with my beat up old Jeep with no roof or doors. I defended it by explaining it was resistant to wet dog and then showed her how to wash the sand off her feet from my gravity-fed water rig strung up in the back before I gave Lacey a vigorous deep-dry-off with more old towels I had stashed.

Once Lacey was secure and we were buckled up, while I was warming up the engine, Kelsea asked, "Yesterday, you said something about getting a beer?"

I hesitated at first. On one hand, she didn't know I would offer to drive her to her car, so she couldn't have planned on hanging out with me longer. On the other hand, her company wouldn't be terrible. My routine was to hang out in one of a few local cantinas I know that have dog-friendly patios where Lacey would pass out in exhaustion on the cool brick flooring and I would have a drink and a carne asada burrito while watching sports on their TVs.

I looked over at her and into her eyes which had gotten a pleading, almost desperate sort of look. As if I said no, she'd go down like the Hindenburg. Then I came to a thought that maybe part of my problem all along with women was my inability to say no until it really was going down in flames.

I couldn't say 'no' to Kelsea at that moment either.

She added fuel to the fire, somehow reading my mind, "If it's not that far out of the way, that is. I could go for a beer. If you wouldn't mind a little more company."

I threw out some flak to not sound, well, easy, "Actually, I think today is more of a margarita day for me."

"I like margaritas." She responded, sounding re-energized and licking her lips.

"OK, sure." I looked over my shoulder at Lacey, spread eagle in the back, "Lacey, it looks like your new friend is going to join us for an early dinner."

Lacey raised her head briefly and then let it down with a huff. That's labrador-speak for, "Whatever, I'm just going to sleep anyway."

*

Sunday was the monthly scheduled lunch/dinner at Mom and Dad's. My sister, Suzy, who was now quite pregnant, and her husband, Tom, who never missed doting after her in his Herculean like support of his treasured wife who never had to lift a finger for anything around him. Dad would usually smoke two or three kinds of meat, Mom would fill the rest of the smoker's shelves with whatever she could think of. It was kind of an all day event but the food was always great and it was fun to spend unrushed time with my family. I was lucky that way.

I got caught up on the goings on of everyone in the family. The good and bad, and just about everything. Thankfully it was mostly of the former variety. There was a lot of excitement over my sister's baby, confirmed a girl, with the due date just around the corner. So lots to talk about.

Lacey made her rounds, making sure she gave equal attention to every one of us. Well, that is after an initial quick sniff of my family and then an extended sniff of everything in Mom and Dad's backyard first.

At some point, all the humans were at the patio picnic-like table. I think I was spooning seconds of the smoked pork-n-beans onto my plate when Mom hit me with an observation. I'm sure she had been waiting most of the day to get me in a weak moment or something to get to the heart of the matter. That's just like Mom.

"You've been a little quiet today, Geraint. Heavy thoughts about something. Tell me, what are you brooding over?"

"Nothing." I lied.

"Don't you fib to your old Mother. I brought you into this world, I can take you out too. Now what is it?"

"You're not old, Mom."

My sister, Tam, was giggling her ass off. I hoped she wouldn't break her water over that. That's a thing, right?

Tam looked at Mom, "It has to be a girl. When he gets this way, it's always over a girl."

Mom praised her, "Good observation, Tam. You're going to make a great mom."

Then Mom went right back at me, "Your sister's right, you know. What's this girl's name? Where'd you meet her?"

"It's not like that!" I mumbled, a mouth full of smoked andouille sausage.

Tam got serious too, I could see so much of Mom in her, "I thought you swore off of women, bro. Because you're cursed."

Mom scolded Tam, "Don't bring up that curse nonsense, you!"

Then Mom just gave me the 'look', waiting.

I sighed and gave in, "I spent the day at the beach with Lacey and, um, a colleague. Her name is Kelsea. Then we went out for a margarita and a burrito."

While my sister smirked, Mom beamed at me, "So! You are dating again."

"No, Mom," I defended, "it wasn't a date. I don't know what it was, but it wasn't a date."

Tam asked, "Is she cute?"

I nodded my head, "Very much so, if you must know."

"Are you going to see her again?"

"Yes. Every Tuesday and Thursday at 9:30 AM on my computer."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"Listen," I pleaded to the women of my family, "I let it slip in a meeting on Friday that I was taking Lacey to dog beach over the weekend, and she just showed up. It's not like it was planned."

"Not planned by you," Mom got out, "but she did."

"So, she stalked you," Tam interjected. "Because she likes you."

I remained in defense mode, "She might like me now. But you all know how that tends to play out."

Mom got a sad look, Tam even more so. My sister got up from the table with great effort and waddled over to my side of the table to bend over and hug me. "Bro, I'm so sorry for the way I've teased you over the years. You've had some bad luck, that's all. Not everyone is like the be-ah-tches you went out with. Maybe this one will be different."

I hugged Tam back, "I love you, sis. And thank you. But I'll never get busted up again."

*

*

Kelsea

*

Mom, my sister, Alex, and I were in assembly line mode. Stuffing the lumpia wrappers that Mom made from scratch, wetting the seam and rolling into shape, and then dropping into the hot oil before fishing them out and drying on the rack over paper towels. At the same time mom was minding her 'spicy sauce' on the burner that we'd dip the lumpia in once sat at the table to eat. That is if we had any left after Dad's sneaking into the kitchen to pilfer one or two at a time right off the rack.

We'd warn him not to burn himself, and he still would, at least once. Every single time we made these as a family. From when I was a little kid even.

Mom started in on me and I immediately recognized her tone that preceded an inquisition, "Looks like you got some sun, Kelsea."

I kept calm and responded, "Yeah, I went to the beach yesterday. Forgot to put on sunscreen."

That got mom to pause stirring the spicy sauce, "The beach? You? When was the last time you did that?"

"It has been way too long. I plan to go again, too. I had a great day."

Alex jumped in, "Could it be, because, ah... a certain handsome man you've been mooning over was there?"

Mom held up the assembly line in surprise, Alex giggled. First my sister and then my mother, I scolded both, "You, I will never tell you anything ever again, and you, get back to work, we have to keep ahead of Dad if we're going to have anything left to eat."

Nosey mode was in full play when Mom asked, "Who is this handsome man? Tell me all about him."

"There's not a lot to tell, Mom." I sighed quietly to myself, "It's actually a tragedy."

"Go on," she urged, not accepting my response as the last word.

"Yes, he is really handsome. He's smart, actually a chemical engineer like me. He's funny, but I'm the only one who seems to get his goofball sense of humor. He's the perfect guy for me, like the one I've waited for my whole life."

Alex whispered into my ear, "Tell her about the erotic dreams."

I glared at Alex so hard, like I could make laser beams shoot from my eyes and strike her down.

I looked up and was instantly surprised. Dad was standing across the kitchen island from where I was standing. He didn't look happy.

"So what is wrong with him, Kelsea. He isn't married, is he?" He asked in slow deliberate speech.

"No!" I replied in almost a screech. "I would never do that, Dad." I could see him relax at that, which just spiked my anxiety.

I nearly started to cry, "Everything's wrong! He's a unicorn. I can't have him, I don't think anyone can. It's worse than that, I work with the guy. And... and... it doesn't matter. He's not interested in me."

I was having trouble focusing on the hot oil. I finally realized that it was because my eyes were full of tears.

I felt myself pulled in every direction until I landed in a full family embrace. And it felt good.

I thanked my ridiculous, frustrating, and wonderful family until Dad broke the moment. "You're going to need more lumpia."

The rest of us looked over at the empty cooling rack and we scolded him at the same time, "Dad!"

*

After dinner and the following kitchen clean-up duty, I hung out with my family for a while and I could tell that they were all walking on eggshells around me. Not wanting to upset me after my earlier outburst. Only, it bothered me more that my family wanted to treat me differently. I declared it was time to go home, and Alex did the same.

We said our goodbyes to Mom and Dad, and then Alex walked out with me to where our cars were parked on the street. She stopped me at the end of the driveway.

She asked, "You OK?"

I shrugged, "Yeah, I'm good."

She pursed her lips at me, "That was quite the emotional display in the kitchen earlier. That is very much not like you."

"Yeah. Well."

"Want me to follow you home tonight? Bill is working at the hospital until Tuesday. I can spend the night. We can make popcorn, watch BBC TV, talk with British accents, and have a sisters-night."

I was thrilled my sister would stay over, "Yeah, I would really like that." I was also eager to change the subject from me to her, "Um, how is that going? With you and Bill, I mean."

"I'll just be glad when his residency is over. His internship was worse, but this is, well, it doesn't seem like it's ever going to be over and like we'll never get to live a normal life, you know?"

"No. Honey, I don't. But you two will get through it. Besides Mom and Dad, I've never seen two people so in love like you and Doctor Bill."

She smiled at me, "Yeah, thanks. It's just so lonely in the house when he's gone. So empty."

I smiled back, "Now that I can relate to. Only, I'm lonely 24/7. You have something to look forward to every three or four days, I have nothing."

She caressed my cheek with her palm, "Awww. You'll find someone, I know it. Maybe you already have." She finished that with a smirk.

I rolled my eyes and she giggled before getting in her own car to follow me home.

*

By Tuesday, my sunburn had turned into a nice golden brown tan. I was lucky like that. I got some of Dad's DNA, who's ethnic origin was lost to history, but lucky enough that his skin skips certain stages of sun exposure, bouncing over the red and going right to a beautiful dark color. I hit the genetic lottery I think sometimes. Except for getting Dad's nose and losing out of anything from my beautiful mother, her looks which my sister got instead.

Back to the subject of my suntan, Geraint noticed. While we were in Tuesday's project update meeting, he private-messaged me through a feature in the 9-box software. "Looks like you are pasty pale skinned no more."

"Do you like?" I messaged him back privately.

I saw on camera, his smile dropped off at that. I seemed to have developed a way to get to him and was starting to recognize the signs.

He was flustered, which made him miss someone's question.

"Uh, hello? Geraint? Earth to Geraint." The fellow from Operations got his, and everyone else's attention.

Geraint stuttered, "Uh, sorry about that." Then he paused and looked embarrassed. "What was the question?"

Knowing how this crowd likes him, I was not surprised that they all forgave him for his unusual loss of attention. The guy repeated his question, "Do you think that with the equipment being brought in earlier, Maintenance can move up the installation schedule a week?"

Geraint got back on track, his confident face returning in a flash, "Yeah, sure. I'll find out if that's possible and make it happen. I'll copy the group on that once I know."

I private messaged him again, "Pay attention to the meeting, you."

He grinned and then put himself on 'mute' before tapping away at his keyboard, trying to be sly about it as he was still on camera. The little dot-dot-dot things appeared on my screen, he was going to respond. Then his face went through a range of emotions and I knew, just knew, he was typing, then backspacing, then all that on repeat before he finally gave up. My dot-dot-dot display went dark and he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms.

I suppressed my emotions, not wanting to be caught giggling and smirking at the same time while I was on camera.

I just wished I knew what he back-spaced over.

*

I dialed him on Friday afternoon in a rare spot where his calendar looked free. He picked up and his smiling face filled my computer screen.

"Hello, Kelsea. How are you today?" And then from just over Geraint's shoulder, Lacey flew in and said hello to me in her usual, silly way.

Geraint got things calmed down and I suddenly felt nervous. I had to just get it over with. "Geraint, I checked the tide chart and there's a low tide super early in the morning and then another one in the afternoon. How early do you get up for Lacey?"

Geraint chuckled, "Not that early! I need my beauty sleep, you know."

As if. Looks like he got more beauty sleep than such a handsome man should have. It made me giggle.

He smiled, happy that he amused me before changing the plan, "There's a low tide at 10 AM on Sunday. Lacey and I will just go then."

Yeah. Sunday would work for me. I didn't say anything but Geraint crumpled his face and read mine. "Is there a possibility that I'm going to find you wandering around Dog Beach on Sunday?"

I laughed. "Maybe."

Well, not maybe. More like... absolutely.

*

The three of us lay on our towels on the sand, Lacey panting hard with her tongue hung out in exhaustion after our water-side beach walk. Geraint repositioned himself into sitting upright with his legs criss-crossed while he looked out over the Pacific. I was closely watching him, admiring his face while hoping my sunglasses wouldn't give me away.

