Fuzzy Logic (3 page)

Ethel clapped her hands together, “My heavens! The Farm Lady is marrying the Toilet King! I can’t wait to tell all my friends. Does he still have purple hair and wear the blue jumpsuit? I just loved those commercials with the swirling and all that.”

“I haven’t seen him in a long time. I live in Alpine Grove now.”

“That’s a pretty little town. It’s a lovely place, dear, but I can’t believe you’d want to leave the glamour of show business. You must have had such an exciting childhood, being around all those TV people. Did you actually get to meet the Farmer? What about the Tool Man? Tim Allen is his name, right? I just love that
Home Improvement
show. He is so funny.”

“No,
Home Improvement
is not filmed in San Diego. The show is set in a suburb of Detroit, but it’s filmed at a Burbank studio, I believe. My mother only worked on local children’s TV shows. But yes, I did meet Bob Myers, the Farmer.” Jan didn’t volunteer that he was also kind of a jerk. Over time, she had discovered that people didn’t appreciate having their TV idols knocked off their pedestals.

A concerned look crossed Ethel’s face and she looked over at Mr. 12D. “I think I need to use the little girl’s room now. Excuse me!”

Jan closed her eyes. The row of seats moved as Ethel reached up, hauled on the back of 11E in front of her, and levered herself out of her seat. Seeing the woman’s urgency, Mr. 12D quickly hopped out into the aisle to get out of Ethel’s way.

Jan sat up straight and turned to peer down the aisle toward the back of the plane. What had Ethel said to the flight attendant to cause her to hustle toward the galley? Leaning back again, Jan closed her eyes and willed herself not to open them for any reason. Maybe Ethel would be gone long enough for her to feign sleep for the duration of the flight. It was worth a try.

Jan stood at the doorway of her mother’s apartment. The bougainvillea plants were in bloom and magenta flowers cascaded down the stairway toward the unit below. Although the flowers were pretty, the generic apartment was a sharp contrast to the cute, funky bungalow in the little beach community where she and her mother had lived years ago. This apartment complex seemed sterile and plastic by comparison.

She raised her hand to knock on the door, but before her knuckles hit the wood, the door flew open and her mother stood in the doorway. “Janelle! You’re here!” The tall, lithe woman was wearing a peacock-colored tie-dyed dress and had a ring of flowers in her purplish red hair. She reached out and grabbed Jan by the elbow, pulling her inside. Candles and incense were burning, and the smoke irritated Jan’s lungs. “Hi Mom,” she coughed as she stumbled alongside her mother into the dimly lit room.

“We’re doing a cleansing of my space so I can be ready for what’s next. Do you remember Skye? She’s here to do a reading. I want to be better prepared this time. And Zoe over there is in charge of the smudge sticks, so we don’t burn the place down. We don’t want that to happen again, either.”

Jan nodded her head in acknowledgment. From past events, she knew more firemen than she probably should. “Do you need any help with anything, Mom?”

“Could you take the suitcase? After we finish the reading here, we’ll be ready to head over to the gardens for the ceremony.”

Jan looked over at the suitcase that contained her mother’s collection of sock puppets. She had spent a lot of time hauling that thing around, and she held a special animosity for the contents within. Intellectually, it was stupid to be jealous of a bunch of old socks, but they were more than just laundry, in this case.

“Okay, Mom. I’ll meet you there.” She turned to pick up the suitcase and with her free hand waved toward the other women. “Good luck! Make sure she doesn’t forget anything important.” When Angie had married Nick, she had forgotten the rings, and Jan was enlisted to run over to the local quick mart to get makeshift wedding bands from a gumball machine. Fifteen quarters later, the guy at the counter was starting to give her odd looks, but she finally had two rings and thirteen creepy molded-plastic animals. Yes, arriving the day of the wedding ceremony this time was cutting it close, but experience was a merciless teacher. The less time Jan spent with her mother, the better.

