Page 89 of Heartbeats & Highways

“So you want kids?”

“Eventually.” Brielle pulled out the orange juice carton and poured a glass. “Kinda hard to give them grandchildren because my brothers scare off any man trying to get close to me. So I’m kind of in a lose-lose situation. I might have to move just so I can date in peace.”

“You wouldn’t really move, would you?” I asked, taking the glass she brought me.

“Nah. I can’t imagine living away from my family, but man, they make it hard sometimes.”

The front door opened and the dogs still on leashes bounded into the living room. Cuddle Bug jumped up next to me and I removed her leash and gave her ears a scratch.

Fluffernutter ran in circles around Brielle’s legs and then sat so Brielle could take off his leash.

“Homer says he’ll give them a longer walk later before he goes to work,” Jazz announced. She looked at me. “Another perk of her brother living in the building? We time-share the dogs.”

“What happens when you and Homer live together? Who gets the dogs?” I asked.

“We haven’t really talked about it,” Brielle admitted.

“Because up until a few days ago, the idea of me and Homer together was just a fantasy.”

“What about you, though?” Brielle asked as she put two slices of whole grain toast into the toaster and pressed the lever.

“What about me?” I frowned.

“I mean, what are you going to do about the apartment you’re living in?” Brielle asked.

“Still not following.”

“Well, you can’t stay there forever,” Brielle said. “It’s sort of a transition place, for women in need, right?”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “I haven’t thought too far ahead, actually. It’s not like I have the money to get a real place yet.”

“What about Savage?” Jazz inquired, taking a seat on the couch.

“What about him?” I asked.

“Has he said anything to you about moving to a place more permanent?”

“No.”

Her question made my mind swirl. He lived at the clubhouse which wasn’t a viable solution for the future. But we hadn’t discussed it yet.

The toaster popped.

“Butter?” Brielle asked.

I shook my head.

“Dry toast?” Jazz wrinkled her nose. “Yuck.”

“When you’re puking your guts up because you’re pregnant with Homer’s baby, then maybe you’ll understand the need for bland,” I said.

“Homer’s baby . . .” She sighed.

“Oh crap,” Brielle muttered. “Full steam ahead, huh, Jazz?”

“Hmm. Fuck this slow crap. I’ve waited too long already.”

There was a box of Moonglow pears and a note waiting for me on my doorstep. I looked at the door across the hall, wondering if my neighbor was on the other side, staring at me through the peephole. In case she was, I smiled and waved before going into my own apartment.

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