Then over his shoulder I saw it. Well, I saw her. He hadn't yet, but there was no way he was going to miss her as she was about to walk on by.

There was no way the entire beach would not notice her.

I made a quick prediction in my head how Geraint might react and it played out exactly like I thought it might.

The woman wore a two piece bathing suit barely able to contain her lady-bits. It was made of just string, really. It displayed her features while leaving zero to the imagination. Her long, reddish-golden hair flowing behind her in the wind like Botticelli's Venus on the Half Shell. She dangled a pair of sandals from her fingers and walked the beach barefoot, making her way south in a slow stroll.

As she passed us by, Geraint sort of did a double take. First by soaking up the sight of her from the front as she approached before he returned his gaze to the ocean, then getting a long second look at her backside as she continued on.

I chuckled to myself before stabbing him with a playful accusation, "So you like that? Hard body, tall beauty, showing a lot of skin."

"Wha?!" He weakly tried to defend himself. "Who?"

"Oh my god, really?! Are you really going to pretend you didn't see that?"

"See who?"

"Answer me. Do you like that?"

He gave up, unable to feign ignorance any longer, "What? You mean that girl in the red bikini? She's just a kid. I could technically be her father."

I enjoyed watching him squirm. It was cute. I continued to tease, "Yeah, well maybe so, but quite a hot body in a revealing stringy two-piece, don't you think?"

He just sort of mumbled, "She couldn't be over 18. That's ridiculous. You think I'm some kind of sick pervert or something."

I asked, "How do you think I would look wearing that?"

I watched him physically gulp and then start to smooth out wrinkles on his towel. He didn't respond, so I let him off the hook. "Well, don't get any ideas, buster. I'm not that kind of girl."

"I don't have any ideas. No ideas. And I don't know what kind of girl that is, but what does she have that you don't?"

"Besides the hard body, boobs that defy gravity, and youth? Confidence. She has an endless amount of confidence."

He was eager to change the subject and reached out to lay a hand on Lacey's exposed hip. Withdrawing it, he said, "She feels really hot. I need to get her out of the sun. Remember, I don't have a roof on the Jeep either."

We started to gather our things and while I sorted out my beach bag, tried to work up some courage. "Geraint, are you up for a margarita or maybe a beer today?"

He looked at me with a puzzled look, like he didn't know what to do with me. I could see an internal struggle going on in his mind.

"Sure," he gave in. "There's a tasting room just north of here that has a nice patio that Lacey likes and they have really cold beer."

"I like cold beer," I confessed, doing my best to hide my excitement.

"Well, as my father would say, 'leave us went.'"

I giggled at that and also at Lacey who went into a dog 'sit' and yawned deeply. If I didn't know better I would think she took a look over at the stairs and gave the labrador equivalent of a groan.

*

It was a great day. A really great day. Every moment I spent with Geraint seemed like a gift. I went to bed and said a prayer, hoping for more days like that.

And then it was Monday. I was still riding the buzz from the weekend until I really thought about it. Doubts started creeping in.

Then it was Tuesday. I was in the 9-box, watching Geraint tick off action items in his project update meeting when it really struck me. I wasn't getting anywhere.

That Sunday, after we had left the beach we met for a couple of beers and lunch, I did my best to flirt. He wouldn't respond in kind. I'm really not that good at it, I don't have much experience at flirting, um, none actually, but I did my best and he never took the bait.

He was funny, and he'd smile at himself everytime he made me laugh. We had great conversation. He was his usual self. Therein lies the problem.

How could I get him to really notice me?

*

It took me 24 hours to realize that I needed to pull the nuclear option.

Then I waffled. Could I? Did I have the nerve?

No risk, no reward.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

But, oh my god. There's obscenity laws that still need to be observed, right? What would my mother think?

I can do it. I dropped a non-returnable $300, ensuring I wouldn't back out. Then stared at the ceiling unable to sleep while I berated myself all night for making bad decisions.

Out of the blue on Friday, I got a private message from Geraint and we had a back and forth exchange. I'm braver with communicating that way and I'm pretty sure I got to him again, leaving him unsure what to make of me. Or what I was up to.

Geraint: I suppose Dog Beach is in your weekend plans, making it 3 in a row?

Me: Wouldn't you miss me if I skipped it?

He let that hang for about 15 minutes.

Geraint: Lacey would miss you.

Me: Yeah, right. After the beach taps all her energy, she's just lazy and wants to nap.

Geraint: Ha. True.

Me: Low tide, tomorrow, 11 AM, right?

Geraint: Right.

Me: Are you up for lunch and an adult beverage after? I can pick the place and pick up the tab this time.

Geraint: Sure. Dog friendly?

Me: Oh, I know a place. They take all sorts of dirty dogs.

I followed up quickly.

Me: Oh, wait. You didn't mean Lacey, did you?

Geraint: Oh, ha ha. See you tomorrow.

"Oh, yeah," I thought to myself, "you're going to be seeing a lot of me tomorrow."

*

*

Geraint

*

James Cagney was squishing a grapefruit into Mea Clark's face, but my favorite scene barely got my attention. My mind was, well, it was occupied.

The only light in the home was coming from the television set, but that was enough for me to make out Lacey's form laying on the couch next to me, her head on my lap. I scratched her gently behind the ears.

"So this is it," I said to her, "this is our life. Sitting home on a Friday night, watching an old movie we've seen before, made before we were born. What do you think about that, girl?"

She raised her head slightly and managed to lick my hand before she laid it back down and urged me to continue scratching behind her ear. That kiss I took to mean that she was OK with our lifestyle.

Then I thought about that and added to my list of being pathetic, "Talks to his dog when no one else is around." Check.

I guess I didn't have to be like this. I could have left Lacey alone for a couple of hours and gone to a bar or club, maybe made some friends, or at the very least, chatted it up with a bartender. I could have gone out to dinner instead of ordering the insanely spicy fried chicken sandwich from a delivery service.

I could have been in bed. With a woman. Naked skin in contact with skin, our mouths on one another. When all too soon I would feel her slide a knife into my back and through my heart.

I shuddered at my thoughts. Lacey lifted her head and gave my hand another kiss.

I could also be talking to Kelsea. She could be here right now. Sitting on the couch with me and Lacey between us. Safe.

I liked talking to Kelsea. Everything about her was great. And that, dammit... that is a problem.

On my phone, I re-read our PM exchange and was instantly disappointed with myself. I was rude. How could she still like me after what I had written?

That was the thing. She liked me. I knew months ago of her growing interest, and it was sweet. It seemed genuine. Honest. She didn't come right out and say it, but I've been seasoned and recognize the signs.

I mean, I recognize that part. I just don't recognize the later signs, the ones that crush me.

I had been doing my best to not fuel her interest in me. Knowing it better for her short term, and for me long term, but either way. It couldn't go anywhere. She's too smart to not know that herself.

Yet, she was persistent. Didn't seem dissuaded. Why?

Her stalking of me at the beach. Yeah, I now considered it for what it is. Only... was I culpable? The first time, for sure, but she telegraphed what she was doing and I didn't exactly say, 'no, leave me alone,' now did I? Not at all.

The beach was one thing, but then we extended our time together with lunch or dinner, or whatever you want to call it, lengthening our time together.

How did I feel about that? How should I feel about that? If I'm being honest, those two questions are mutually exclusive.

Yeah. That's the problem. I liked her. I liked our conversations. I liked her exuberance when she talked about her family or asked about mine. When we talked about movies, or books, or even physics. She had interesting insights and at other times, she listened. I don't think she was faking it either. She really listened.

Over lunch last weekend, I told her the dumbest joke I knew and she laughed so hard she had tears in her eyes and looked so cute. Then she followed it up by telling me a joke, a dirty one by the way, that was so dumb, it was hilarious. I laughed so hard I could tell I was irritating the other diners and even the wait staff. What could I do?

When was the last time I was with someone who made me laugh?

I couldn't remember.

I looked over at the empty half of the couch and pictured Kelsea sitting there. Smiling at me. Asking me if I could forgive Darth Vader for his evilness and for killing Obi Wan because in the one moment, he saved Luke from the Emperor.

I realized what I was doing, I had to bring up my list of being pathetic, "Has imaginary friends who's beautiful but asks nerdy questions." Check.

I was broken out of my thoughts by a gunshot, which startled me. There on TV was Cagney, a smoking gun in his hand.

Whether it was the loud sound or by me being startled, Lacey got up and went into a 'dog sit' right next to me.

"Sorry, girl." I lowered the volume with the remote just before she started slobbering up my face with kisses, and as gross as it was, made me feel a lot better.

"We'll be OK. We got each other, don't we girl."

*

Saturday was expected to be hot. Like, really hot. Across all of coastal Southern California as a result of a weather condition known as Santa Ana winds, sometimes called Devil Winds. Hot, strong, dry wind, blowing from the high pressure air mass of the high desert towards the low pressure over the Pacific. We were in our third consecutive day of it and now it was the weekend which was expected to drive many of the locals towards the beaches for some relief.

And they showed up in droves. The beach was packed.

I knew that in advance as my secret parking lot was full. I scored the final open spot in my backup secret parking lot a block away. As I was unloading and leashing up Lacey, I saw Kelsea's Volvo parked nearby, so she was already on the beach ahead of me.

Lacey was pumped and couldn't wait to get her paws on the sand as I walked her down the stairway, scanning the beach, looking for Kelsea. At the bottom I looked again for Kelsea. Not seeing her, I removed my sandals and took in the feeling of sand under my bare feet as I unleashed Lacey.

To my surprise, she didn't bolt towards the water. Instead she jogged about ten yards to an eye-catching woman who bent down to greet my dog. The woman was eye-catching because of what she was wearing. Which was almost nothing at all.

In the couple of years I've been taking Lacey to the beach, I'd only ever seen her bolt towards the water and look for wet dog butts to sniff. So this was strange. I meandered towards the two of them, Lacey prancing and shaking, over-excited about meeting the woman.

The woman looked up at me with a smile. It was Kelsea. As I approached, she said, "What took you so long? I didn't think you were ever going to get here."

Then she stood up and I got a look at her. What she wore was unlike the teen from last weekend, it was more than just strings, but Kelsea's neon-yellow two piece still didn't leave anything to the imagination. Her bottoms shaped like a deep V, high on her hips, narrow at her mound. The top being just two triangles supporting a perfect handful each of firm, round breasts, supported by nearly invisible straps. Her existing tan lines were mismatched to the new suit, something I always found incredibly sexy.

I lost my breath. Instantly embarrassed for gawking, I forced myself to make nothing but eye contact. I took one more glance, not being able to help it, and back to eye contact.

Her smile faded. She asked, "Well? Do you like it?"

That's when I noticed that she was trembling. Like she was freezing cold, opposite of the environmental conditions.

I responded with a dry throat, "Yes. You look great."

"Then look at me." She took a sharp intake of breath, and then almost desperately added, "Please."

I took her all in while she repositioned herself, bringing her hands up and fingers into her hair as if to contain it, and slightly parted her legs. It made her all that more statuesque and she jutted her chest out towards me.

She was amazing.

And fighting, clawing even, for the confidence necessary to be exposed as she was.

I got real close to her, partly to shield her from the view of the rest of the beachgoers, and partly to see her up close and try and understand.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked.

She took a deep breath, "Honestly? I'm trying to get your attention."

"Why?"

"Because I'm falling in love with you."

"You can't."

"If you mean, I can't help it. Then, yeah."

I came back to some semblance of reality, "Sea. We need to talk."

She nodded, "I know. Later, OK? Now. Did I get your attention?

That made me chuckle, "Oh, yes. Yes, fully and undivided. Now what am I going to do with you?"

That brought out her dimpled smile, "I have a few ideas. For now, walk with me?"

"Of course." Then I remembered Lacey. I looked out towards the surf but didn't see her anywhere, which gave me a moment of panic until I noticed that she hadn't moved from our sides.

I gave her permission, "Go play."

Her paws remained planted except she turned her head and looked longingly at the water before looking back up at Kelsea and I, her tongue hanging out at full length. I tried to understand what was going on and then Lacey got up, moved behind me, and nudged me forward towards Kelsea.

