seen was horror. LaVonne couldn’t have known about their confrontation earlier that day. He’d clearly been shocked and, yes, horrified to run into K.O. again. Especially with the memory of her ranting in the café so fresh in his mind.
“You’re right,” LaVonne said and sat up straighter. “I shouldn’t let a silly letter upset me.”
“Right. And really, you don’t even know how much of what your college friend wrote is strictly true.” K.O. remembered the letter she’d written for Bill Mulcahy. Not exactly lies, but not the whole truth, either.
“That could be,” LaVonne murmured, but she didn’t seem convinced. “Anyway, I know better than to look to a man for happiness.” LaVonne was sounding more like her old self. “Happiness comes from within, isn’t that right, Martin?” she asked, holding her cat up. Martin dangled from her grasp, mewing plaintively. “I don’t need a man to be complete, do I?”
K.O. stood up, gathering her packages as she did. Toys and books for the twins, wrapping paper, a jar of specialty olives.
“Thanks for stopping by,” LaVonne said when K.O. started toward the door. “I feel a hundred percent better already.”
“Keep your eyes open now,” she told LaVonne. “The man in the soup could be right around the corner.” Or on the top floor of their condo building, she added silently.
“I will,” her neighbor promised and, still clutching Martin, she shut the door.
* * *
Sunday afternoon Wynn came to K.O.’s door at three, his expression morose.
“Cheer up,” she urged. “Just how bad can it be?”
“Wait until you meet Moon Puppy. Then you’ll know.”
“Come on, is your father really that bad?”
Wynn sighed deeply. “I suppose not. He’s lonely without my mother. At loose ends.”
“That’s good.” She paused, hearing what she’d said. “It’s not good that he’s lonely, but... Well, you know what I mean.” LaVonne might seem all the more attractive to him if he craved female companionship. LaVonne deserved someone who needed her, who would appreciate her and her cats and her...psychic talents.
“You ready?” he asked.
“Let me grab my coat.”
“You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“Wynn, I’m happy to,” she assured him, and she meant it.
The airport traffic was snarled, and it took two turns through the short-term parking garage to find an available space. Thankfully they’d allotted plenty of time.
Wynn had agreed to meet his father at baggage claim. No more than five minutes after they’d staked out a place near the luggage carousel, a man wearing a Hawaiian shirt, with long dark hair tied in a ponytail, walked toward them. He didn’t have a jacket or coat.
K.O. felt Wynn stiffen.
“Wynn!” The man hurried forward.
Wynn met his father halfway, with K.O. trailing behind, and briefly hugged him. “Hello, Dad.” He put his hand on K.O.’s shoulder. “This is my friend Katherine O’Connor. Katherine, this is my father, Moon Puppy Jeffries.”
Moon Puppy winced. “Delighted to meet you, Katherine,” he said politely. “But please, call me Max. I don’t go by Moon Puppy anymore.”
“Welcome to Seattle,” K.O. said, shaking hands. “I’m sorry you didn’t arrive to sunshine and warmer weather.”
“Thank you. Don’t worry, I’ve got a jacket in my bag.”
In a few minutes Max had collected his suitcase and Wynn led the way to his car. “It’s been unseasonably chilly,” K.O. said, making small talk as they took the escalator to the parking garage. Max had retrieved his jacket by then.
At the car, Wynn took the suitcase from his father and stored it in the trunk. This gave K.O. an opportunity to study father and son. She glanced at Wynn and then back at his father. After the description Wynn had given her, she’d expected something quite different. Yes, Max Jeffries looked like an old hippie, as Wynn had said, but his hair was neatly trimmed and combed. He wore clean, pressed clothes and had impeccable manners. He was an older version of Wynn and just as respectable looking, she thought. Well, except for the hair.
“It was a surprise to hear you were coming for Christmas,” Wynn commented when he got into the car.
“I figured it would be,” his father said. “I didn’t mention it earlier because I was afraid you’d find a convenient excuse for me not to come.”
So Max Jeffries was direct and honest, too. A lot like his son. K.O. liked him even more.
They chatted on the ride into Seattle, and K.O. casually invited him for cocktails the following afternoon.
“I’d enjoy that,” Wynn’s father told her.
“Katherine wants to introduce you to her neighbor, LaVonne.”
“I see,” Max said with less