As she walked back down the stairs, Jan heard the sound of kids playing in the pool. Somehow she had managed to miss out on a lot of the fun of living in San Diego. When she was a kid, she never splashed around playing Marco Polo or hung out at the beach like everyone else. Maybe it was because she was too busy. When Mom was at work late taping shows, or out with her latest man, Jan was the one who had to walk to the grocery store or else there wouldn’t be anything for dinner. Somebody had to do it. Between that and her schoolwork, it seemed like she hadn’t had much free time.

She shook her head. Best not to dwell on the past. She should probably be more excited about the wedding. But since the Toilet King was about to become husband number six (or was it seven?), it was getting more difficult to muster up enthusiasm for the whole nuptial process. Given her mother’s attire and the location, the theme of this wedding appeared to be reminiscent of wedding number three, which had sported a bit of a flower-child-hippie vibe.

Maybe Mom had run out of ideas, so it was time to start recycling old ones. Or maybe she just forgot. During the dreadful Richard phase, there was a lot of that kind of generalized distraction. And to make things even more confusing, right before the wedding Richard had changed his name to Wambleesha because it meant white eagle, which he thought was “most excellent.” At the time, Jan had spent quite a bit of time in her room devising her own significantly less majestic definitions for the guy. But since Angie collected divorce papers like some people collect stamps, Richard/Wambleesha didn’t last long.

At the gardens, Jan got out of the car and looked out past the lush tropical vegetation toward the crisp blue coastline of the Pacific Ocean beyond. Even if the wedding was a repeat performance, the gardens were still a beautiful location for the event. She spotted a large white tent across the lawn. Grabbing the suitcase from her rental car, Jan walked past the koi ponds and marveled at the well-tended oasis. It had to be an enormous amount of work to create and maintain such attractive manicured gardens.

In the distance, a small but extremely furry polar-bear-like animal was barreling toward her. Jan mentally chastised herself; polar bears were rarely seen in Southern California. But this one was moving at high speed right toward her. She dropped the suitcase and waved her arms in an attempt to suggest that the animal turn in a different direction, preferably away from her new dress.

As the hairy thing grew closer, it became obvious that it was a dog, not a bear. Its pink tongue was flapping in the wind, and it was smiling widely. Jan corrected herself again. Neither polar bears nor dogs are able to smile.

With a final burst of enthusiasm, the dog launched off the lawn onto Jan, slamming her to the ground and knocking the wind out of her. She squeezed her eyes shut as the dog stood on her chest licking her face and ears with unadulterated joyous abandon.

Jan was less joyful about the tongue bath. She flailed her arms and struggled to remove the whirling mass of white fur from her body. Finally, she was able to roll over and push the dog off, which resulted in the distinctive sound of tearing fabric as an errant claw caught on her dress. Still spinning and wagging, the dog gave her one last slurp before running off.

Jan looked down at the remains of her dress. What had been a pretty floral scoop-neck dress now was a torn and grass-stained wreck that was better suited for the rag bag than a wedding. Somehow even her stockings were shredded. All the time she had taken with her hair and makeup earlier was a total loss. She blew a lock of her curly, reddish-blonde hair out of her mouth. So much for that chignon. Tugging at the front of her dress, she made a feeble attempt to cover various tender body parts with fabric again. It was clear she wasn’t going to be suitable for public viewing any time soon. She yanked at the remains of her hairstyle, pulling out the bobby pins and holding them in her mouth.

Hearing a panting sound above the noise of the ocean, she looked up from the sorry state of her wardrobe to find a man running toward her. He bent over in exhaustion, putting his hands on his knees. With a great exhale of breath, he asked, “Did you see a furry white dog go by here?”

Jan pulled the bobby pins out of her mouth. “Yes. I’m surveying the damage now. And I could have been seriously hurt.”

“Sorry about that. She really likes to run. And she likes people. Sometimes those two things conflict.”

“There’s about to be a wedding here. You shouldn’t have brought a dog. I don’t think they are allowed at the gardens. Didn’t you read the rules?”

“My dad is getting married, so they made an exception. My dog is participating in the wedding. Or she is supposed to be, if I can find her again.”