I was so close to her our noses would be touching if she wasn't such a little shortie. Before I could step back and away, she wrapped her arms around me and erased the small gap between us in a hug. I heard and felt her sigh, finishing the move on my part by reciprocating the hug.

There was something about that hug. I mean, it felt good, but it also relaxed me. How long had it been since I was held?

Because I had taken my tee shirt off on my descent of the stairs, there was a lot of skin on skin contact. I had forgotten how much that meant to me and just how much I had missed that.

I don't know who ended it first, maybe it was just mutual, but we separated. She looked up at me a little dazed, "That was nice." I just nodded my head, trying to get back to rational thought.

We started making our usual southern route on the beach, in the direction of Del Mar. Kelsea was getting a lot of attention and I could feel some anxiety in her building with every sandy step. I reached for her hand and held it, having the desired effect, releasing her tension like air from a balloon that was let loose.

The wild thing was, Lacey trotted alongside us as we walked. Eschewing her normal beach behavior, it was almost as if she was escorting us along the water's edge, keeping us, what? Safe?

I said it out loud, "Lacey's a smart dog. Like really smart. She's sensing your nervousness and protecting you." What I didn't say was that she's also sensing my confusion and with the sum of our emotions, she was trying to protect both of us.

Lacey took it a step further, and whenever a dog strayed near us, she would adopt a posture that said, "stay away," and when a dude on foot would gawk at Kelsey, Lacey would nudge us to stay well clear.

Kelsea squeezed my hand, "Geraint, you called me 'Sea'. Nobody's done that before. I've been called 'Kel' before, but never that."

"Just felt right," I replied. "Are you OK with that?"

I got another hand squeeze, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm just fine."

I got a funny thought, "About your beach attire... I thought you said last week that you weren't that type of girl."

"Yeah, I know. Crazy right? I'm shocked at myself. It wasn't cheap either. Why is it that the less material used in a woman's bathing suit, the more it costs?"

I chuckled, "I did not know that. Doesn't make any sense to me."

"It was all worth it though. It got you to notice me and I got a really good hug out of it."

I chuckled, "You didn't think I'd be cheap did you?" I thought about what I said and wanted to smack myself. So stupid. Tried to correct my rudeness, "I mean, my hugs aren't cheap. Shit. I mean... "

She giggled and tried to shoulder bump me, but our height difference didn't work and she tripped. I caught her before she faceplanted into the wet sand. Only I grabbed at her with my free hand kind of awkwardly and sort of copped a feel.

She got herself back on track and we resumed our walk, hand in hand, but she laughed heartily and then laughed again, "Now who's cheap?"

*

I think she gradually got more comfortable with her exposed skin and even got a little swagger in her step as her confidence first rebuilt, and then achieved a level that I think she didn't even know she could get to.

Me, not so much.

When we were exploring the tide pools and for those moments with unclasped hands, I got a good look at her backside. Perfect, cute little butt. Most of which was on display. I strategically carried my beach bag to hide my arousal.

That's the thing. I struggled to tamp down the fantasies swirling around my mind. Something had to be done.

Only, it felt more than just the pull of physical attraction. I loved being around her, like I picked up on some kind of aura that just made me feel good. Like butterflies and tingly kind of good.

When we got to the base of the stairs, instead of laying our towels down as we had done the past two weekends, I reiterated that we needed to talk. And not at the beach. It was so packed, uncomfortably so, our talk needed to be more private.

Though she didn't look real happy about all that, she followed me and Lacey to where we parked and washed her feet off before covering up. She pulled a pair of cutoff shorts over her bottom and put a tee shirt on over her top. With totally conflicting emotions, I was both disappointed and relieved that she was no longer so exceedingly exposed.

While it was my turn to make myself presentable, she fiddled with her phone until I felt mine buzz-alert me from my pocket. It had a message from Kelsea and I looked over at her, she was grinning at me like the Cheshire Cat before I opened the attached picture.

It was a selfie photograph of her that she took at the beach, presumably before I arrived. She was smiling a nervous smile, but a well taken pic and a mostly full frontal view.

She sheepishly said, "Something to remember our day by. I doubt you'll ever see me in that again."

*

Since she wanted to pick out the place where we'd have a late lunch (and our talk), I followed her to a place in Cardiff by the Sea, right by the railroad tracks but with a great view of the Pacific from its patio.

I had been there before, but not in years. Go figure. I had been there with at least three of my exes, and not been back after Gillian put the final nail in my coffin for relationships.

All that came to the forefront of my mind and I blame that for my lapse of attention to a crucial detail. As we entered the restaurant by way of the patio's outdoor bar, Kelsea was on my right and Lacey was on a loose-leash held by my left hand. Suddenly the leash went tight while fastened to 65 lbs. of labrador dead weight.

Lacey had stopped in her tracks at the edge of the patio where the flooring was laid out in a checkerboard pattern of glossy blue and white ceramic tiles. With the slack gone in the leash, my momentum pulled Lacey inadvertently forward and onto the tiles. She let out the most desperate yelp unlike I had ever heard from her before, as if she was in extreme pain, sounding like a bark from a large sea lion. She then leapt back, off of the tiles, carrying me with her by pulling hard on the leash.

I uttered an, "Oh, no," as I went to her, she was in a dog sit just trembling with fear. My heart instantly broke and I went to my knees, wrapping her up in my arms and stroking her back. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. You're OK. We don't have to go in there. I'm so sorry, Lacey."

I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked up at Kelsea who had tears streaming down her cheeks. She said, "I'm so sorry. I forgot what you told me about her phobia."

Lacey's trembling abated and Kelsea went to her knees next to me to further assure Lacey with petting of her black furry head. Lacey gave us both a quick kiss to let us know she was OK, then wiggled her body until she was pointed 180 degrees and away from the patio.

I wanted to blame my ex-girlfriends for still having an effect on my mind, but I knew it was all my fault.

*

*

Kelsea

*

It all happened so fast and was over in a heartbeat, but the magnitude felt enormous on my heart. The bone-chilling yelp was one thing, only I knew that it didn't physically hurt poor Lacey. It was Geraint's reaction that put tears in my eyes.

His level of worry out of love for his animal, the outpouring of guilt and apologies, and trying to hug it out of Lacey, it was all gut wrenching.

With Lacey's attention redirected away from the restaurant, the two of them trotted towards the parking lot with me in pursuit, practically at their heels.

Geraint got Lacey up into the Jeep and began to secure her as usual and I thought, shit, that's it. My day with the two of them is over.

Instead he said to me, "Why don't you try and follow me back to my place. I'll text you a link to directions in case we get separated by red lights or the assholes who drive like jerks around town. It's not too far from here, we can talk there." He hesitated getting into the driver's seat before, "If you're OK with that, that is."

Of course I was.

I followed him without incident and we managed not to get separated. He pulled into a two car garage, parking his crappy Jeep with all its missing parts next to some kind of Mazda sedan. I pulled into the driveway and got out, bringing my beach bag with me.

Once inside, I got the tour. His townhome condo was a little smaller than mine, only his patio off of the back was about twice my size and much more private than mine. I was expecting the place to be decorated in 'man cave' but it wasn't so bad. More like decorated in 'dog forward', it was evident that Lacey was left in want of nothing. Doggy beds, cushions, bowls, and toys everywhere one looked, including in his bedroom. The art on the walls were all kitschy prints of labradors, the worst one depicted a dog sitting on a toilet while reading a newspaper.

Geraint seemed embarrassed by it all, probably why he rushed the tour and then ushered me out to a patio chair before bringing me a beer from the kitchen and then ordering pizza delivery after asking me what I liked on it.

We settled in, and I could see he was mentally preparing himself for his 'we need to talk' speech. I wasn't sure what was making me most uncomfortable. What was about to come or that my bathing suit under my clothes was chafing my skin, and my crotch was itching due to the necessary removal of all my pubic hair in order to wear the new bottoms in public. It was almost painful not being able to scratch myself in front of him, so I did a little squirming when I could, to very little relief.

Geraint found his voice after organizing his thoughts and then unfolded the tragedy of his lifetime, recounting the ghosts of ex-girlfriends, starting with his college sweetheart. Each an epic disaster. I lost count after four, each vignette being so exceedingly sad that I couldn't process counting them anymore.

Every time I thought it couldn't get any worse, it would further devolve into another train wreck.

He was modest about it. Tried to insinuate that he was mostly to blame and why. But there was no way. Call it my intuition, or the way I studied his face as he recounted his past, I could read between the lines. Those bitches hurt this boy. Badly.

I got it. He was indeed broken and I had a few 'aha' moments in remembering some of the standoffish moments we had when spending time with one another. All the pieces came together now.

Except for the pieces of my heart which had just been broken out of empathy for Geraint.

I was at a complete and total loss. What do I do now? How am I supposed to feel?

I know what I felt at that moment. It was sadness.

It overtook me and I moved to sit on his lap and cry it out. My arms went around his chest and I buried my face in his neck.

He said, "This is the opposite of the reaction I was expecting."

I pulled my head away to look at him, "We're friends, right? Friends hug." I put my head back in his neck.

Shit. Friends?! Did I really do that? Can one ever get out of 'the friend zone'? Stupid. So stupid.

He responded anyway, "Yeah. Friends." Then he wrapped me up in his arms like I was a life preserver and it was the best feeling I can remember.

*

*

Geraint

*

There. I had laid it all out. I felt exhausted.

She got it, right?

I was damaged goods and she could do better. Me, Lacey, and some cold pizza would be OK, though. Right?

I asked her if she wanted to watch a movie and she asked if I would pick one out, one of my nerdy old types that she knew I liked. I chose a campy Rita Hayworth musical, sort of a rom-com from the days before that was coined. I just liked Rita and at the moment I think it's because she reminded me a little of Kelsea.

Before we repositioned ourselves on the couch while I set up the movie she shyly asked if I had anything she could wear. Her big dollar bathing suit was irritating the hell out of her underneath her shorts and shirt. She was really cute about it. I brought her one of my tee shirts, sweatpants and boxers. She changed in my downstairs bathroom, emerging in just the tee shirt (and I mean just the shirt) that went to her knees.

"The pants wouldn't stay up," she said with a guilty looking shrug.

We found our places on the couch. At first she tried to be sly about it, but I couldn't help but notice that every few minutes, Kelsea would rub her crotch through the tee shirt. Eventually she couldn't conceal it anymore and with an expression of embarrassment admitted, "So itchy."

After a few repeats, she finally looked comfortable and relieved whenever she rubbed herself.

We watched the movie in sort of a huddled mass on the couch, Lacey in heaven having two bodies to cuddle with. Lacey and Kelsea falling asleep just after the second number. My tee shirt on Kelsea had migrated above her hips, exposing, well, everything.

What was I to do?

I let her sleep a little before I picked up Kelsea and took her up to my bed while she mumbled unintelligible things. She felt light in my arms but at the same time, not quite.

I could feel her entire delicate body against my arms, and I didn't mean it, I'm sure I didn't, but damn, I might have. I got a good look when I laid her down. My shirt had ridden up her waist and fully exposed her sex once again.

I almost lost my mind before covering her up and kissing her forehead to settle her down for the night.

What the fuck was happening to me?!

I let Lacey out to do her business and then I laid out on the couch under my favorite throw blanket with a big printed labrador on it.

What a day.

Sometime in the night, Lacey made her way up to my bedroom and laid with Kelsea on my bed.

I wish that I had been smart enough to do that.

*

*

Kelsea

*

Mondays suck. In general. Right?

This Monday felt just extra miserable.

Mainly it was that I had to face reality after a most unexpected weekend.

Geraint had laid his soul bare to me, the most vulnerable I had ever seen him. I felt that I got to see the real guy, the part of him that he'd been hiding behind the curtain. Finally. And as distressing and sad as his background story was, he trusted me with it.

Even with his serious trust issues so deeply ingrained, he trusted me. Me.

Then, of all things, I woke up in his bed. Too bad I was alone.

The bed smelled of him, and, well, a little like Lacey too. Then I smelled bacon. It was all surreal.

On the nightstand was a bottle of water with a Post-it note scribbled with, "H2O for Sea." In the bathroom, a new toothbrush, also with a note under it, "4 Sea."

