The Foxe & the Hound

She continues leading me through the house, pointing out rooms as we pass them. We eventually make it to the kitchen and she releases me so she can take the cookies and display them artfully on a platter. I’m happy I had the forethought to add extra chocolate chips. They’ll be a hit for sure.

“I’ve met Beauty, now who’s this beast?” Diane asks, finally acknowledging Mouse, who is (thankfully) sitting at Adam’s side. If I had control of his leash, he’d be jumping all over, trying desperately to get Diane’s attention.

“This is Madeleine’s dog, Mouse,” Adam supplies, reaching down to scratch behind his ears. Mouse looks up at him affectionately and for a second, I forget that this is all a game of make-believe.

“Adam said it would be okay if we brought him,” I say, laying the blame on him just in case.

“Of course. We’re dog people!”

She steps closer to pet him and I feel I owe her a warning. “Oh! He just started puppy training, so he doesn’t have all of his manners down pat quite yet.”

As if on cue, he jumps up to lick her face. Diane laughs and bends down to get on his level, and Mouse naturally takes full advantage of this unwise move. He launches a slobber assault on her and I cringe, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

“I used to have a Bernese when I was younger,” she says wistfully.

“You did?” Adam asks before I can.

She nods and rubs Mouse’s ears. “She looked just like this when she was a puppy. Such a good dog.”

After Mouse has had enough pets to last him a lifetime, the voices outside catch Diane’s attention.

“Oh, we should head out. Everyone will want to meet Madeleine and Mouse.”

My stomach churns at the idea of meeting more family members, but then I remind myself that this doesn’t matter. There’s no pressure to impress anyone. I can be myself and relax, eat as much barbecue as the button on these jeans will allow.

“Do you want some wine before we head out, Madeleine?”

It’s early afternoon, but Diane already has a glass, so I don’t hesitate. “I’d love some.”

With wine in my hand and a beer in Adam’s, the three of us head out into the back yard. Fortunately, my fear isn’t realized—it’s not filled to the brim with family members. It’s an intimate group, just a couple sitting near a grill and two little brunette girls jumping on a trampoline. They look to be the exact same age, and even from a distance, it’s not hard to confirm that they’re twins.

“Those are my nieces,” Adam fills in. “Allie and Payton.”

“ADAM!” they squeal in unison, clamoring to get off the trampoline and run to hug their uncle. It’s an adorable sight, and then they pull back and look from me to Mouse, unsure of who they want to attack first.

The dog wins out, and I don’t really blame them. Mouse is pretty cute.

“A dog!” one of them exclaims.

“Can we pet him?” the other begs, her hands clasped in prayer. “Oh please! Can we pet him?”

“You’ll have to ask Madeleine,” Adam says, pointing to me.

They turn their gazes on me and I find green eyes the same shade as Adam’s staring up at me from pudgy-cheeked faces.

“Madeleine, may we please pet him?!”

I smile and nod. “Of course, but be careful. He gets really excited and I don’t want him to accidentally hurt you.”

They stop listening to me after ‘of course’, but Adam has enough sense to make sure nothing happens. After they’ve made their short introductions, he finally unleashes Mouse and the dog takes off, running around the massive back yard like a bat out of hell. The girls squeal and run after him, and it’s hard to tell who is more entertained by the game, the girls or Mouse.

“Well, I think we’ve found a way to keep the girls occupied for the next few hours,” Adam says, glancing over to me with a smile.

“Madeleine!” Diane calls from near the grill. “Come meet Kathy and Samuel!”

I look to Adam for backup as we head over and he steps closer, placing a possessive hand around my shoulders. It’s the first time he’s touched me. I’m hyperaware of that fact, and though my first instinct is to pull away, I don’t. Instead, I settle into the closeness as he tucks me into his side. He has just enough height on me that we fit perfectly. I feel small and delicate, cherished.

“That’s my brother and his wife,” he whispers under his breath. “Samuel and Kathy.”

I glance up at him, and he tightens his hold on my shoulder.

“Are they going to bite me?”

He smiles, and up this close, it’s torture. “No, but Kathy will think something is off if we aren’t affectionate.”

“Ohh, gotcha.”

His reminder of the proposition is like a bucket of cold water being dumped on my head, and now I want to step away and put some distance between us even more. The second I’m reminded it’s only a well-crafted lie, the fit no longer feels organic.