“So,” Anna said, pulling out a bowl from the cabinet. “John is out and Gordon is in.”

“That’s right. Gordon is moving in with me.” The words felt strange in her mouth. “It’s not a bad thing, is it?” Linnea asked, as much to herself as to Anna.

“How would I know?” Anna poured homemade granola into the bowl. “Really, like Cooper said, it’s your call.”

Linnea set her coffee mug on the counter and vigorously scratched her head, groaning with frustration. “I’m going to break out in hives before this is over.”

“Look,” Anna said, turning to face her. “I’m not a professional on love, God knows. But if your body is sending you signals telling you that you don’t want him to move in with you, you have to pay attention to that.”

“I’m just nervous.”

Anna went to the fridge, pulled out the oat milk, then poured some over her cereal. “What I hear you saying is, maybe you’re just not that into him.”

Linnea looked at her, startled by the casually offered, shocking comment. “But I am. He’s wonderful. Kind. Intelligent. Handsome.”

“Okay, keep telling yourself that.” She smiled. “And who knows? Maybe it’s just the timing that has you spooked. The pandemic and everything.” She carried the bowl to the table and slid into a chair. “Or, you’re just not that into him.”

Linnea frowned and grabbed her mug, taking a long swallow of coffee. It was already cold.

Cooper reentered the room, dressed now in a navy sweatshirt over khaki shorts that revealed his tanned, hairy legs and a worn pair of docksiders. His hair was still wet from his shower.

“Uh-oh. This has the feeling of a chick talk. How about I take the dog for a walk?”

“Great,” Linnea said. She turned to Luna, whose large brown eyes stared at her adoringly. “Want to go for a walkie?” Immediately the puppy began shaking her rear in excitement. “Go on,” she said to the dog, wiggling her fingers toward Cooper. “Her leash is hanging by the door.”

They watched Cooper struggle with the wiggly puppy, saying over and over, “Sit. Sit. Sit.” At last he secured the leash and, with a wave, left the house.

“A boy and his dog,” Anna quipped.

“Yes. Exactly. A boy,” Linnea said with exaggerated meaning.

“Oh, come on. He’s not that young.”

“No?” Linnea brought her mug to the table and sat beside Anna. “You don’t think a college boy is a little young for you?”

“What’s a few years?”

“Five,” Linnea said.

“Four,” said Anna.

“Whatever.”

“It is weird,” Anna conceded. “Not because he’s a few years younger than me. That’s no biggie. Trust me, he’s a man.”

Linnea made a face and put up her hand. “Please, spare me the details.”

Anna nodded, silently agreeing there were some lines that could not be crossed. “Right. It’s weird because he’s your little brother. Neither of us meant for it to happen. It just did.” Her long, unpolished nails tapped the table. “We’re not taking it seriously. We’re chalking it up to being stuck in these weird times. He might not be Mr. Right, but he’s Mr. Right Now.” She picked up her spoon and wagged it toward Linnea. “Your brother is pretty cool. I like him.” She leaned over to nudge Linnea. “And I love his family.”