I cleaned up and went downstairs, still in his tee, and found Geraint at a kitchen island stool eating bacon, toast, fruit, and an orange juice. He had the same setting made up for me at a place next to him.

Naturally, I had to greet an over-excited-to-see-me Lacey first.

No coffee, though what looked (and smelled) like a fresh pot was on the counter. He noticed my angst over that and chuckled before asking me nicely to finish my juice.

He cleaned up after me, refusing any help.

Finally, I got hopeful as he went to the coffee maker, but instead of filling us each a cup, he poured the entire pot into a thermos.

To my surprise, he asked, "Sea, if you're not in a real hurry this morning, would you, um, would you have coffee with me?"

My mind took a trip around the moon before I responded, "Of course. I'd like that, and I'm dying for some."

He chuckled, "Sorry about that. I just have this weekend ritual and you're kind of stuck with me. Small breakfast before coffee, and... and, um, would you put your bathing suit back on?"

It was then I noticed he was wearing board shorts. I asked with some confusion, "Are we going back to the beach? It should be high tide right now."

He smiled, "No nothing like that, just part of my usual thing. That's all."

Sure, sign me up, I thought.

I changed in a hurry, tried to get my hair tamed and into a ponytail, throwing in the towel at dolling myself up any more than that.

He groaned when he saw me. I was glad I got to him, never believing I would have a chance at looking anything other than like a disaster before a shower and cup of coffee. I guess it was a well spent $300 after all.

He handed me a towel and then led me a block down the street to where he unlocked a gated community pool. We took stairs to an elevated hot tub with a view of the lagoon behind his condo complex which I admired briefly before following Geraint into the water.

Lacey laid next to us as we sat in the water, her on the spa deck, looking both majestic and diligent. The three of us had the hot tub to ourselves.

"I like to have my coffee here when I can," he said, seeming embarrassed by that. "Nobody comes up here in the morning. In the evenings it's a zoo, party central, and I don't get near this place."

Being with Geraint, alone, who seemed relaxed and, well, happy, plus being enveloped in warm water, I swooned.

Then all too soon, it was all over and Monday was upon me. It came with a punch to the gut.

While commiserating with myself, wondering if I'd ever experience another weekend like that and the joy I felt as it had wrapped up, my computer put up an alert.

Geraint's VP had called a meeting out of the blue on the 9-box. Most of the managers were called in but the discussion was essentially between Geraint and his VP.

Quality had taken an unexpected shit at our primary Tijuana factory, and no one could satisfactorily explain why. Our best selling adhesive wasn't, um, it wasn't sticking like it should. To put it in layman's terms.

"Geraint, I want you to make your presence felt in Mexico. Get them back on track. Tomorrow, and every Tuesday after that, I want you in the plant. Take the company car." And then the VP blanked out of the meeting. Probably slapping his hands together like he had done something great, feeling like he cured a leper colony maybe.

I could see on screen that Geraint was distressed and only I knew why.

A trip to our TJ plant would be a long day, any way you looked at it.

He didn't have anyone to take care of his dog. No one ever had, he didn't trust anyone with her.

I PM'd him immediately. "Drop Lacey off on your way out. I'll look after her. Be careful down there."

I could see relief come over him, that was exactly what he fretted about.

That night he dropped in with Lacey. He came armed with a doggy bed, a leash, some toys, a couple of bowls for water and food, kibble and a couple of cushions. He also brought a lint brush for her fur, along with an apology in advance about the inevitable shedding. I also got a hug, a great one, by the way, and what seemed like a sincere and heartfelt 'thank you'.

I went to bed that night feeling tingly and happy that I could help. Appreciated even, and I hadn't even done anything yet.

*

Geraint dropped an excited Lacey off at just before 7 AM. Clearly Lacey was a morning person.

He didn't stay long, citing that he had to reach the factory by the time his meeting was to start, now pushed to 10:30.

He rushed through the Lacey news, "She's eaten, taken her morning shit, and will be good for 3-4 hours before she'll need to pee and thoroughly sniff your backyard. Sometime around lunchtime, she'll expect to have a walk through your neighborhood. She'll be excited for new things to sniff, don't let her linger too long at any one thing and take advantage of you, she needs to exercise. I'll see you tonight."

I got real close and put my hand on Geraint's chest to give my words some gravity, "Travel safe." It was all I could get out before he nodded sadly and then turned to leave. I do think he knew I meant it sincerely.

I let her out 30 minutes before the scheduled start of the meeting, and Lacey didn't leave anything un-sniffed before I got her back inside. She gave me an approving kiss after I let her in.

I settled in for the meeting and launched the 9-box software, checking myself in the camera preview window before showing my face.

So, I should have seen it coming. Not literally, but should have known all along and been prepared for it. Nope. Blew it in a spectacular fail.

I clicked 'OK' in the 9-box software and the meeting came alive on my screen. I was greeting the other meeting-goers and giving my helloes to Geraint from across the border when out of nowhere, Lacey swoops in and lands on my lap. All 60+ pounds of her.

I let out an audible, "Whuff!" I groaned, pissed that I had opened up the connection with my microphone on.

Lacey went to lick the screen but her eyes caught the image of Geraint in one of the boxes. Lacey emoted a groan of her own turned to me almost nose-to-nose as if to say, "WTF," and then returned her attention to my monitor before bestowing it with sloppy kisses.

I had to shift in my chair, adjust to bearing Lacey's weight, yet to no real relief.

I heard Geraint's commanding voice come through my computer speakers, "Lacey! No! Get down. Down, girl!"

Reluctantly, Lacey jumped off of my lap.

Through the slobber on my screen, I looked at all the stunned faces, including Geraint's. For my colleagues, the surprise was for Lacey showing up in my box, the walls of my home office on screen in the background. For Geraint, well, his face surely showed the same expression as mine. Like, "Oh, no. What have we done?"

Well, the cat was out of the bag now. Wait, the dog was out of the bag? The dog was... what?

Geraint would have had a clever way to put it, I'm sure. I just couldn't think straight, my mind a mess.

*

It was well after 6 PM when I got an alert that Geraint had crossed the border, via the phone-tracking software he gave me permission to view his location with.

Imagine that. Him having acute trust issues, letting his #1 stalker know his whereabouts in real time.

Now on the US side of the border I was able to call him, hoping his device was safely set to 'hands-free' as he was driving.

He picked up on the first ring, "Hello, this is Geraint."

"Hey, it's me. Sorry to call you while you're driving, but I had to ask you. How do I get your dog to eat? She just stared at the bowl for a half hour and now is just laying on the floor next to it. I can tell she's really sad about it."

He chuckled, "Sorry. Forgot to tell you that she won't eat without permission. Say to her, 'Lacey, OK.'"

Lacey must have heard Geraint's voice and permission with her big furry ears. She popped up off the floor and dug her whole face into her dog food.

I still had so much to learn.

*

*

Geraint

*

I did feel terrible about leaving Kelsea hanging the way I did with Lacey. My dog is such a good girl, I wasn't surprised she'd refuse to eat. But I could imagine both girls in distress over how I forgot a simple yet important instruction.

When I got to Kelsea's to pick up Lacey, I was beat. A hot, sweaty factory, bookended by hours of bumper to bumper traffic on the US side, white knuckle driving on the Mexico side that resembled a war zone with potholes, crumbling sketchy asphalt, Federales in pickup trucks with a heavy machine gun mounted to their truck bed, and heavily armed masked men in the back minding their ride. Stressful. Exhausting.

Kelsea invited me in and I made my way over to Lacey who was laying in the living room doggie bed. Lacey lifted her head and made an audible yawn before laying it back down. I did at least get three solid tail wags which all thumped the floor loudly, so I know she was glad to see me.

Kelsea laughed, "Not a night person, I came to learn."

I chuckled, tiredly. "Nope. If we're up after the sun goes down she starts to give me the stares, willing us to go upstairs to bed. And if we don't, she gets a little grumpy."

Kelsea laughed, "Yeah. I know. Now. I thought she was mad at me."

"Lacy? Mad? It's not in her nature."

"Good to know."

"How was she? Did she give you any trouble?"

Kelsea giggled, "Not at all. She missed you though. She was pretty mopey and looked out the window for you a lot."

"I thought that might happen."

"Um, did you find the problem at the plant?"

I rolled my eyes feigning disbelief, "Yeah, they were running the A & B sides off ratio. A maintenance problem they didn't know how to fix so they just ignored it."

"Oh, no."

"Yeah. Between their 50 Quality people and all their Manufacturing Engineers, they all looked the other way."

"That sucks! Hey, I brewed a pot of coffee knowing you could use some. Let me bring you a cup, you can sit down, and then tell me all about your day. Recharge a little before you take Lacey home."

I inadvertently let out a heavy sigh, "Yeah. That sounds really good. Thanks."

*

It all snuck up on me but I'm just going to blame it on time, flying fast as it tends to do, picking up speed as Summer turns to Fall. Not that you can really tell that much in San Diego.

Kelsea and I were in a solid routine. She'd watch Lacey on Tuesdays, then on Saturdays I'd pick her up and take her with Lacey and I to the beach at low tide. There was no point in having to take two cars.

We'd have lunch or dinner together at a dog-friendly patio location (sans checkered pattern flooring), and then my place for a movie. I'd sleep on the couch, she'd take the bed, not that she'd notice until morning when she woke up. Followed by breakfast and then coffee in the hot tub.

She'd learned to bring a change of clothes and wore more sensible beach wear, but that didn't stop her from flashing me later from under my tee shirt on regular occasions.

Yeah, that was the thing. She liked my tee more than her own night wear, which I'd find out much later was usually nothing. She didn't seem to care, any sense of modesty around me evaporated.

I wasn't complaining. I liked our new normal, and at the time, it was both fun and most importantly, safe. For me.

Which was totally unfair.

What an ass I was.

*

She finally met my family. In the most extreme of circumstances.

Dad called in the wee hours of a Sunday morning, "Son. Here's the situation. Your sister started having contractions in the night and Tom took her to the hospital. She is currently dilated to 8 centimeters. Your mom and I just got to the hospital and we're in the waiting room. Got an update from Tom who says everything is fine. Except that your sister is blaming him for the contractions and for everything else she can think of." Dad chuckled at that.

I was a little groggy from the time, but also ignorant of it all. "Dad, I don't understand. What does 8 centimeters even mean?"

"It means it won't be long, son."

"I'll be right there."

"Are you sure you don't want the baby to come first and I'll call you in then?"

"No, Dad. She's my only sister."

"OK. I thought you'd say that. See you when you get here. Mom and I are in the waiting room of the maternity wing to the left of the main front doors."

I woke up Kelsea while I hurriedly changed into clean clothes from my bedroom dresser and closet, it was about 6 AM. "Hey, Sea. Sorry to wake you but I have to go. My sister is having her baby, like, right now. I'm going to be an uncle! So I have to leave you. Lacey is fed, and even took her morning shit. I'll take the Jeep and left the keys to the Mazda on the kitchen island, take it and go home whenever you want. I'm really sorry."

She sprang out of bed like a shot. "What? Oh my gosh. Can I go with you?"

I wasn't really thinking, but whatever. "OK, but you gotta hurry, we gotta go."

Of all my ex-girlfriends, not one of them could get out of bed and be ready on the turn of a dime, but to my surprise, Kelsea ran out into the garage and was ready to go before the Mazda was even fully warmed up. Impressive.

Being early on a Sunday, traffic was almost nonexistent and we made it to the hospital in no time. Well, my lead foot heavily contributed to that.

We found Mom and Dad in the waiting room, both on pins and needles over their daughter and their first ever grandchild. I introduced Kelsea, which I realized only after, by springing her on my parents like I did, they had to have assumed she was sleeping over before my mad dash to the hospital. I got a funny look from Mom, but the excitement of a baby being born just down the hallway went right back to the forefront of everyone's mind.

Kelsea went off to get us all coffees, so I got the expected from my folks. Dad started, "Robbing the cradle now are ye?"

Mom smacked him on the arm, "Leave him alone. I think she looks lovely."

"It's not like that," I defended, "she's a friend. A colleague actually."

I got the look from Mom like she didn't believe me.

