As Molly and I stare at each other, an awkward silence stretches between us. "Are you sure you're alright?" I finally ask. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

That's putting it mildly. Her face is so pale, you'd think the Titanic and its spectral passengers just washed up on South Beach.

She gives me a crooked half-smile and eyes Sonny wearily, who's now laying on the floor by my feet. "I've just never been responsible for another living thing before. I can't even keep house plants," she says, nodding toward a petrified fern on a nearby shelf. Half a dozen crispy brown leaves lay scattered around the clay pot.

I can't fault her reservations. Caring for an animal when you're not used to having one can be a huge adjustment. Sonny requires a lot of attention, but he's pretty cool to have around. Not that I see him often. But he certainly comes with advantages. He's a loyal and entertaining companion. Keeps everyone on their toes. And because of his muscular build and intimidating features, there's no chance of an intruder breaking in. And as far as dogs go, you won't find a friendlier guy.

"As long as you keep him busy, he'll be fine. That's why Val pays the neighbor kid to walk him every day. You've got to tire him out, or he'll find his own ways to stay occupied. He destroyed Val's condo when he was a puppy."

"Awesome." Molly glances again at Sonny and swallows. "What about when I'm at work?"

"Do you have anyone who can let him out?"

She thinks for a moment. "Just my neighbor. But she's older. I wouldn't feel right asking her for help. She had a knee replacement last year and still walks with a limp."

"Yeah, probably a good call." I give her a shrug. "I could help out during my downtime. I work 24-hours on, 48 off."

She looks at me with hopeful eyes. "Really? What do you do?"

"I'm a firefighter and paramedic. It was actually my station that responded to Val's accident. I had the day off."

"I've never met a firefighter before."

"That's probably a good thing," I say with a laugh. "We're one of the last professions left that make house calls."

When Molly glances back at Sonny, I take the opportunity to check out her place. It's nice. Small, but clean. And it smells good, like lemon and lavender. Molly's nice too, with her wet hair piled high on top of her head. She's wearing gray sweatpants and a loose-fitted T-shirt that says 'Sorry I'm late, but I didn't want to come' in black bubble letters. She's cute, but not at all what I expected. Not that that's a bad thing. Val's typical tastes are obnoxiously refined. I'm not saying Molly isn't—I really can't tell. It looks like she just hopped out of the shower.

"Does he come with accessories?" she asks, interrupting my train of thought.

She's watching me. I avert my eyes from her shirt and hope she doesn't think I'm staring at her chest. "They're in my truck. Are you going to be okay if I grab them?" I say, looking from her to Sonny and back again.

"Of course. We're old friends. I'd even go as far as to say that Sonny knows me fairly intimately." But something in her smile isn't very convincing. She must be preoccupied with worrying about Val.

I unhook the leash from Sonny's collar and run out to my truck, slinging a twenty-five pound bag of dog food from the back seat over my shoulder. I prop it next to the front door and go back for his bed and toys.

After I bring everything inside, Molly and Sonny are still staring at each other from the exact same positions as when I'd left. "Getting along okay?"

"Never better." She gives me a weak laugh. "Have you seen Valentino yet? How's he doing?"

"The whole family's at the hospital now. He's not awake yet, but he's resting comfortably. Did my aunt give you his room number?"

Molly nods, the messy bun lolling around atop her head.

"So, look," I say, rubbing the back of my neck. "You sort of floored everyone with the news that you two are engaged. They want me to get the skinny."

"The skinny?"

"You know. Details." I shake my head. "We didn't even know Val was seeing anyone. But then, he's never been one to bring women home to meet the family."

"Oh." Her cheeks go pink. "What do you want to know?"

I shrug. "Where you met. How long you've been together. When he popped the question."

She visibly swallows and clears her throat. "I would see him at the beach across from his condo. He goes there every day. It sort of, um, evolved from there," she says. "And the engagement is definitely—new."

"How new?"

"New new."

I give her a slow nod. "I see."

Her face scrunches up like she's sucking on a lemon. "What?"

"That answer's a little evasive, don't you think? Don't tell me you're just as private as Val," I say with what I hope is a good-natured smile. "You've met our family—some of them, anyway. They're not the least bit shy, and Val's parents are probably more conservative than the rest. Trust me. When I say the De la Mora's will want more info, they will. Way more. Like, what-you're-planning-to-name-your-future-children more. If you don't already know this, Aunt Marisol loves babies."

Something I can't read moves across her face. "Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you, but there's not a whole lot to say."

She's choosing her words carefully. I can tell by the stubborn tilt of her chin and the tightness in her eyes.

This isn't going to work. If I don't leave here with answers, my family will hang me up by my balls.

Then I get an idea.

Once again, my gaze flicks over her clothes. "You don't have plans tonight, do you?"

"No."

"Good. Have you eaten?"

Molly shifts from one foot to the next. "My neighbor's bringing over meatloaf later. Why?"

There's only one way I'm going to get information out of her, and to do it, I'll have to assert myself in a sneaky cousin-of-her-future-husband sort of way. Getting her a little tipsy wouldn't hurt either. Just enough to loosen her tongue.

"Since we're going to be family one day, we should probably get to know each other. Do you like pizza and beer?"

She lets out a delicate snort. "Does Dolly Parton sleep on her back?"

I have to think about that for a second.

"Of course I like pizza and beer. Who doesn't?" she says just as I get the joke.

"Perfect. Cancel your meatloaf plans. We're ordering delivery."

🌴

6497 words to date.

So now you've met Valentino's cousin Leo. What do you think? Will he and Molly hit it off?? I'm thinking YES! 😆

For those submitting to ONC, how are your projects coming along? Anyone writing outside of their norm? Any stories you'd recommend? Thank you for reading!