Page 18 of Without a Doubt

“He doesn't look like a Scout.”

He chuckles. “What does he look like then?”

I study the dog's face, dismissing names left and right in my head until I find one that sounds right. “He looks more like a Zeus to me. He's going to be big; he needs a name that fits.”

“I like Zeus better, too.”

Emerson starts to wash him. I was right to think Scout is mischievous. He shakes four times before it's time for him to be rinsed, soaking us both and making me laugh each time.

“He's trouble,” Emerson comments with amusement.

“Don't you see what you've been missing out on all these years?”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I do.”

We work together to finish Scout until he's clean, dry, and handsome once more. Once we're all finished, we head to the truck.

“Hungry?” Emerson asks.

“I'm always up for food.”

He laughs. “What if we have breakfast for lunch?”

“Sounds good to me.”

He drives to his apartment, and I'm surprised he's going to cook. I figured we'd go to one of the many restaurants serving breakfast all day. Not that I'm upset, just surprised. I sit on a stool at the bar and watch as he moves around his kitchen.

“What can I do to help?” I ask. Sitting here while he does all the work and I watch feels wrong.

“Do you really want to help or are you asking because you don't like me doing it while you just sit there?”

“A bit of both.” I'm kind of curious as to how it'll be to help him cook.

He opens the oven to pop in some biscuits. “I'll let you help next time. How about that?”

I smile. I love hearing about the 'next time.' “Okay.” He starts the grits next. “What's your favorite thing to cook?”

“Steak,” he answers immediately. “Although, since leaving home, it's not quite as fun since I don't cook them on the grill.”

I laugh. “You're such a guy. Do you have a special way

of fixing it, too?” I tease.

“Of course. I'll have to make it next time. I'll put you in charge of the sides; how does that sound?”

“Perfect.” And it really does.

Emerson looks over at me and says, “You seem easy to please, Eva. I mean, it feels like it's easy to make you happy.” He frowns as if he's not choosing the right words. “You know what I mean?”

“Yeah. I've noticed it's easy to make you laugh.”

“That's because you're funny,” he interrupts with a chuckle.

“See! Right there. I didn't say anything funny and you still laughed a little.” Emerson shrugs. “Anyway, I try to be open to things and I think that helps. Plus, you've done some really great things, so you've helped make me happy.”

Emerson pulls out the biscuits and proceeds to make both of our plates. Finally, he asks me to do something, fix our drinks, and I do so happily. We sit down and begin eating.

“What made you choose this college?” I ask.

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