"Mom, it's true. You're about to become a grandmother, let's focus on one grandchild at a time, OK?!"

Kelsea arrived with the coffee at exactly the same time as Tom bounced into the waiting room. He looked like hell, but with wide eyes and a giant smile announced, "She's here! She made it! Baby Jennifer, all 7 pounds 6 ounces of her. Baby and Momma are doing just fine. I'm so proud of Suzy."

And then Tom just lost it. Mom went to him for a hug while he wept. Then, in under a couple of minutes, Tom sucked it up and bounced back to the hospital room to support his wife and daughter. It was touching, and there were tears all around.

Tom and Suzy got about 45 more minutes of alone time with their daughter before Tom came out and asked us to meet her, two at a time. Good thing Tom showed up when he did, I thought Mom was going to explode if she had to wait any longer.

Kelsea and I were alone in the waiting room, working on our second coffees of the morning. She sat next to me and held my free hand with hers. "Big family moment, huh?"

"Yeah." I responded. "The biggest. This is bigger than when Suzy got married. I can't believe it. I'm so happy for her."

Kelsea let out a big yawn before leaning into me, still holding hands, her head pillowed against my shoulder. I think she dozed off before a beaming Mom and Dad finally emerged. Kelsea awoke and stretched.

Dad spoke gently, "Uncle Geraint, she'd like to see you now."

Kelsea didn't get up when I did, she said, "I'll wait here. Get some pictures though."

My mom got involved, "Nonsense. Go with him. Little Jenifer is the cutest little thing. Go." Kelsea naturally followed me to the room, there is no saying 'no' to my mother. I also sensed an undercurrent of a motivating factor in getting Kelsea to see the baby with me.

And see her I did. So cute. Suzy looked like she had been wrung through the wringer, and dead tired, but she was also glowing as she held the baby.

I was almost overcome by emotion of what was happening, "Wow, Sooze. Look what you made."

Suzy then became perplexed and then interested in the unknown visitor. I made the introductions and then both Kelsea and I swooned over the baby in Suzy's arms. Being an uncle, meeting my niece, seeing my sister as some kind of divine and powerful being over what she had just done, it was a moment that I'll never forget.

*

The fact that I was hitting every single red light in a row would have normally frustrated me and I'd be cursing a storm. Somehow it didn't bother me in the slightest on the drive home, navigating to drop off Kelsea at her place first.

What bothered me a little was that we drove in silence. Kelsea brooding heavily over something. I admit that I was too, my mind turning over and over. I wondered if we were thinking the same things.

I pulled into her driveway and asked if she remembered her keys. She didn't answer. Instead she unbuckled her seat belt, turned in the seat to face me, and reached over to turn off the motor with the ignition button.

She was practically expressionless, which meant, from her, something serious was afoot.

She started off in a low tone that seemed to have a growl behind her voice, "Did you ever want that? Would you ever want that? What your sister has, I mean."

I was afraid we'd get to this conversation, "What do you mean? Like a family?"

"Yes, that's exactly what I mean."

"Yeah. Sure. I thought I was going to get it too, and I watched my chances slip through my fingers every time."

"So that's just not in the cards for you then. It's that simple to you."

I sighed, not wanting this conversation at all, "I think it is that simple. I'm also not getting any younger. I'm pushing 40."

That seemed to piss her off, "Oh, brother. You gotta be kidding me. I'm the one with the biological clock, not you. You can make babies until your dick falls off. Mick Jagger had a son at age 73."

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I just kept my mouth shut. She had more to say anyway.

"So, you've sworn off relationships, sworn off love. You are going to just grow old alone. You'll never have what your sister has, your parents have, your grandparents had. No babies in your future. No family. No legacy."

Now she was pissing me off, "Yeah, well so what?! You know my history. It's just not worth it."

"Do you believe that? Because I don't. We're friends. Colleagues. Yeah, label it any way that you want. But understand this, I've gotten to know you. Really know you. You are scared you are going to get hurt again, and that is legitimate. Real. I get that. But I also know that you long for being loved. You desperately want it. You are an emotional person. You want someone to hold at night. Just try and tell me that you don't. Lacey is never going to be a substitute that will satisfy what you really want. What you really need."

I didn't want to hear any of that, even if she was a little bit right about a thing or two, but I wasn't going to bear it any longer. I turned it around and baited her, "Don't give me that shit, what about you? Is that what you want? A husband. Babies. A family? You probably want the white picket fence."

"Yes. I do. Give me all of that!"

That was the response I was waiting for and had a zinger to hammer her with, to drive a point home, only she started to cry. My words got caught in my throat.

What have I done? If I had said what I had intended, I would have hurt her beyond repair. I'm a monster.

There was a tremble behind her voice, "You want to know why... why I don't have what I want. Right? How did I get into my mid 30's and still be empty handed like I am. Well... it's different for me. Nobody wants me. Not for real. Nobody's ever wanted me. Right now, even. I'm hopelessly in love with you and you don't want me."

"Oh, Sea. No... "

She put her hand up to stop me, "It's OK. Let's just leave it at that. I just want you to know, I would never hurt you. Never. If you want to still be my friend, I'll live with that, make it good enough for me. And maybe you'll learn over time that I could never hurt you. You'll see."

At that, she slipped out the door and walked away towards her front porch.

What an asshole I am, letting her go like that. I just placed my head against the steering wheel and tried to figure out how I would repair the damage.

Until I heard a rap on my driver's side window.

I opened it and she looked so sad, "I left my keys at your place."

*

*

Kelsea

*

I got into the office and opened my e-mail, a fresh cup of coffee within arms reach on my desk, ready to start my day. In my inbox was a meeting invite for 9:00, organized by the VP of Human Resources, Kim.

Oh, shit. It's impossible for anything good to be behind that.

I was tempted to ring Geraint and see if he was involved or knew what might be up. Instead, I just sweated it out until the prescribed time.

I wasn't ready to face him yet anyway. Not after my meltdown in his car on, of all days, such a momentous time for him with his family. What a rotten thing for me to do. I'm sure I spoiled the occasion.

Right on time, I opened the 9-box and Kim was already logged in. She at least smiled at me when she bid me good morning. That had to be a good sign and I relaxed a little. Prematurely. One by one, my VP logged in, then Geraint's VP. Uh, oh. My stress level returned to maximum.

Lastly, Geraint's face showed up on my screen, followed immediately by Lacey and her usual greeting. That brought laughter from Kim, she had probably never seen the way Lacey rolls in 9-box meetings.

Kim gathered herself rather quickly, "Good morning, everyone. Thank you all for joining on short notice. I want to start out by saying that nobody is in trouble."

I took a deep breath and couldn't help but notice Geraint doing the same thing. We both knew where this was going to go now.

Kim continued, with a smile. Not that I would trust a smile from anyone in HR any more than I would a snake. "It has come to my attention, through a lot of chatter recently, that Kelsea and Geraint may be in a romantic relationship. Immediately that brings up concerns of general productivity amongst our team members, but also a potential fraternization violation."

Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit!

Only... all of the VPs were smiling. Instead, they should have looked like a parent would look at their child when caught with a hand in the cookie jar.

Geraint jumped right into defense mode, "While it is true, Kelsea and I have been spending time together outside of office hours, it is not as it might seem. I have an incredible amount of respect for Kelsea, for her knowledge and contributions to the organization. I would never do anything to hurt her career here or be a problem for her in any way. Please understand that our relationship is not romantic in nature but that of friendship. A friendship that I have grown to really cherish."

Geraint's VP jumped in, "Would you concur with that assessment, Kelsea?"

I thought my emotions would overcome me, I did my best to knock them down but I'm sure I gave away a little bit of what I was feeling. "That is true. Geraint and I are friends. I like to think that we are very good friends. I watch his dog on Tuesdays while he's in Mexico, he has nobody else to turn to on that."

Smiles all around evaporated. Geraint looked wounded.

My VP spoke up, "Friends, huh? That's a damn shame."

Geraint's VP echoed that sentiment, "Too bad. I was rooting for you two, you'd make a damn fine couple."

Kim added, "A cute one, that's for sure."

I stuttered, "Wha... what about a fraternization violation?!"

Kim laughed, "The only rule we have is no dating within the same department, of which you two are not. The rumors about you two actually forced us to review the existing and then change the wording in our employee handbook to further detail that hybrid and work-from-home employees are still in the clear within that rule."

Geraint's VP laughed, "Don't know if you two know this, but my wife of 25 years, I met right here in the company."

"Then why...?" Geraint seemed to be addressing Kim directly.

She nodded in understanding, "The point of this meeting was to inform you that the two of you are not in violation of anything, but due to the level of gossip going around, we are going to send an All-Staff memo out today. It will remind your colleagues of the rules, and highlight the handbook wording changes. We thought you should be aware."

My VP then laughed, "We also had to hear if you two were dating or not. I've got $20 in the pool that says you will."

*

He said he cherished our friendship. Cherished. Yet, still, the word 'friend' hung high in the air, like anything more was just out of reach.

And why did he emote pain on his face when I confirmed we were just friends?

I was relieved when I got the alert that Geraint was trying to reach me. I had worried that if I tried to reach him, he wouldn't pick up. I even wondered if he'd ghost me after the last 24 hours of hurt feelings, despite what he admitted to our executives.

I closed my office door and then picked up the call. His face filled my screen. He wore a tired smile. At least it was a smile.

"Hey," I said.

"Hey," he responded.

"How's your sister and the baby?"

"I just heard from Mom. Sounds like Suzy didn't get a lot of sleep in the hospital but everyone is doing OK. They're checking out of the hospital now and will be bringing home the baby in a couple of hours. I understand they're practically scared to death."

"Yeah. I bet. I would be too. Hey, wait. Where's Lacey?"

"I put her in the backyard. I didn't have the energy to wrestle with her for this call." He looked over his shoulder like he was missing something and then back at me in the camera, "Um. That was a pretty weird meeting this morning."

I took a deep breath, "Yeah. I thought I was going to get fired."

He made a real smile, "Naw. Not our group. Management is pretty reasonable, the worst we'd ever get would be a slap on the hand and a lecture. Trust me."

I wasn't so sure, but, whatever. It worked out.

I unbit my lower lip, "Geraint. Are you still going to drop Lacey off tomorrow morning?"

"That's really why I was calling. Are you still OK with me doing that?"

"Yes. Please do. And... I'm really sorry for the things I said yesterday. In the car. I'm so sorry. I worried you might not ever speak to me again."

"What do you mean?! I'm the one that needs to apologize. I shouldn't have talked to you like that. I made you cry. I never wanted to do that, I feel just terrible. I keep going over it in my head wondering how I could have done that. You are the last person I'd ever want to hurt. I'm so sorry."

We just stared at each other through our cameras and computer screens.

I finally summoned the courage to ask, "Can we just pretend it never happened? Go back to the way we were?"

"I'd really like that, Sea. For now. Lacey and I will see you tomorrow morning."

*

While we both pretended it never happened, things were different. He was different. When he dropped Lacey off, his greeting hug felt different too. He seemed sad. Maybe more like... concerned.

Then on Saturday, when he picked me up and took me to the beach, he was quiet. Serious-like. I got the impression he was feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Then on our walk along the coast, he held my hand. Just like he had done the day I wore my itsy-bitsy bikini.

The regular Geraint made an appearance at our late lunch over a margarita, a burrito, and the latest good news of how his sister and mother were faring over his baby niece.

I thought he might just drop me off at home after, but instead he drove me to his place. It was dusk by then and I excused myself to his bedroom to change, finding his tee shirt, my favorite, folded on the end of the bed waiting for me. Expecting me to find it. As if to say that everything would be back to normal.

I found him downstairs in the kitchen, to the background noise of crunch, crunch, crunch as Lacey eagerly wolfed down her dinner.

He asked if I wanted anything, and I shook my head, "Not really. Thanks."

He put the beers he had pulled for us back in the refrigerator and withdrew two bottles of mountain spring water. We went into the living room and took opposite sides of the couch, as usual.

"Want to watch a movie?" He asked, remote in hand. Sort of expecting it.

I changed things up, "No, not tonight. I don't want to fall asleep on the couch tonight. Would you go to YouTube and find some music or something?"

