Kim checked her watch, playing it cool.
"And I'd also like you to meet Geena."
"Geena? "
"My dog."
Kim nodded. Of course. His dog. "Um, sure," she said, turning off the car. As soon as she stepped outside she realized that she was going to have to walk through quite a bit of unshoveled snow. Her little flats--or what was left of them--would be finished off. Oh, well, she thought. All for a good cause.
Kim followed Tony to the house, trying to step into the imprints of his shoes. When he opened the door a golden retriever stood in front of them, wagging her tail in greeting.
"Hey, sweetie," Tony said, bending down to greet his pet. "This is Kim."
Kim leaned over and patted the dog. "She's adorable."
"Thank you," Tony said, glancing at Kim's feet. "Your shoes are soaked," he said. "It's no problem," she said, stomping her feet on the welcome mat.
"Give them to me," he said, adding, "I'll put them in the furnace room to dry."
She slipped off her shoes.
"And your socks," he said.
"My socks?"
He nodded.
She slipped off her socks and handed them to him, trying to ignore the chipped red nail polish on her toes.
He headed toward the furnace room with Geena following behind. As Kim listened to Tony gabbing amiably to Geena, she wandered into the room across from her and turned on the light. The large room was empty with the exception of a black leather couch placed in front of the fireplace.
"Like what I've done with it?" he said from behind her. She turned around. He was holding a pair of thick wool socks.
"Impressive."
"Here are some socks for you to wear while your shoes dry."
"Thank you." She took the socks and smiled. "Where's Geena?" "She's outside. She seems a little tired. I pay the kids in the neighborhood to come over and play with her during the day. She tells me it's been a rough one. I think they wore her out"
Kim smiled. "So what did you want my opinion on?"
"These," he said, heading toward the room across from them. He turned on the light. The dining room was empty with the exception of-an inexpensive- looking giant plastic Santa and snowman. Instead of appearing cheery, the Santa had an eerie, almost jack- o-lantern grin. And the snowman's eyes were painted so haphazardly, they appeared crossed.
All in all, they were two of the ugliest, not to mention scariest, Christmas decorations Kim had ever seen. She glanced at Tony. So much for his art appreciation.
Tony was looking at her intently, waiting for her opinion.
"Nice," she said, trying to sound sincere as she bent over to slip on the socks.
"Do you think they look good together? Or should I put one in the front and one in the back?"
God forbid they be together. One was bad enough. "Ah, one in the front, one in the back."
"Done!" he said just as the teakettle whistled. She finished pulling on her socks and followed him into the kitchen.
"What kind of tea do you like?"
"Um..." she said, staring at the wallpaper. She guessed that it had been installed by the previous owners. It was bright yellow with clusters of fruit all over.
"I've got Cinnamon Apple... and Cinnamon Apple. I also have some beer if you're interested."
"Cinnamon Apple sounds great."
She glanced at him as he pulled the tea bags out.
He handed her a cup of tea and then opened the back door, letting Geena back in. Geena walked into the room, gave them both a sniff, and then went to her bed and lay down. "What did I tell you," he said. "She's bushed. C'mon," he said, nodding for Kim to follow him. "Let's go back to the other room. I'll start a fire."
A fire? A fire was almost synonymous with romance. "I really can't stay that long," she said as she followed him back into the living room.
"It'll take a minute. If you're going to be indoors in the winter, you should have a fire."
She sat down on the couch and watched as he crumpled up some newspapers. "How long have you lived here?" she asked, looking around at the empty walls.
"I don't know. Five years or so."
"And you don't have any furniture?"
He nodded behind him. "I have a couch. Doesn't that qualify?"
"You know what they say about guys that don't have furniture," she said, sitting on the couch.
"I have a feeling I'm going to find out."
"No couch, no commitment."
"I have a couch," he repeated, lighting the fire.
"Well, you get the drift. Men who can't commit to furniture are certainly not going to be able to commit to a relationship."
He stood up and tilted his head, looking at her curiously. "I've got to admit I've never heard that before."
She shrugged her shoulders as she daintily sipped her tea.
"Just for your information," he said, leaning on the fireplace mantle, "the reason why I don't have furniture is because I was committed. And when we broke up, she got the furniture."
"Oh?" she asked as innocently as she could. "Ex- wife?"
He shook his head as he sat back down next to her. "No. Serious girlfriend. We dated for five years, lived together for one. When we split up, she got the furniture, and I got Geena. Which is exactly what I wanted."
"Oh," she said again, staring into the fire.
"Well?" he said, leaning over to look her in the eyes.
"What?"
He flashed her a sly grin. "You're going to let it drop? You're not going to ask me why it didn't work out?"