River nodded. “I do.”

“Do you like it?” she asked.

“Absolutely.”

“My middle name is M-E-R-R-I-A-M. I’m named after mountains. What’s yours?”

“Nicolas, after my grandpa.”

She pursed her lips, less impressed. “Hmm. That’s kind of normal, I guess. Did anyone ever tease you for being named River Nicolas?”

“A few times,” he admitted. “But I’d rather be teased for having a name nobody else has than one that a ton of people have. I’m willing to bet no one else is named Juno Merriam Davis. Only you.”

Jess leaned back, taking this all in, confused by the warm wiggly feeling in her stomach.

Juno shifted on her lap, and Jess heard the tiny bell of the cat on the other side of the fence separating the restaurant patio from the apartment’s side yard. “My mom is Jessica Marie Davis,” Juno said with exaggerated sympathy. “We looked it up once, and there were four hundred of them.” She paused, and with surprisingly good comedic timing added, “In California.”

“Yeah.” He caught Jess’s eye and then smiled back at Juno. “But I bet there’s really only one person like your mom anywhere in the world.”

W h a t.

“That’s true,” Juno agreed with unbridled innocence.

He immediately looked away, clearing his throat, and Jess’s heart scrabbled up a vine, swinging wildly behind her ribs.

River pulled out his wallet, smoothly sliding four twenties into the bill folder. “I should probably head out.”

Jess smiled. “Thanks for dinner.”

“Anytime.” He smiled at Juno again, and then quickly at Jess. “I mean it.”

They stood, and Jess let her pajama-clad kid climb onto her back to be carried to bed.

At the alley, River stopped and looked over Jess’s shoulder at the apartment complex behind them. The tender tips of vines could be seen bobbing along the top of the fence. “Thanks for letting me park back here.”

“We have a guest spot. Street parking is a total drag.”

“People sit on cars out front,” Juno added. “Mr. Brooks gets so mad.”

River frowned, taking this information adorably seriously. “Does he?”

“Our neighbor,” Jess explained. “It’s a cast of characters here.”

River glanced at his watch as he reached for his car door and unlocked it. “I’m seeing that.”

Jess searched for it, she really did, but there was nothing in his tone to make her think he was complaining at all.

“Good night, Jessica Marie and Juno Merriam.”

Juno squeezed Jess’s neck. “Good night, River Nicolas.”

TWELVE

BURNED PANCAKES, ONE missing orange sneaker, cat vomit on the backpack, coffee brewing without water in the tank, and one mother yelling at her daughter that if she didn’t want to cut her hair then she needed to let Mom braid it before bed. In other words, a classic meltdown before eight a.m. Jess didn’t have a chance to look in the mirror, let alone check her email, until she’d safely dropped Juno off at school, and she was glad for it, because the notification that she and River had been asked for an interview by the San Diego Union-Tribune would have had her barfing right beside the cat.