He slightly scrunched his face in surprise, but it passed quickly, "Yeah. Sure."

Then Lacey changed the script on all of us. Normally she would get on the couch and lay between us, Geraint and I having our legs up to get comfy. Instead, she pushed her nose between the arm of the couch and my back.

"Hey, Lacey. What's with you?" I asked her.

She persisted, pushing until her entire head was into my back. I moved off towards Geraint's side, tried to sit in the middle. Lacey got on the couch in "my spot" and then started to stretch out, getting me to move further until Geraint made room for me and we were suddenly spooning. Sort of.

Like a swimmer, Lacey moved across the couch until she was half way between our sets of human legs, until it resembled all of us in a three way cuddle, limbs abound.

My concern and confusion all faded into a pleasurable wave of relaxation and, um, what? Ah. Joy. Yeah, that's it. I pushed into Geraint a little more and his arm went around me.

The only light in the house was coming from the television, tuned into YouTube playing a video loop of a crackling fireplace. Some sort of easy listening music or jazzy blues or something playing softly.

I sighed contently and furthered my resolve to not fall asleep. I mean, I couldn't really, my mind and emotions were producing a trace amount of adrenalin that made me feel tingly all over.

Geraint let out a little satisfied chuckle, "Smart dog."

I confirmed, "Agreed. The best."

He praised his animal, "Good girl, Lacey. Good girl."

Lacey grunted and then made an exaggerated deep yawn.

We listened to the pop and crackle of the virtual fireplace interspersed within the music for a while, in peace, until Geraint broke it. "You were right, you know. About everything."

I feigned ignorance, "About what?"

"What you said in the car."

"Oh."

"I do want to be loved."

"I know you do."

"Do you really love me?"

"I do. Very much. And I meant what I said. I would never hurt you."

His arm gave me a reassuring squeeze, "I believe that. All of it."

I turned my head to get a good look at his handsome face. He was looking at me like I was something special to him and I felt a wave of warmth ripple through me.

He kissed my head and I believe his lips would have landed on mine if he could have reached them, but we were sort of locked in place, anchored by Lacey.

I smiled at him and asked, "What changed your mind?"

"Our toothbrushes."

I giggled, "Huh?"

He chuckled at my reaction. "I'm not sure when I really noticed, but once I did, I couldn't stop thinking. For so long, my toothbrush was alone in the glass on my bathroom sink and suddenly there were two. That made me happy. Everytime I used my toothbrush, it felt good to put it back next to yours. Only... they were together, while we were not. After you put me in my place, in your driveway, that night, I started to wonder, 'what if there was only one toothbrush again?'. Mine. Alone. I didn't like the feeling."

I turned my head back to face the fake fire as I couldn't hold my neck that way any longer but also to let his words sink in. I processed it quickly and almost cried, but I felt another warm tingly wave run through me.

Could this really be happening?!

Lacey sensed something and got up, moving to what used to be my side of the couch, and turned a full circle before lying down into the form of a chocolate donut.

It allowed me to turn my body and face Geraint's. Our limbs entwined into a tangled embrace. An awkward one, but an embrace nonetheless.

I felt him sigh and he looked into my eyes. They were kind and loving.

Gently, and with some caution behind his words, he said, "Sea. You said that nobody wants you. That I don't want you. That's not true, and I'm sorry about the way I showed it, but I do want you. I so badly want you."

I fought to hold back tears and asked, knowing, "Really?"

He smiled and nodded, "Really. I want what my toothbrush has."

*

We kissed. Gently at first until passions gradually rose, at times even running the gamut of hard, furious, desperate. Full of need and expression.

We kissed until the fireplace video abruptly ended. We pulled back, my lips and tongue were a little sore and still throbbing.

YouTube auto-started another video, it was of extreme mountain biking wrecks. How it landed on that after what we had on, I'll never understand but Geraint found the remote and killed the television and the room went dark.

After crawling over my body, trying very hard not to crush me in the process, he turned on a lamp casting a soft glow. He asked me to wait for him and not move while he let Lacey out for her last piss of the night. I was fine with not moving, I was practically numb with the revelation over what had just happened.

I gave him what I hoped was a sexy smile when he returned but I don't think it registered, he had a determined look of a man on a mission. With two strong arms he tunneled underneath me on the couch and lifted me into his arms before making his way towards the staircase.

I put my arms around his neck and enjoyed the ride. I asked, "Aren't I heavy?"

He grinned but didn't show lapse in the seriousness of what he was doing. Face full of concentration. "You're light as a feather but it would be easier if I threw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Then I wouldn't have to worry about hitting your head on a railing or door frame."

"Who are you calling a potato?" I teased.

"A very cute potato."

I giggled and then asked the obvious, "Is this how you take me to bed every time I fall asleep on you?"

"Um, yeah."

"Has the shirt ever ridden up on me like this before?" I was fully exposed from just below my belly button to my toes.

He got a nervous expression but still smiled, "Every time."

"Do you ever look?"

He paused with only a couple steps left to go atop the staircase, and then resumed his ascent. "It's growing back nicely down there."

I giggled and pulled myself towards him to plant a quick, approving kiss on his lips.

*

He laid me gently on his bed. After giving me a quick kiss, he turned as if he was going to leave the room. I jumped up off the bed in a near panic. "Wait. Where are you going?"

He turned back to me, "Downstairs. I want to bring you a bottle of water for the nightstand."

I took a step forward, still worried, "Then what? You're not going to sleep on the couch are you?"

He smiled, "Not if you don't want me to."

"I don't want you to."

He asked cautiously, "Are you sure?"

I didn't hesitate, "Very."

Now he suddenly looked nervous, "OK. Um. I'll be right back."

"Don't take too long, OK?"

"Yeah. Sure."

He left for the kitchen and I took the time to use the bathroom, peeing without concern that I had left the door wide open. I then reached for my toothbrush in the glass by the sink.

Which was right next to Geraint's, the two forming an 'X' in perfect symmetry.

It made me smile. Would a toothbrush really be responsible for changing my life?

*

*

Geraint

*

I'm sure that nobody would believe that I could remain calm and not go animal when slipping into bed with a beautiful and stark naked woman that I was so seriously lusting after. I still don't believe it myself, but there was just something about the evening. About deep feelings coming to the surface. Almost overwhelming but at the same time comfortable. Peaceful.

Exhausting. I sensed she was feeling that too.

I could have pressed it. She would have given it up to me if I had. Something told me that this night, well, I was just meant to hold her. And that would be more than enough.

She gave me a quick kiss goodnight and then rolled over, tucking herself into me, little spoon to my big spoon. Feeling her breathing rise and fall. Skin on skin. It felt good. I knew I wanted to feel like this every night from then on.

Yet, I had been here before. I had felt the contentment many times before it all shattered to pieces.

I don't know how she knew, but she did.

I felt her body stiffen, "Don't. Do not overthink this into the future. Enjoy the feeling right now. Let's sleep on this. Meet me in my dreams tonight, I'll be waiting for you and we'll walk an empty beach that is just for us. When we wake up in the morning, everything will be crystal clear. I promise. Our future can wait until tomorrow. OK?"

Maybe it was the soothing sound of her voice but I relaxed and complied, "OK. Sweet dreams."

She relaxed in my arms and somehow, I did fall asleep. And I did something I hadn't done since I was a younger man, sleeping through the entire night without waking up.

I generally wake long before my alarm, which I only set on weekdays anyway, but instead I was woken by Lacey just before dawn. She needed to do her business, and was surely looking forward to breakfast right after.

That wasn't the only thing unusual about the morning. Waking from a slobbery dog kiss was one thing, but coming to realize a woman's hand was in my boxers, fully holding my morning wood was altogether new.

I tried to remove Kelsea's hand and get up without waking her, but she was already well awake and welcomed me into awareness with a few strokes before I maneuvered away. As I was putting on my robe for warmth, she asked if I was going to come back. I told her I would.

She groaned, "Hurry. Don't be long."

Lacey stretched her entire body in the dramatic fashion as she is wont to do, getting her extremities ready to use the stairway. Then to my amusement, and unbeknownst of one another, Kelsea stretched too, reaching her limbs across the mattress in all directions, her bare breasts popping into view in the process.

I made quick work of the morning routine, a piss for Lacey plus a bonus shit, a piss for me in the downstairs half bath, and a scoop of doggie food in her bowl.

I went back upstairs two steps at a time. A beautifully naked Kelsea was just coming out of my bathroom as I got into the room and she practically dove back under the covers. I shed the robe and joined her.

She shivered, "Brrr," before wiggling into me and I wrapped my arms around her.

Then she turned in my arms and I buried my face into her neck. She whispered, wanting to tell me a secret, "Something you wouldn't know about me that I'm going to tell you, but have never shared with anyone. I'm never more aroused than first thing in the morning. And your boner really got me going."

She maneuvered herself to grind her pussy against my boxers, my erection came right back to full mast.

"Are you sure?" I asked with caution.

She climbed up and sucked my earlobe into her mouth. Then more whispers in my ear, "I've never been more sure. I told you things would be clearer in the morning. Something else. I'm safe. You can finish inside me. I want you to."

Holy shit!

She then lifted her head to look at me, taking care to not blend our mutual morning breath. "Um, Geraint. Do you have... um... do you have any lube?"

"Oh, honey. I'm sorry. I don't."

She looked a little worried, "That's OK. I can take it."

"Is there a problem?"

"No. Um, not really. It's just that, you are kinda big and, well... Don't worry. I'll be alright. I really want you."

I had a solution. It wasn't exactly my first rodeo. "I want you too. I know what to do."

I maneuvered her tiny form onto her back in the center of the bed and I moved lower, giving some attention to her nipples on each breast just as she had sucked on my earlobes.

I then made my way between her legs, she tried to stop my descent. "Noooo. You don't have to do that. I want you in me."

I assured her, "Shh. I'll make you good and slippery. I've wanted this for a long time." She didn't resist after that and let go of my arms.

Positioned between her thighs I finally got a good, up close look at her sex. It was beautiful, more than any pretty flower. I didn't linger too long and got down to it. I licked up and down, parallel and just off to the sides of her slit before converging on her centerline. Her scent was exquisite, but the texture of her lips, soft and accepting, gifting me her flavor that I knew I'd want again and again. With my fingers making an assist, spit got spread around until things started opening up and then went to all vertical licks between her lips.

I don't know why she had been worried, she was super wet from the start and had already generated an ample amount of natural lube on her own. Nevertheless, I slobbered everything down there until she was dripping and my face was slick. I moved my concentration to the main target, making circular rounds of my tongue on her clitty which was hard and pronounced. She moaned and shivered, lightly bucking. I slowly inserted a finger and then a second into her tunnel and curled them until finding the internal button, knowing I reached it by touch and when she audibly whimpered. Massaging that with my fingers and her pearl with my tongue proved to be a rather quick trigger that brought her to climax in the cutest trembling fashion that seemed to go on forever. It was priceless.

She panted while I tried to lay on more wetness, though she appeared completely saturated. She pulled on me to motion me upward between her well spread legs and I lost my boxers in the process.

"That was incredible. Wow." She said, dreamily with a smile of genuine satisfaction.

I was positioned above her, lined up in perfect missionary readiness. I asked, "May I?"

"Oh, yes. Please."

I entered her slowly, no guidance necessary. Wet enough, that was for sure, but tight and silky and warm. It was Heaven on Earth.

She voiced a clear, "Ohhh!" And then in nearly a whimper with a lower octave, "Ohhhhhh," as I went as close to balls deep as this position would allow.

I asked, "You OK?"

"Yeah, I'm gooood." She reinforced that by giving me an impish smile, her eyes barely open when she clamped down with some kegel assist like I had never felt before.

With that, I slowly began to piston until I found a rhythm that felt just right, and soon enough she made little movements in thrusting up against me.

I was in a happy, blissful place, with Kelsea stringing together more whispers of, "Ohh," when all hell broke loose. The bedroom door slammed open in a loud bang.

Kelsea screamed and tried to thrash herself away from any danger but my body was positioned like a cage, holding her to the mattress.

"It's OK, it's OK," I tried to reassure her while pausing my movements. "It's Lacey. She does that all the time."

