“Well, I don’t actually work at ‘Second Date Update,’” she said, stalling. “It’s part of a morning show called Freshly Squeezed.”
“You don’t like it, do you?” Hallie asked pointedly, and Izzy laughed.
“You’re going to make a great reporter. No, not really. But you probably shouldn’t print that. Sometimes part of being a grown-up is doing things you don’t want to do.”
“And pretending you like it?”
She laughed again. “Yes, sometimes that’s the most important part. Although this expression you might have heard: ‘Fake it ’til you make it’? Sometimes that kind of works.”
To her amusement, Hallie was writing it down. “Um, you probably shouldn’t print that either,” she said.
“All right!” a voice called over the fence. “I have to say, I’m dying to see what a ‘girlie’ gate latch looks like.” Paul appeared in the open gate, wearing a polo shirt and nice dark jeans, and Izzy raised an eyebrow. Did the man not own a T-shirt or a pair of gym pants? He stopped short when he saw Hallie. “Hi there,” he said, his smile frozen in place.
Hallie didn’t answer.
“Hallie, you know Paul … er, Dr. Kirkland? Abby and Aaron’s daddy?” The girl looked at her wide-eyed, seeming to shrink back into her chair. Was she shy? She’d certainly had no problem marching in here, even though Izzy had talked to her only a few times before.
“I can come back later,” Hallie blurted out.
Maybe she was one of those children who are bashful among men—which would be natural, with her father away so much. “Let’s just pause the questions for a quick sec, okay? He’s going to help me with this latch.” Paul picked up the package from where she’d left it on the ground and scanned the back.
“You might be better off with bigger hands rather than with extra hands,” he called over. “Go ahead with whatever you two are doing. I’ll let you know if I need help.”
Izzy smiled her thanks and began unstacking the chairs. “Okay, Hallie, next question,” she said, trying to sound more patient than she felt.
“Um…” She rustled the paper of her notebook, her eyes darting anxiously to Paul and then back to Izzy. “Maybe you can just tell me about something nice or good on Second Date Update recently?”
Izzy frowned, thinking, then brightened. “Well, there was one call this week that had a sort of happy ending…”
Hallie lifted her pen.
“The story starts out pretty bad. This couple hits it off on a dating Web site, decides to go out to dinner, has a great time, the check comes, and the guy lays down his credit card and goes to use the restroom. When he gets back, she’s gone. Won’t answer her phone, and he can’t even guess at a reason.”
Hallie rolled her eyes. “Was the good news that she didn’t take his credit card with her?”
Izzy laughed. So the kid was street savvy too. “Close. It turned out she’d looked at his card and saw his last name—they’d exchanged only first names—and—”
“I know the last name of every single person in my class.”
In a universe where dating was a thing among children, they’d probably be better at it than adults were. “That’s great,” she said weakly. “It would’ve been especially helpful here, because it turned out they had the same last name.
“They were related?”
“Probably not—it was a common name. But the possibility of it creeped her out.”
Hallie looked skeptical. “Why didn’t she just tell him?”
Izzy averted her eyes. “You’ll find there are a lot of things in life that could be cleared up with a simple explanation, but never are.”
“Why?”
“Let me know if you find anyone who can answer that one.”
Paul had pulled the gate shut so he was hidden from view, but she noticed that Hallie stiffened at the sound of his muffled chuckle. She felt self-conscious too, knowing he was listening in.
“But you said it was a common name. Maybe they weren’t related. Maybe they could have dated.”
“She just didn’t think they could be sure. And even if they could, she didn’t like the idea of getting teased about the name thing through their whole relationship. She figured the best thing would be to find someone else to date.”
“Did he change her mind on the air?”
Izzy shook her head.
“But I thought you said this story was good news.”
“By Second Date Update standards, it was.”
“Why?”
“Because the reason she didn’t want to date him had nothing to do with him. He hadn’t done anything wrong.” Hallie was looking at her blankly. “Imagine bracing yourself to hear someone say, with thousands of strangers listening, what they think is wrong with you, and then hearing instead that you’re great, you just happen to have the wrong name. He seemed pretty relieved, just laughed it off.”
“He wasn’t disappointed because he still liked her?”
“Well, a little.”
Hallie looked as if she might launch the notebook across the yard. “So if it’s public, being friend-zoned against your will counts as a happy ending?”
Put that way, the call was swiftly downgraded to Izzy’s all-time least favorite, but she was in too deep now to back out.
“I think the good news angle from my perspective is that it’s rewarding to help people clear up such a simple misunderstanding. Much better than serving as a mouthpiece for the more mean-spirited stuff we hear.” Izzy forced a smile.
Hallie got to her feet. “Well, thanks anyway.”
Izzy felt as if she’d let her down. “If you’d like to come to the station with me sometime, I’m sure the Freshly Squeezed DJs would be happy to answer your questions. Sonny and Day are their names, and they’re much better at talking about this stuff than I am. I leave for work super early, though. Before the sun comes up.”
Hallie brightened, but her face quickly fell. “I’d have to miss school for that, though. It’s only weekdays, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“My mom wouldn’t go for it.”
“Why not?”
Hallie didn’t answer. “Thanks again for your help,” she said. “I’ll let myself out the front.”
Izzy watched her go, feeling a pang of guilt that she would have been more likely to call her back, to try again, if Paul hadn’t been here. With a mixture of reluctance and relief, she waited until she heard the door shut, then went to see how he was managing.
“What was that about?” he asked lightly.
“Some school project. I don’t think I was much help, unfortunately. How’s it going?”
He swung open the gate. “Ta-da!” The little door-shaped lock was perfectly in place, the giant key inside. He turned it both ways to demonstrate that it worked.
“That was too easy,” she said, grinning sheepishly. “Like asking someone else to open a jar after I’ve, uh, loosened it myself.”
“You did drill the holes right,” he said. “But this thing is ridiculously heavy to hold in place. It could be like its own fairy-sized gate instead of a lock.”
“Exactly!” she said, clapping her hands together happily, and he laughed.
“Well, you’re right that it was too easy. I’m here now, so what else you got?” He eyed the table she was about to assemble.
“Oh, you don’t have to—”
“I mean it sincerely when I say that I have nothing better to do,” he said. “Let’s pretend that’s not pathetic, okay? Plus, is that lemonade?”
“When life gives you lemons…”
Paul wound the cord around her drill and gathered the random tools scattered in the grass, and she unplugged the extension cord and went to retrieve the pieces of packaging, hiding a smile. As much energy as she’d spent telling herself that she was perfectly capable of doing these sorts of projects alone, she had to admit it was nice to have company.
“You know, most people buy outdoor furniture in the spring,” he said, crossing to her patio and throwing the tools in the box.
“Ah, but it’s on sale in the fall.”
“Fair point. But it’ll need to be moved inside for winter. Sure you want to assemble it now?”
“You know how it is, when you’re trying to get settled, to put your own stamp on a place. Plus, I’m trying to have a thing for my family.”
“What kind of thing?”