“I think you said that already.” His whole reason for the office visit subverted by the topic of trivia, Cal was starting to enjoy seeing Mitch squirm.

“Will you partner with me?” Mitch asked. “Friday nights, eight o’clock, sports bar on Taft.”

“How many people on the team?”

“Just me, and you if you’ll join me,” Mitch answered, quick to add, “I could do it by myself, but I like sharing the grand prize.”

Then why was he so desperate to have a partner?

Before answering, Cal made a show of deliberating, putting his finger to his chin, checking the calendar on his phone, then shrugging his shoulders as he said, “Sure, I have nothing better to do with my time.”

“Great!” Mitch rose up from his chair to slap Cal’s upper arm. “Good to have you aboard. Now go home to that raggedy mutt of yours.”

“Friday night, then,” Cal said as he walked backward to the door.

“And leave my sister alone,” Mitch said. “She’s just getting over the last one.” Though smiling, he had balled his hands into fists, placed them on the desktop, and leaned forward on his knuckles. “You don’t want to add to her pain.”

“Funny way to start a partnership,” Cal said, too wise to engage further. He only smiled, tipped an imaginary hat, and left the office.

So, Mitch Green and he would start seeing each other every Friday night. Well, if he was going to spend that much time with the brother, maybe he could find a way to get to know the sister. Might Bryony Green like him well enough to follow through on another walk? And if she did, what payback might her brother dish out?

“Let it go!” Cal said under his breath, and a song began to play in his head.

Hell-OH! had invited him to watch Frozen eight times before he moved to Fieldstone. He had stayed with her, beginning to end, until he knew all of the songs and most of the dialogue by heart.

He missed the little munchkin and looked forward to seeing her and the rest of his family in a few weeks. Should he hire a magician for the Halloween party? Something monstrously large would be a hit. A bouncy house? No, those things were prone to flying away. He would come up with something. Maybe he could dress Bailey as Cyndi Lauper and put an iPod on his collar with a tiny speaker. Cal burst out laughing at the image in his mind, and then wondered, Does a man’s laughter make noise if there’s no one else in the parking lot to hear him?

BRYONY’S YES

For the second day in a row, Todd arrived for work looking like a cover model for GQ. Did he want Bryony to continue to gush over him every time, or react with a subdued acceptance of his new look? She settled on, “You look nice today.”

“So do you,” Todd replied.

“Thanks.” Bryony tucked her hair behind her ear. “Hey, Todd, I want to thank you for encouraging me about the pie list. I’m taking your advice. I’m going to finish the list.”

Todd looked taken aback. “I don’t remember any adult ever doing anything I thought they should do.”

“I hope I’m not the last,” she said. “Because you have good ideas.”

“Thanks.” Todd reached for his apron. He put the neck strap over his head, and as he tied the longer straps around his waist, said, “Hey, Miss Green, if you want to make a pie with a pigeon in it, and you need some taste testers, I’m game.”

“I heard what you said.” She pointed at him and smiled. “Pigeon meat? Game?” She liked Todd, liked working with him, and was grateful to Cal for bringing them together.

They finished setting up all of the tables with time to spare. Bryony headed to the ovens. Todd stationed himself at the counter to stock the tea basket.

They were quiet for a few minutes before Todd said, “Mister Forster’s the best teacher I ever had.”

Bryony popped a tray of bagels into the oven without comment.

“Ask anybody in any of his classes,” Todd said.

“What makes him the best?” Bryony asked. She reached beside Todd for a towel to wipe down the oven door, and he moved away to allow her easier access.

“He asks about our interests and incorporates them into his lectures,” he said. “And he talks to us like we’re real people.”

“I like people treating others well, too.” She finished shining the stainless steel surface and tossed the towel into the bin between the refrigerator and storage cabinet.

“Mister Forster likes you.”

“What?” Bryony stopped moving.

Todd leaned against the counter, crossing his arms at his chest and his legs at his feet.

“I can tell by how he looks whenever he comes in here. He likes you. When I told him I’d told you about my brother, he said, ‘Wise choice.’”

There were so many things wrong with this conversation. Todd should not be talking to her like this. And she should not have such a strong response to what he said. Her heart rate increased. Heady confusion came as her thoughts bathed in euphoria mixed with rising trepidation.

She ignored Todd’s comment and readied the cash drawer for the day, counting money being the best way to calm herself.

Todd was quiet for a minute or so before saying, “I wish my father was like Mister Forster.”

His words surprised her. She stopped counting and looked at him. “Why?”

“He seems to care about everybody,” Todd said. “And I’m not just talking about students. He talks to the janitors, asks about their families, remembers the details so the next time he sees them, he can ask, ‘So how’s it going with Jay’s broken leg?’ or, ‘Did your Lorissa win the contest?’”

“How do you know what he says to other people?”

“I pay attention,” Todd answered quickly. “Most of what I’ve learned about how to get along with people came from noticing how others get along well.”

“Okay.” Bryony looked sideways at the young man. “Maybe that sounds less stalkery now.”

“Anyway,” Todd said. “I think you deserve someone like him, Miss Green. You two deserve each other.”

“What?” She stumbled over her next words. “Mister Forster and I aren’t… we don’t… we hardly know each other.”

“You can change that,” Todd said. “You should get to know him.”

“You and I shouldn’t be talking about this.” How had this happened? Maybe she had not been such a good choice as a supervisor. She should have established better boundaries, been less empathetic, a more decisive authority figure. “You need friends your own age.”

“You need to give Mister Forster a chance.”

“I agree!” Lillian emerged from the back of the store.

Of course she would show up right at that moment. Lillian had a way of turning up at opportune times, usually like a guardian angel, occasionally more like a plucky, annoying sprite.

“When did you get here?” Bryony asked.