Sure enough, Lacey was in a dog sit at the side of the bed, looking into Kelsey's wide open eyes. Happily wagging her tongue, with her belly full of breakfast.

It was one of her mannerisms that whenever Lacey enters a room with a half open door, she uses her nose and opens it like a SWAT team breaking into a drug bust. Which Kelsea already knew, but even I was never really ready for it when it happened.

Kelsea took a deep breath that I felt in my own chest, "Oh my gawd! That scared me!"

"Sorry." It was all I could say.

I resumed making love to her until she got my attention again, "Geraint. Is she going to watch us the whole time?" Lacey had laid her jowls on the bed and was pushing forward trying to get a lick of Kelsea's face, just short but impressively reaching out with her long tongue making air kisses.

I chuckled, "I don't really know, I've never had anyone over since I got her. I'm sorry." I addressed the dog in the room, "Lacey, go lie down."

Lacey went over to her bed in the corner and made a couple of circles before forming into a chocolate donut. While she did so, she emoted disappointment audibly as if Kelsea and I were playfully roughhousing and leaving her out.

"Good girl," I praised.

Kelsea gave me a pleased smile that quickly turned wicked, "Good boy."

I moved off of Kelsea and lay on my side next to her. From under her knee, I raised her leg closest to me and moved it over my hip, allowing me to line up our sexes once again, but now in kind of a scissors position. I was impressed with her flexibility, she spread even wider than I would have imagined possible, I could almost kiss her kneecap. I resumed moving my cock in and out, but now was able to get a better look at her face that had been mostly hidden underneath me while in missionary. It also hid her view from Lacey in the corner which hopefully made her more comfortable that she wasn't being watched while we screwed. But most importantly it gave my fingers access to Kelsea's clitty and I could kiss her neck occasionally at the same time for maximum sensory overload.

While finding a pleasurable rhythm with my cock deep inside, I used all fingers of my left hand, pinching and alternately playing her pearl. The string of ohh's returned while her pelvis rocked with me in time. I savored the moment and the feeling. She was perfect.

I tried to tell her so with my eyes. What stared back at me was a look of joy. And unmistakably, it was a look of love.

Our dance seemed to go on and on until I felt myself building to a finish. Her ohh's then went silent but her mouth still formed them. She closed her eyes, at first softly until her entire face scrunched up and her entire body shook. That was more than I could take and I pulsed inside of her in our closely timed ecstasy. Both of us twitching with happy aftershocks for some time after.

*

We had definitely turned a corner. When that happens, naturally, the view changes. We were exposing ourselves to a completely new landscape. The effects were felt immediately.

The most obvious was also the most pleasurable. Turns out, and I would have never guessed it before, Kelsea is quite randy. And quite a lot of fun at that. Sometimes surprisingly adventurous. There were times where it was lusty, hot and heavy. Borderline animalistic. Other times, slow and sensuous, passionate and always loving.

I did my best to ensure that she always got a nookie-cookie and that I would never roll over on her after getting mine. I think she appreciated that and reciprocally put effort into making every time special for me, no matter how we did it.

Lacey got with the program too. She would instantly go lie down somewhere whenever the horny mood surfaced between Kelsea and I, and emote a half-yawn and half-groan. I took that to be labrador speak for, "Oh, brother. Here they go again."

*

Kelsea took me to meet her parents for a regularly scheduled family dinner. I even got to meet her sister's doctor husband which I understood was a rare opportunity due to his brutal schedule at the hospital. All were very nice and I couldn't help but think, relationship wise, that it wasn't far from the love I knew with my own family.

It was at that point I realized that the dial was now set to 'serious' and there would be no turning back.

That made us a 'thing' and now if she broke my heart it was going to be devastating. Worse than ever before.

I don't know how, but one night she sensed that and it pissed her off. My mind was in the wrong place when it came to a head.

"Why!" She broke through to me while we lay on the couch, midway through a Betty Grable dance number on the TV. "Pause the movie!"

She readjusted herself until she was sitting up straight and we were brought to eye level with each other. She took a deep breath and then lit into me, "What goes through your head sometimes? I've been here for you, I'll follow you to the end of the Earth, take a bullet for you even. I love you so much." Her tone went from angry to sadness. "I don't know what else to do. To prove to you that I'll always be there for you. That I'll never hurt you."

I believed her. Instantly angry with myself for waiting so long, I did what was seriously overdue.

"Sea. I know. And I'm sorry it took me so long to say it out loud, but I love you. Really love you. Deeply, hopelessly, and for forever, I love you."

She turned and cupped my cheek with her hand. "I've known that. For a long time even. But it's wonderful to hear you say it."

Her expression changed from sweet to serious again, "Just please. Please do this one thing. For me. Please try, try to stop thinking that I'm going to reject you. I'm not like the others, please don't dwell on the past. Now is the time to think about the future. Our future. Together."

She was right about everything and didn't deserve my moodiness. "OK. I promise."

She ran her fingers through my hair, "Good." Then she started pawing at the waistline of my sweatpants. "There's no time to go upstairs. Now. Right here, let me show you how much I love you. What our future is going to feel like. Together."

*

*

Kelsea

*

Was it in March? No. Maybe April. It doesn't matter. Whenever it was when it happened, it had been a long night. One that started out particularly satisfying, which was then forgotten when things went from bad to worse in the wee hours of the morning.

Geraint was staying over at my place on a Monday night. He'd leave for Mexico in the morning. That became a part of our routine ever since we were now greeting and parting from each other in kisses and 'I love you'. That and other changes in our routine, namely more time together, put me over the moon.

I had made him a nice dinner, his favorite, and he even helped in the kitchen. I made note of the fact that he was getting better at being my sous chef, coming a long way from when he looked at a kitchen more like a chemistry lab and I thought he was absolutely hopeless.

Except for grabbing my butt. That he excelled at right away, and the close proximity with each other in the kitchen made it an easy target. Why he couldn't keep his hands off of it I'll never know.

I also hope he'll never stop. I like it. It makes me happy.

In fact, everything he does makes me happy. I've never been happier in my life.

With a glance, he caught me thinking about that while he was chopping carrots.

"Why are you grinning like that?" he asked.

I teased, "Nevermind that, pay attention to the knife. Don't want you to chop your fingers off when I'm going to ask you to use them on me later."

He chuckled, "Good thing for you that I'm finished," then he goosed my ass on his way to place the cutting board in the sink.

We went to bed early. It went unsaid, but it could have either been that Geraint was facing a long day ahead or that he wanted to use those fingers on me in very satisfying ways before sleep came to us. Which he did. Damn, he could play my body like a virtuoso. We made love and I expressed my love and happiness to all sensitive parts of him while he returned the same attention.

My last thought of the night as sleep overtook me was, "Life is good."

Then it wasn't. Not when waking up to Lacy throwing up in the corner of my bedroom at 2 AM.

We scrambled together but separately, a naked Geraint scooping up Lacey to get her outside, while I, also naked, cleaned up the mess. Undigested, I took note that the kibble looked solid and unchewed, like the same way it might have looked going down.

Geraint didn't return for quite a while. When he did he said, "She puked two more times in the backyard. I hope your neighbors didn't see me when I hosed it down."

A sad and tired looking Lacey slowly made her way to her bed. I scratched her head and told her, "I'm sorry you don't feel well. I hope you feel better." I got a whiney grunt in reply.

It all repeated two hours later. And again two hours after that. She had to have puked more than just her dinner. Where was it all coming from?

By then, there was no point in going back to bed. We got ready for our day and then shared a pot of coffee before Geraint had to go. All the time discussing how Lacey had a runny shit and left her breakfast in the bowl. Something a healthy labrador would never do.

Geraint thought he would stay home for the day but was troubled in making that decision.

"How many sick days do you have on the books? I've never known you to take one." I asked.

He replied, "I've never taken a 'sick day' in my life."

"Well, then take one today." I kissed him and took his mug for a refill.

"Yeah, OK. Let's just keep an eye on her for a bit."

"I was thinking. I have some chicken in the fridge that I can brown up and I can cook some rice. Both are good for upset tummies."

Lacey couldn't pass up on that and tried to wolf it down like it was the greatest day of her life. Until the last morsel came back up in reverse and across the kitchen floor, not ten minutes after she had finished.

The poor animal seemed listless and just laid down all morning. Surely dehydrated, she finally got up and went to her water bowl. It didn't take, she chucked the water back up, perfectly clear on my ceramic tile flooring.

I looked at Geraint, "You know what we have to do."

Geraint used his phone and called into work sick while I used my phone to find the nearest animal hospital and let them know we were coming.

*

Twenty-four hours later we were seated in the waiting room, waiting on the veterinarian's staff who were getting Lacey ready for checking out. We were going to take her home after she overnighted in the hospital after a day of resting on an IV drip bag and whatever drugs they gave her.

The vet was not very comforting as he wasn't really sure what caused her gut to knot up, but he was certainly sure that after a two-thousand-dollar vet bill, she would be fine. We had also been prescribed a week's worth of special food.

I sat next to Geraint on a cold plastic chair, leaning into him with our arms around each other. I knew he was just a wreck. He had spent the night over at my place again, but there was very little sleep. He tossed and turned the night away in worry.

He spoke softly, "Thanks for going through this with me. I... I'm so glad you were here." That instantly warmed me.

I squeezed him in return, "Of course. I know what Lacey means to you. So, she means that much to me too and I'll always be here for you. And don't forget, I'm quite attached to that furball myself. She's responsible for putting us together."

He kissed the top of my head, "I love you."

I was going to reply in kind when the door flew open and an excited, though more subdued than normal Lacey was brought to us on a leash by a vet tech. She was wildly wagging her tail while greeting me and Geraint back and forth before remembering just where she was. She then tried to make herself small and wiggle under our legs and chairs. I understood it to mean, "Don't let them see me, I don't want to go back in there."

She was also overly happy to be home when we brought her back to Geraint's place. She laid a runny, stinky shit out in the backyard before eating from a can of prescription dog food that smelled exceptionally rank. Overpowerfully so. We had been warned by the vet about that but weren't expecting it to be just that bad.

Geraint handled all of the feeding and poo duty for a week. I tried to get involved a couple of times but nearly puked myself, gagging on the aroma from even a distance. Luckily Lacy got better. And so did Geraint.

My takeaway from the whole thing was just how deeply Geraint could care about his animal. That kind of deep caring, albeit probably slower in coming, I now felt in kind from him myself. It was a great feeling but also highlighted a new concern. Lacey wasn't going to live forever, and let's face it, none of us will, but this was a real wake-up call.

Things eventually returned to normal. Well, I mean, our new normal. Until months later, it dawned on me that things were progressing a little differently than expected.

Most notably, Geraint no longer wanted to sleep alone. Not in a clingy or needy way, but in a sad way. Like if I left his house for home because I had run out of clean clothes and bid him goodbye at his front door, he'd look like a child whose toy was being taken away.

Part of me even thought that sometimes he believed he might never see me again.

He started stretching our goodbyes out so long that he'd make my lips sore and leave them throbbing when we would finally part.

And then I'd drive home, or watch him leave my place for his own home and ache in my heart from an empty feeling of my own.

We had to have a serious talk.

*

*

Geraint

*

Something was off. Something was wrong. I worried that it was me that made it so.

I had so completely fallen in love with Kelsea that I no longer felt I could trust myself. That something inside of me was going to wreck it all.

Or maybe it would be akin to her finding out that I wasn't such a catch. She'd fall out of love with me just as fast as she fell in once she came to her senses.

I'm a nervous traveler. It is never about the journey; it has to be about the destination. I can't feel at ease until I get to where I'm going. I wanted this thing I had with her to be permanent. That permanence being the ultimate final destination. I just wanted to skip right to that.

How do I talk to her about it without scaring her off? On the one hand, I need to know for sure, but on the other, wreck it now or wreck it all later. Later sounds better if the endgame leaves me empty handed and I wouldn't want to hasten that.

My want for her had spilled so completely into need. Could the universe be so cruel as to take it away?

The Curse.

I was grappling with it all when Lacey got up, stretched, and jumped off the couch before making her way to the front door and sitting in wait. She always knew in advance when Kelsea was here.

The door opened with the spare key I had given Kelsea. She greeted an excited Lacey.