“Don’t you have a leash?” Jan shook her head. “I hate irresponsible pet owners. I could have been seriously hurt. And if I were afraid of dogs, I would have been terrified as well. In any case, my dress is completely ruined and the wedding starts in an hour.”

The tall man crouched down to look at Jan more closely. His eyes widened in surprise. “Wait, don’t I know you? You’re Janelle, right?”

“I prefer Jan.”

“I’m Michael. Remember? I lived in the house next door to you when we were little. My dad is marrying your mom.”

He did look vaguely familiar, and she’d known he’d have to be here somewhere because of his father. But she had hoped to avoid him. A warm flush rose to her cheeks as Jan mentally connected the well-dressed man in front of her to the obnoxious skinny neighbor kid she’d known years ago.

Now instead of gangly limbs and tousled hair, he had broad shoulders and movie-star good looks. Not quite at the exceptional level of Cary Grant maybe, because of course Cary was the ultimate perfect male, but startling, nonetheless. The warm, amused sparkle in Michael’s brown eyes was definitely exactly the same as it had been when he was a little boy. Jan nodded quickly. “Oh yes. I remember you.”

The last time Jan had seen Michael, she’d been seven or eight years old. And naked. It was laundry day and she had just put all her clothes in the washer, including the ones she had been wearing. She walked back into her bedroom carrying her laundry basket and encountered ten-year-old Michael sitting on her bed, grinning at her. She’d thrown down the basket and run screaming from the room back to the basement. She had hoped she would never see him again. Fortunately, she and her mom had moved not long afterward, and it hadn’t been too difficult to avoid the creepy kid next door.

Michael smirked and bestowed upon her the exact same sly grin she remembered from years ago, except that one of his front teeth now had a small chip in the corner. At least he wasn’t totally physically perfect. With a discerning leer, he said, “It’s been a while. You’ve filled out.”

Jan looked down at her dress. Most of the top half of her body was still exposed. She yanked a shard of floral fabric across her breast, trying to cover up the pink lacy bra that Michael seemed to be studying intently. “Yes, it
has
been a while and apparently you are still rude. But not as rude as your dog.”

Michael stood up and offered her his hand. To take it, Jan had to let go of the front of her dress, so the shredded piece of fabric flopped down listlessly to her waist. As she struggled to her feet, she looked up at him and was greeted with the same irritating leering look again.

Snatching her hand away from his, she grabbed her dress. Through clenched teeth, she said, “Thank you. I don’t suppose you happen to have an extra dress handy, do you?”

Michael ran his fingers through his wavy brown hair. “I’m fresh out of dresses. Although I do have my jacket in my car. That might keep you from causing a scandal at the wedding. Could your mom lend you something? I really need to find my dog. I’m sorry she knocked you down, but my dad is going to kill me if my dog isn’t there to do her routine.”

Gripping the front of her dress more tightly, she locked her gaze with his. “That horrible, unruly animal is doing a ‘routine’ in the wedding? You have got to be kidding me.” Why did good-looking men always have such amazing eyelashes? It was unfair. Particularly since at this point her mascara was probably on her chin by now.

With a smile he said, “Swoosie is a great dog. She’s actually really easy to train, because she loves food.”

Jan drew her brows together. “Swoosie? You have a dog named Swoosie?”

“Yeah, like the actress. Swoosie Kurtz.”

“Oh yes, I think she was in
Dangerous Liaisons
, wasn’t she?”

“I guess. I know her from TV. She’s the kind of bitchy sister on that show
Sisters
. It reminded me of my dog. Independent. Kind of obnoxious. Swoosie is a Samoyed. They’re like that.”

“I’ve read about that breed. They were originally bred by the nomadic Samoyede tribes in Northeastern Siberia. But I definitely agree with the obnoxious part.”

Michael shrugged and then turned his head to look around him. “I don’t know about Siberia, but I’ll buy into the nomadic thing. I’ve got to find her. We can go back to my car and get my jacket. Then maybe you can help me look for her.”