Page 64 of The Mr. Right Checklist

As I turn off the main drag, Destiny’s smiling eyes appear in my mind, and my chest constricts. I saw enough of her checklist to know I’m not the forever guy she’s looking for. I can tell myself I’m the guy she needs, but that’s not fair to her, and I’m not even sure it’s true, because want and need are tangled together like Twizzlers.

My thoughts reaffirm my need to take a break from seeing her tonight. When she texted pictures of her walk with Molly earlier and asked what I was doing this evening, I told her I was lying low to prepare for my classes. She asked if I wanted company, and I responded honestly, saying I wanted company but needed to focus and it would be better if I was alone. I fucking hated shutting her down like that, and I loathed it even more when she responded with a sad-face emoji and immediately followed it with Good luck prepping!

I pull into my driveway and have to pry my knuckles from the steering wheel. I reach for my laptop and see the gift bag with the shirt I bought for Destiny this morning to replace the one Molly ate and a smaller bag with a gift card to a lingerie shop to replace her bra. Yeah, we need a break, but that doesn’t mean I have to be an asshole and let her go without the things my dog ruined.

As I head up to the front door, I stop cold at the sight of planters hanging over the porch railing on either side of the steps. One is overflowing with yellow and purple flowers, the other with pink and purple flowers, and hell if they don’t make the house look more inviting.

Fucking Destiny. An incredulous laugh falls from my lips as I step onto the porch and see they’re hanging from hooks, but there’s a three-inch hole in the ceiling. I shake my head and turn to go inside, nearly tripping over a rock with a pink envelope tucked beneath it.

I move the rock to the side and pick up the card on my way inside.

Molly ambushes me.

“Hey, girl. I missed you.” After giving her lots of love, I let Molly out back, and as I set my things on the table, I notice one of the chairs is pulled out, and there’s a faint stain in the middle of the cushion. Molly. I look outside and see her rolling in the grass. I head into the kitchen and grab a beer from the fridge, then open Destiny’s card, hearing each word in her sweet Southern drawl.

Fletch,

Molly said you sometimes forget she’s female and likes to be surrounded by pretty things. She wanted bows, but I held firm and let her pick out the flowers instead. I didn’t tell you this, but last Monday when I groomed her, she begged for bows and I felt like a meanie telling her no. I owed her something, and the flowers were perfect! Well . . . almost perfect. I promise to repair the hole in the porch ceiling. Please don’t hate me for that! I asked my dad what to do about it, and he gave me a hard time. Then he told me to blame it on Molly! Ha! I told you he answers me! But he did remind me that we once fixed our back porch roof together, so I can definitely fix yours with help from YouTube! I couldn’t find your ladder. Do you have one? I thought you had a shed, but nope! Where do you keep your lawn mower and your other tools? I had to stand on one of your chairs, and it got a little dirty, but I cleaned it. I couldn’t find a hammer, either, but Molly and I found a rock out back and I used that (hence the hole!). I hope the flowers make you smile enough to make up for the bad stuff!

XO, Sunshine

I imagined her reading it the same way she talks, barely taking a breath between excited sentences. I have no idea how she made a hole in the ceiling, but the idea of her hunting for a hammer and dragging a chair out front to bang a hook with a rock has me grinning like a fool.

Sunshine to a fucking flower, indeed.

I take a pull on my beer as Molly runs inside and glance at the chair as I close the door. The stain makes sense now. Why am I still smiling?

That’s why I need to take a break tonight. I’m getting too damn close.

I stalk into the kitchen to feed Molly and tug the handle on the junk drawer. There are so many cards stuffed in it, it won’t open. I stick my hand in and hold them down, forcing the drawer open. I cannot fit another card in that drawer.

Gathering the pile of cards, I head into the living room, looking for a place to put them. The green blanket Destiny cuddled beneath the other night is on the floor beside the couch with one of Molly’s elk antlers on top of it. I could have sworn I put the blanket away in the guest room. I open a drawer in the end table by the couch and drop the cards in. Out of sight, out of mind. I fold the blanket and put it away in the guest bedroom.

The fewer reminders of Destiny tonight, the less I’ll miss her.

As I head back down the hall, I realize I should thank her for the flowers.

No. I can thank her tomorrow. I’m taking a break tonight.

That makes me feel like an ungrateful dick. I’ll just keep it short so I can get on with my night.

Fletch:

Hey, sunshine. Thanks for the beautiful flowers. Molly definitely seems happier now that we have them.

Destiny:

I’m so glad! Sorry about the chair and the hole in the porch ceiling.

Destiny:

Fletch:

No worries. I’ll get the cushion cover dry-cleaned, and I know a guy who can fix the porch.

Destiny:

You know a guy? Is that your cute way of saying you can fix the porch?