Then she looked up at me, where I was standing waiting my turn. She took one look at my face and grimaced. "Goddamnit!"

She took two long strides before wrapping me into her arms. "We have to talk. Right now. Wait. Shit. OK, we need to talk, but only after you help me unload the groceries from my car. I have ice cream in there."

*

Kelsea sighed heavily, "What? What was so important you had to show me?"

At least she squeezed my arm that was interlocked within hers while she reviewed our surroundings. A good sign, it meant I would have her attention.

After begging off our 'talk' until after I could show her something, we sat on a concrete bench only four miles from my condo. The bench was surrounded by a grassy micropark, complete with a small playground containing children loudly running amok. On a loose-leash, Lacey lay at our feet and watched the mayhem from a nice safe distance.

I summoned some courage from somewhere and replied to her question calmly and cryptically, "A husband, babies, a family. A white picket fence. Give me all of that."

She responded in confusion, "What?!" Now it was my turn to squeeze her arm. I quietly let her turn around what I had said in her mind before she got it, "Oh."

"Your words."

She nodded her head, "Our first fight. Yeah, I remember. But... I'm so confused. What are you trying to tell me?"

"Take a look around. I think you know."

She looked up at me with a smile, "It's the house, isn't it? Across the street."

I nodded, "Yeah. In the big picture, that's one part of it. And the house is for sale."

"It has a white picket fence."

"Do you know? Those are hard to find! But I found this one. Just as an example, really. It doesn't have to be this specific house though; it has to be something you like. I can put a white picket fence around anything. I do like that there's a park right here, with lots of children and families."

She looked up at me again, this time with a serious expression and tears in her eyes. "Say it. Say it Geraint. I want to hear you say it."

"What if we combined. Sold our condos, or rent them out, or whatever. We buy a house that's made for a family with a dog. And we make some babies to build that family. I saw how much it touched you when holding my niece in your arms at my sister's last weekend, well I would like to see our own little girl or boy in your arms."

Now her tears were running, but a funny smile replaced her previous expression, and she was nodding her head.

I continued, "Sea, what we're doing now isn't working anymore. We have to buy groceries for two places. Our wardrobes are split between the two condos. I'm at a point where I can't sleep when we're not in the same bed." I was running out of things to say but felt I needed to keep going, "We... we... have to keep two toothbrushes, one at each bathroom."

Kelsea giggled at that and wiped her cheeks clear of tears with the back of her hand. "OK, mister. Just stop right there."

I just couldn't, "I love you."

"And I love you, silly man." She leaned into me closer, "Didn't you forget something?"

Now it was my turn to sigh, "I was hoping you wouldn't notice. I can't ask you to marry me because I don't have a ring. I haven't asked your father for permission. I'm behind on the basics because I wasn't expecting to leapfrog things."

"You could still ask me to marry you."

"Really?"

"Yesss."

I turned as much towards her as the bench and our bodies would allow and took her hands in mine making solid eye contact. I could read in her eyes that the answer would be yes. "Sea, would you give me the honor of being my wife? Like... for... forever?"

She beamed a smile at me. "Yes." Elated, I reached in to embrace her, startling Lacey in the process, but Kelsea held me back with a hand to my chest. "But... one small thing. No... no... it's kind of a big thing."

Oh shit. I felt a chill. Still, somehow, I felt the Curse was already broken. This wasn't going to go too bad.

She chuckled, "Don't look at me like that, my love. I said yes. You heard me say that, right? Yes, I want to marry you, but I want it to happen right now. I mean, it's probably too late for today. So, tomorrow. We have to find a justice of the peace or minister or whatever it takes on short notice, I'm willing to pay premium expedite fees or whatever."

I looked at her, not fully understanding though, "Really?"

"Yes. Really. I'm telling you, lover, you need this, and I need this for you. We can have a full church wedding or whatever our mothers want, with as many family members as we can find in attendance down the road. Later. It doesn't matter when, just later. I'm thinking of your nervous system, and you need this right now. I need to know that you get the closure you need, and it can't wait. This is important for both of us. Will you do that?"

I chuckled, but in the deep recesses of my mind, I was doing flips of joy. She fully understood me and wanted to help me bypass the journey and reach the destination in advance.

I finally answered, "I would love to do that. Tomorrow then." I settled back into the bench and put my arm around Kelsea who in turn laid her head against my shoulder. I felt her totally relax like I did.

I suddenly thought about something. "Sea, didn't you have something you wanted to talk to me about?"

She giggled, "Must not have been important. I can't remember what I wanted to say now."

I asked, "Are you happy?"

"Yes. So happy. Like... like everything is completely laminar. How about perfectly laminar, like Reynolds number less than 2,040 kind of laminar."

"Nerd."

"Guilty. And you love it."

I chuckled, "That's very true."

"And you? Happy?"

"Yes. Reynold's number is less than 2,040 for me too."

Lacey put her head up on our laps, sort of in-between like, one jowl on a leg for each of us. Kelsea and I each scratched one of her ears. It was like Lacey knew we had crossed a major threshold and wanted to be a part of it all.

It was just starting to get dark out and we watched some lights come alive one at a time in the house with the white picket fence. Then bright overhead lights turned on in the park.

It seemed to have broken our silence, so I observed out loud, "What I'm thinking is that we were on the same page all along."

Kelsea gave me a quick peck on the lips, "Yeah, I think so. We just can't ever forget how important it is to communicate that."

I pulled out my phone and started working my fingers until she noticed a buzzing coming from her phone in her own pocket.

"What did you do?" She asked suspiciously.

I deadpanned, "Set up a recurring 9-Box meeting for two. I titled it Daily Affirmation to Remind You That I Love You."

"Silly." She play-punched my arm. "Will you take me home now? I really want to kiss you, and I can't do everything I want to do in front of all these children."

"I thought you'd never ask. Your place or mine?"

"It doesn't matter. Wherever you are is home to me."

*

*

Epilogue (as told by Kelsea)

*

I kept one eye on my husband who was playing in the sand with our 5-year-old daughter, Sylvia, just within the borders of our compound that we demarcated with beach blankets and sand toys, and another eye on our 3-year-old daughter, Abby, who was about to dump a plastic toy shovel full of sand on Lacey. "Abby," I warned, "don't do that, honey. Leave poor Lacey alone. She's tired from our walk."

Abby looked at me mischievously before giggling and turning the shovel of sand all over the middle of Lacey's back. Lacey yawned audibly in something that sounded a lot like a groan and sat up, allowing the sand to fall from her fur. In a loving hug, Abby's arms went around the neck of her dog who was also her best friend. Lacey showed that there were no hard feelings by swiping her large tongue across Abby's face, drawing out a squeal of delight.

It made me laugh. A cute moment that I wished I had been ready for with my phone's video camera to capture.

It was then that something caught my eye. Slowly strolling the beach with purpose, like she was on a prowl to command attention, a young woman in an almost non-existent bikini was about to walk right by my family.

This was going to be interesting. I put all of my attention on Geraint.

It didn't take long. When he finally saw her, he couldn't suppress a double take before forcing himself to look away and find my eyes with his own.

My arms were folded, and I feigned a disapproving scowl.

His guilty expression showed that he had been caught looking, before turning into a smile. "Really?!"

I couldn't help my own self and felt my face reshape into wearing a shit eating grin. We then both chuckled at each other before he moved from the toy dinosaur den he had been digging with Sylvia to sitting in a Tommy Bahama beach chair beside my own.

In a low tone out of earshot of the kids, I playfully called him out, "You dirty old man."

He rolled his eyes at me, "That was the worst example yet. That young woman is closer in age to Abby than to your age, my dear."

I made a pout face, "So you are calling me an old lady?"

He chuckled, "Hardly. You are just now reaching your prime."

"Well. Maybe next weekend I'll have to bring back my skimpy little thing out of retirement."

Geraint smiled and his eyes sort of glazed over as he replayed the memory in his mind. He gently said, "You could. I bet you'd still rock that itsy-bitsy, but please don't. I like where it is and seeing it every day."

I returned his smile. I too liked where it was. For our first wedding anniversary, I had the yellow two piece bathing suit mounted in a picture frame as a gift. On the canvas board it was attached to, I wrote, "To Geraint. Thanks for noticing me. I love you." It hangs in our bedroom. And that is where it will remain, or at least until the elastane resin threads decompose in ten thousand years.

"Mom," Sylvia called out from her sand shaped masterpiece of a hole, "what are you talking to Daddy about?"

"Just boring adult things, honey." I replied.

Still concentrating on the sand, she added, "Well I hope it wasn't about that lady in the purple bathing suit. She was almost naked!"

Geraint and I both laughed out loud at that while I prepared a fruit roll-up that Abby asked me for. She went back over to sit with Lacey to eat it, alternating with a nibble for herself and then sneaking in licks for her dog.

Gross, I know, but that's nothing compared to some of the things these little girls have done over the years. I bit my tongue, saving my nagging for bigger things.

Geraint read my mind and chuckled. "You know, you made some great kids. You did good."

I internally gushed over the compliment before returning one of my own. Sort of. "Well, you're a great dad and had something to do with it. Except for the gross things. That's all you."

"I'll cop to that."

I studied Lacey for a minute. She looked content, especially every time she got a lick of commercially compressed and artificially preserved fruit. The black fur around her muzzle had begun to turn white from her age. She still had bursts of energy at times but had significantly slowed down. Especially over this last year.

We were going to do everything we could to keep her healthy and extend her life for as long as possible.

Yet what she didn't know was that her life was about to turn upside down.

Double checking that I could talk frankly without the kids hearing, I got my husband's attention. "Geraint. I know everything is happening super fast and we still planned on tomorrow being the big surprise and everything, but do you think you could move it up. Maybe call Barbara and then pick up Bowser this afternoon instead of in the morning?"

He nodded but wanted to confirm, "Yeah, I think we could do that. What about getting a burrito and a margarita after this, crayons and coloring mats for the girls?"

"Let's just skip that. I can throw a couple frozen pizzas in the oven, and we have our favorite beer at home."

"And the big reveal you had planned for tomorrow?"

"I know. Felt like a good idea at the time, but I don't care about that anymore. Just thinking about that cute furball having to spend a night at the facility in a kennel just after getting a 'career change', it breaks my heart. Let's bring him to his new home as soon as we can. Get Lacey acclimated over the change."

He nodded his head, "Yeah. I agree. I'll call Barbara right now."

He pulled his phone out of our beach bag and started to get up until I stopped him to pull him in for a chaste kiss on the lips. "I love you."

His smile split his face, "I love you too, hot momma."

Abby saw us kiss and wanted in on the action, ambling over with puckered sticky lips, chin, and cheeks to get hers.

Geraint got the worst of it as the sticky mess transferred from child to Daddy's face, but there was plenty left over to make a mess of my own when it was my turn.

Life is like that. It's messy at times. Sometimes it's lots of little things, and at other times, painful and even tragic. Like when I had met Geraint, he had been hurt so badly he had lost any vestiges of hope at finding love.

And then it found him. When I found him. And I am thankful every day of my life because he loved me back, and he did so only after we became great friends.

He doesn't have doubts. He doesn't worry anymore that things are going to implode. Together we built our lives on a foundation of such quality bedrock that it is unshakeable. Made of love mostly, but the cement being trust, honesty, communication, and our shared values. One of those values that sits right at the top would be family.

My introspection-fest was broken when Geraint plopped back down next to me after finishing his phone call.

"Dr. Livingstone?" He asked.

"Yes, Stanley."

"Bowser is going to come home with us in a few hours."

"The white picket fence you built is really going to be tested now, keeping in two big dogs and two growing kids."

"Oh, it's strong. Don't forget that it managed to keep you from running away from home all these years."

"Indeed, Stanley. Just like a good covalent bond, creating a perfect and stable arrangement."

"Hmmm. Yes. Suddenly, my electrons are getting excited over your nuclei, Dr. Livingstone."

I giggled and responded just as silly, but in a smokey tone, "Just hearing you talk like that, I'm feeling a little fission-ey. When the kids go down tonight, I'm going to ask you to split my nucleus and release some of your neutrons in me."

He chuckled back, "I got your atomic number, baby. Fusion is going to go down tonight!"

FIN