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Chapter 10

"No Van Gogh no! Bad dog," I yelled pulling him off the counter as he slobbered over the chicken. He'd bitten into two of the chicken breasts before I could get to him. "You clever little… beast," I sighed.

I couldn't be too mad because he was a wild animal and couldn't fully live off Dog Chow and cold hot dogs.

"Here, outside," I told him, grabbing the plate, flinging the chicken outside, and shutting the door behind him. I looked at the other two left and decided to cut one in half and Paul could have the whole one. Dad and Seth could get the other halves. Thankfully they were already big pieces, but now I would have to fix something else…

And it was ten to seven! I was screaming in my head with panic. Dessert! I'd completely forgotten about dessert. Maybe we didn't need it… could I heat up Chips Ahoy! In the oven?

At seven on the dot, there was knocking on the front door. I'd been too busy finishing up dinner to notice the black truck pulling up to the house.

"Knock knock, hurry up! I'm starving. I haven't eaten all day," Seth smiled through the glass door.

"Hey guys come in." I tried my best to not stare at Paul. He was wearing a beige sweater and dark jeans and I kinda wanted to nuzzle my whole body into him like he was Snuggle the fabric softener bear.

"You haven't eaten? I told you to eat something before we came," I heard him mutter to Seth.

"Don't worry, I saw him with a club sandwich an hour ago," Dad waved them off. "Better make them eat before – otherwise your refrigerator will disappear. The place looks great… and something smells good."

"Dinner's ready if you want to sit," I waved them into the dining room.

Paul stood, rocking on his heels, with a bottle of wine in his hands. "Uh here," he held it out for me.

"Oh thank you."

"Yep…" he clapped his hands and rubbed them together. I turned around feeling so anxious and … wrong. Paul had a family? Sort of or something. I didn't know the deal and I didn't need to involve myself with him because I just got out of a relationship.

"Honey, what did you fix?" Dad looked over the table where I'd set everything out.

"Well there was more chicken, but Van Gogh got into it and so I decided to just fix a bunch of spaghetti because I know how much they can eat," I nodded at Paul and Seth.

"Where is Van Gogh? I haven't seen yet. I've got something for him."

"I hope it's not food Dad. He doesn't really deserve a treat right now." I brought out the wine and four regular glasses into the room. "Uh I hope you don't mine… I don't have any wine glasses yet."

"Oh I should have realized-" Paul started.

"No it's nice," I shook my head at him.

"Hmmm chicken," Seth drooled, sitting down.

"Wait, the big piece is Paul's," I stopped him, switching their plates.

"What, no fair!"

"There's only three pieces-"

"You get a regular piece because you've done so much for me so just take it."

"But you don't have any."

"I don't need it – I don't want it."

"Why's it yellow?" Seth stabbed his chicken for his fork.

"Here, just cut it in half," Paul sliced it in half, slipping the chicken onto my plate.

"Paul…"

"You are so stubborn!"

"Rachel, uh I think you forgot to cook this," Seth scooped up the salad.

"It's cold pea salad. It's supposed to be crunchy like that…" I frowned.

Barking sounded from the back door and Van Gogh was standing there pawing at the door. Holy swiss cheese, I had a headache and dinner was just starting.

…

Dad had bought a bright orange collar with a little engraved name tag for Van Gogh. I thought it was sweet until he mentioned it might keep people from shooting him. Then I considered buying one of those bright safety bullet proof vests for Van Gogh. Seriously I would kill someone for shooting my dog.

Seth loved the cold pea salad and Van Gogh loved his collar. Paul was quiet but ate all of his food and a good portion of the spaghetti.

Like he was reading my mind he gave me a shy look. "I'm sorry now I gave you my chicken. It was really good."

"Yeah I don't mind now either," I grinned. It was good.

"Uh oh, I think… I need to get home soon," Dad groaned rubbing his stomach. Seth jumped up from his seat, waving his hands at Paul. He tossed him the keys glaring at him, and they were gone quickly.

I blinked at Paul. "What just happened?"

"They left us alone together so that we… get stuck doing the dishes," he said with a scowl and I was sure he wasn't talking about washing dishes.

"You're not cleaning up. You can just go. It's like a five second walk to Dad's house." I pushed away from the table grabbing dirty plates.

I chose to ignore his mumbling and pulled out the aluminum foil for the leftovers.

"You don't need to help," I repeated when he followed me with a stack of plates.

He continued to ignore me and went back into the dining room.

"I hate you right now," I told him as he came back with more dishes.

"I'm crying on the inside," he looked at me with a straight face.

Then something in me snapped, and I started to cry. "Just leave uggh," I stomped my foot and turned on my heel.

"Whoa, why are you crying?" he moved in front of me blocking my path.

"I'm not crying," I cursed my eyes.

"What's in your eyes then?"

"I didn't know you had a daughter," I tried changing the subject.

"I didn't know either," he knitted his eyes at me.

"That little girl at the store?"

"Jo Ann? She's Sam and Emily's daughter. Is that why you're mad? You thought I had a daughter?"

"No, I was just curious and I was trying to change the subject!"

"Why were you trying to change the subject?"

"Why did she call you papa?"

"It's a nickname. She couldn't pronounce Paul and she was trying to say Paul Paul… so why are you crying?"

"I'm just frustrated."

"With…?"

"With… everything. I don't know. I'm a woman with stupid hormones and uncontrollable emotions," I rolled my eyes.

"So you're frustrated with everything?" he looked at me suspiciously before his eyes popped out. "Oooooh… god I'm sorry."

"What?" I looked at him confused.

"Sorry," he shook his head taking a step back. "Ss-sorry."

"Why are you being weird?"

"Because you're… frustrated," he practically whispered.

"What? …Oh! No! No no no no no, I'm not… sexually frustrated. Though my friend Carol keeps telling me I need to get laid. But no, I'm emotionally frustrated."

"I could help you… if need someone to-"

"Nooo," I yelled at him. "I don't need you!"

"I think I should leave now," he bowed his head.

"I think you should leave," I agreed.

…

That night I woke up sweating and pushing Van Gogh away from me. When Paul had suggested that he could take care of "my problem", I was flattered and surprised that he wanted to… but that didn't necessarily mean anything. Guys generally liked sex, so I would have been just an opportunity. But I was also confused because he seemed angry that maybe Dad and Seth tried to set us up and then he wanted to sex me up?

But one thing I definitely knew was that I was pissed at Paul. Because I hadn't realized that I was frustrated – so very frustrated…

AN: yikes its been almost a week since i updated - whoops. Anyway we get to meet more people next chapter

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