Page 71 of The Grumpy Side of Paradise

Evie walks away before I can ask what she means. I could follow her, but I don’t. This isn’t her pulling away again. She’s invited me in, and I’m going to give her all the space she needs to feel safe.

Chapter 33

Evie

Over the next week, I see Adam in passing, but that’s it. Part of the reason is that he’s at the Smith house while I’m working with Sebastian to get the electric in the right places for the features Georgia wants in her house. When I’m not there, I’m making design decisions with her over FaceTime.

The biggest reason I don’t’ see him, though, is that we don’t have contracts, so I still can’t mention the project. Georgia promises it will only be a few more days, but no contracts appear. And I need to tell Adam I’m staying and why. The why is especially important, because I think he’ll have a problem with Georgia’s project. Sebastian mentioned something about a petition to keep out new development that Adam is trying to get people to sign.

His feelings about Paradise staying exactly as it is could really complicate things between us if I’m here trying to make things different. I have to keep believing Georgia was right when she said Adam will come around.

Rosie’s barking wakes me most mornings. Now that we have a relationship, her barking is less annoying, but only slightly. The noise I can handle. It’s the reminder of who owns the dog that’s hard. Thinking of Adam not only brings up the feelings for him I’m trying to keep in check, but also the feelings toward my family that I thought were good and buried.

Adam might be less attractive to me if he wasn’t so good at fighting with his family and still loving them. The way they let their emotions out kind of has me shook. They’re not afraid to say they’re mad, and they’re not afraid to let go of being mad. My conversation with my dad the other night is the closest I’ve ever come to telling him I’ve been mad at him for almost twenty years. Instead, I just don’t talk to him.

I mean, I talk to him, but not often. And not about anything important. Sometimes I wish I could have the same kind of relationship with him that his other kids do, but they got to grow up with him around. I didn’t. I have a hard time seeing them with my dad. It always feels like they’re all a family, and I’m the outsider.

The way Adam interacts with his family gives me hope. Even if he’s not excited about why I’m here, we’ll be able to work through that difference. He’s not a person who’s okay holding a grudge forever or pretending to be okay.

Rosie is still yapping when I roll out of bed, and I’ve got a headache coming on. As I make my way to the kitchen, the barking gets louder, and I realize it’s coming from the backyard: outside, not downstairs.

The clock says seven a.m., but it’s the hazy color of dawn that comes through my windows. Most of them face west, so I don’t get a lot of sunlight, but today is especially dark. I pour myself some coffee, then pull open the blinds over the kitchen sink.

I’m greeted by a world of white. Snow covers everything, and more is gently falling. There’s at least half a foot in the backyard, which means it must have fallen all night.

Despite how pretty everything looks, I let out a groan. I’m supposed to drive to Florence today for the bathroom tile and kitchen backsplash Georgia and I picked out. The store’s storage space is limited, so they won’t hold the tile for me past today. But the thought of navigating the winding canyon to the city makes me break into a sweat.

I crane my neck toward the sound of Rosie’s barking. She’s in the back corner of the yard, and she’s wearing a different sweater than the one she’s worn before. I’m not a dog-lover by any means, but I am a sucker for dogs in sweaters. They’re just socute.Maybe because anything in a sweater seems warm and cozy instead of threatening. Freddy Krueger being the exception, obviously.

A snowball sails through the air, and Rosie, using all her might, jumps to catch it. She makes it at least a foot into the air, and the snowball bursts into her open mouth. A loud laugh comes from the back porch, a spot I can’t see. But I know who the laugh belongs to.

Rosie spins in circles, and I laugh too. With it, every thought about avoiding Adam also leaves my body. I slip on my Uggs and coat, then go to the back door. Because, obviously, I have to see Rosie’s sweater up close. And I can’t see her without seeing Adam, but I can keep a respectable distance.

I open the door and call for Rosie. Of course, she ignores me. We’re not that good of friends, and I don’t have any pork products on my person at the moment.

Adam raises his hand, “Hey, stranger.”

“Hey, yourself.” I step all the way out and shut the door behind me. I pull my coat tighter. I don’t know if it’s the cold or being closer to Adam than I have been in days that sends shivers through my whole body.

I call for Rosie again and pat my legs. She keeps playing in the snow as if I don’t exist.

“Hey. Try this.” Adam reaches into his coat pocket, then tosses me a bag.

I know what it is before I catch it. As soon as it’s in my hands, I pull out a big piece of bacon and call for Rosie again. This time, she bounds over without hesitation.

“Bound” may be an exaggeration. There’s half a foot of snow, and Rosie’s legs are six inches long. So, more like, she makes a valiant, hilarious effort that includes hopping, somersaulting, and breathing heavier than Darth Vader after smoking an entire pack of Camels.

When Rosie finally makes it to me, I’m out of breath from laughing. Rosie flops at my feet, and I crouch down to give her a well-deserved treat. As soon as she swallows it, she shakes her whole body, then paws my hand to scratch her ears. And, for the first time since I was ten years old, I question how I couldn’t like dogs.

My transformation is now complete. I’m a dog person. Or maybe I’m just an Adam’s dog person. It’s possible I could fall for any pet he might own.

Except a snake. If there’s anything I learned from all my years of Sunday School, it’s that snakes can’t be trusted.

“She’s won you over, hasn’t she?” Adam says from his porch. A smile peeks from behind his coffee mug as he takes a sip. He keeps sipping and takes his time walking from his porch to mine.

“I didn’t think it was possible, but yep, she’s got me wrapped around her little paw.” I keep my eyes on Rosie as Adam walks closer, but I feel the same frenzied anticipation that she does when bacon appears.

When Adam reaches me, he crouches down and joins in the belly scratching. “I’m surprised it took you as long as it did to fall in love with her. I made it a day before being demoted from master to subordinate in our relationship.”

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