Page 62 of Nomad

When they were finished, they poured coffee and sat down for the story Brenda had promised. Bud thought it was one of the strangest family stories she’d ever heard, but heartbreakingly romantic. She also knew for a fact that it ended well, because she’d spent hours with Brant and Garland the day before and, if there was ever a couple who belonged together, it was the two of them. Anyone could see it.

Brenda looked at her watch. “Now you don’t have to worry about lunch. They’re on their own and they’re usually gone in the middle of the day doin’ whatever it is they do. Rescue’s always here, of course, because he works here. Now, once I’m gone, he’ll try to talk you into cookin’ for those dogs. You just tell him no. Your job is to cook for humans. Not dogs. Tell him he can cook for the dogs at his own place.

“So between breakfast and five o’clock you restock the kitchen and the bar. Do what cleanin’ needs to be done. Got a service that comes twice a week to do such things as sweepin’, dustin’, vacuumin’, and cleanin’ the bathrooms. Oh. Trust me, girl. You wouldnotwant to be them!” She was shaking her head and making a face. “Also, if somebody left a whore layin’ around with no clothes on their nasty skanky asses, let the cleanin’ people find ‘em and not you.”

Bud looked curious. “Does that really happen or are you makin’ it up?”

Brenda took in a long indulgent breath. “The boys are red-blooded and some of ‘em don’t know that all pussy’s not the same. Brant discourages that behavior these days, but he doesn’t say no. They’re grown ass men.” She shrugged. “Just how it is. They won’t bother you though. Brant read them the Riot Act and Brash is Enforcer. Nobody wants to be enforced by Brash. Believe me. So no matter how cute they may think you are, they’re gonna leave you the hell alone.

“Now when it comes to meal plannin’, you’re in charge. In your condition, you got special needs. And you need to put yourself first when you’re thinkin’ about what to serve. If that means the men have to eat salads with grilled chicken instead of fried chicken, then so be it. It wouldn’t hurt them to be a little health conscious.”

Bud grinned. “I think they’d hate me.”

“Now you listen to me and hear me well. Two weeks from now you’re not going to care what they think about you. They’re the ones who need to be turnin’ themselves inside out worried about whether or notyou’refeeling all right. The woman who controls the food and the drink is all powerful. Never forget that. Men can do without anything else. Anything. But they’ve got to have their food and drink.”

For a full minute Bud sat and processed that. Then she laughed out loud. “You’re sayin’ that, when it comes to the Sons of Sanctuary clubhouse, I’m all powerful.”

“Hmmm. I wouldn’t cross Brant if I were you. Other than that, yes. You’re the shit.” Without missing a beat, Brenda continued, “So the cleanin’ you need to do is mostly in here.” She looked around the kitchen. “And the bar. I’ll show you the ins and outs of how all that works.

“Now the guys will start driftin’ in wantin’ alcoholic beverages around five. You warm up the TVs and give them a first round. You don’t need to learn about mixed drinks. The bar motto is keep it simple. When you need to start dinner, one of them can hand out beers and pour whiskey. After all, there’s only one of you. Right?”

There was only one answer to that. “Right.”

“So the job hours are kind of different. You’ll be in here cookin’ breakfast at seven and I’m usually out there at the bar until ten. I leave the bar sparklin’ before I go to bed. If somebody makes a mess after that, they’re not gonna like me in the mornin’. You know what I mean?” Bud nodded. “Good news is that there’s a lot of time between breakfast and five for you to run your own errands and, most importantly, get a nap. As your pregnancy progresses, you’re probably gonna need that more and more.”

Brenda was showing Bud around the bar when Garland swept in.

“Good morning.” She smiled at Bud and Brenda.

“Hey, boss lady,” Brenda said.

Garland scowled at Bud. “Please do not call me that. Ever.” She looked at Brenda. “She does it just to aggravate me.” Brenda laughed. “You ready?” she asked Bud. “That’s a beautiful top you’re wearing.”

“Thank you.” Bud had to agree. She wasn’t sorry she’d snagged the rose tunic even if it had been a favorite of Señora Gutierrez.

Garland and Bud were twenty minutes early for her appointment. The doctor was running forty minutes late.

“It’s very nice of you to do this,” Bud told Garland.

“Have you been to see an obstetrician before?” Garland asked. Bud shook her head. “Gynecologist?”

Bud shook her head again.

Garland contemplated whether or not she should say something about pelvic exams, but decided maybe it would be best not to have Bud form preconceived ideas based on someone else’s experience. She’d taken care to get Bud a woman OBGYN. Not only would it seem less humiliating to someone with Bud’s age and inexperience, but the doctor’s hands, like the rest of her, were smaller.

Garland tried to ignore the TV monitor so that she could read her book while Bud was with the doctor, and part of her longed for the days when there was peace to be found in public places.

Bud came out clutching a white paper bag. Garland rose and met her at checkout.

“Samples of vitamins,” Bud said, raising the bag.

“Good. I know you need those.”

Garland paid the bill. On the way out she said, “Now for the fun part. Are you hungry?”

“Unbelievably, yes. Even though I had chicken and waffles for breakfast.”

“I’m sure you just got a lecture about diet.”

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