“Hey, speaking of the old man,” he says, his voice low, “how’s he doing?”
I’m not even sure how to answer that. I don’t want to lie to Archer, but Dean wouldn’t want me to tell anyone, even his brother, that he’s not doing well at all.
“Have you talked to him lately?” I ask.
“No. He was supposed to bring his car in for a tire rotation, but he didn’t show up,” Archer says. “I know he’s busy and all. I was just wondering if he’s okay.”
“You should call him yourself and find out,” Kelsey suggests.
Archer shrugs and picks up Kelsey’s laptop case. “Let us know if you need anything, Liv.”
“I will.”
After they’ve gone, I take out my phone and text Dean.
I love you like macaroni loves cheese.
I check my phone several times over the next hour, but there’s no answer.
“Where’s Allie?” Kelsey sits beside me on her living room sofa and reaches for one of the Chinese food containers on the coffee table. “I told her seven o’clock.”
I pick up my phone. There’s a text from Allie: Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Something came up. Have fun!
Unease flickers in my gut. Ever since I told Allie about the cancer, she’s been oddly distant, wanting only to talk about work-related issues. And in the year since I returned from Paris, she’s never missed one of our monthly girls’ nights.
Until now.
I put the phone aside. “Looks like she had to cancel.”
“Oh.” Kelsey looks faintly surprised. “Did she say why?”
“No, just that something came up.” I keep my voice light so Kelsey won’t sense something is amiss between me and Allie. “Well, more food for us anyway.”
“True.” She forks some noodles onto her plate. “And this lo mein practically gives me an orgasm.”
I grin. “Does Archer know that?”
“No, I don’t want to give him a complex. Not that he’d ever be threatened by Chinese food.”
She leans forward to pour ginger ale into our glasses. Since I’m under doctor’s orders not to drink alcohol, we’re having soda instead of our usual wine or margaritas. Aside from small concessions like that, no one has suddenly started treating me as if I’m sick, though The Moms help out with more playdates and have brought us casseroles. Kelsey and our friends Susan and Carol have planned several fun outings—to movies, dinner, an art fair—which prove to be a welcome distraction.
My friends also do not find it necessary to focus our conversations entirely on me or what I’m facing. In fact, most of the time we still talk about celebrity gossip, new books and movies, kid-related issues, and which girl is the most cray-cray on the latest episode of Millionaire Bachelor.
After we eat, Kelsey sets her empty plate on the coffee table. The front door opens and Archer comes in, a leash in one hand. Attached to the leash is a medium-sized black dog with white paws and a white circle around its left eye.
I glance from the dog to Kelsey in surprise. “I didn’t know you kept the dog.”
“We didn’t.” She looks pointedly at Archer. “Archer is supposed to be trying to find it a new home.”
“I put up fliers everywhere and called the shelter twice,” he says defensively. “No one wants him.”
“Except you,” I say.
“We’re not keeping it,” Kelsey says.
The dog barks at her.
“Easy, boy.” Archer strokes the dog’s head. “He can just hang out with me at the garage, then go with us on the road. Play up my new role as a romantic action hero taming the hardcore scientist.”
He winks at Kelsey. She scowls.
I can’t help being amused by the fact that she’s put out—not because of Archer’s new fame but because she had little to do with it. Instead it’s all about him and the dog. Who is resting his head on Archer’s knee with clear devotion.
Kelsey reaches for a fortune cookie and breaks it open, pulling out the scrap of paper to read.
“Big journeys begin with a single step,” she says. “Well, duh. Every journey begins with a single step.”
She breaks apart another cookie. After smoothing out the fortune, she reads it and goes utterly still.
“Kels?” I set my chopsticks down. “What is it?”
She lifts her head and looks at Archer. “What the…”
He gives her a slow, lazy grin.
She hands me the fortune. Printed on the pink paper is the phrase:
Marry me, storm girl.
“Aww.” My heart gets all soft and mushy. “How sweet.”
“How suspicious,” Kelsey says.
“I’m telling you, baby.” Archer doesn’t take his eyes off her. “You and I could rock the