“I want a sword too,” Abbi said.
“No sword,” both Lu and I said at the same time.
“But swords are cool,” she muttered.
“We’ll buy you cookies,” I said, without looking away from Lu. “Because Lu and I will have the weapons. Lots of weapons. All the weapons. We’ll protect you.”
“And Hado,” Abbi said.
“And we’ll protect Hado.”
The purr turned into a growl a cat should not make.
Lorde lifted her head, her pointed ears flopping, and tapped her tail a couple times.
“Hado will protectus,” Abbi said. “Won’t you, little kitty witty? Sweet fluffy purr-purr. So strong and fierce.”
Hado tried to keep up the growl, but Abbi’s petting was too soothing. He twisted onto his back, yawned, and went back to purring.
“No swords.” Lu stood and shucked out of her jeans, then walked off toward the bathroom.
“Ugn…” I had to swallow to keep from choking on my own spit. “What?”
She paused in the bathroom doorway and tried to look stern, but I could see she was pleased. “No swords in the soda shop.”
“Is this where we make a bet that one of us, and by one I mean me, is going to smuggle weapons into the soda shop?”
“No weapons and no bets you can’t win.”
“I always win.”
She rolled her eyes, then shut the door.
“I win,” I grumbled. “I win a lot.”
Abbi covered her mouth again, trying to make very serious eyes as she nodded at me.
The shower turned on. The curtain clicked as rings pulled to one side, and the interrupted rhythm of the water filtered through the thin door as Lu ducked under the spray.
“You should take a sword.” Abbi flopped back on the bed, then seemed to realize there was a blanket she could crawl under, and got busy burying herself, piling the four flat pillows over her head like layers of bread.
“Why do you think I need a sword?” I got up and took care of the empty food cartons, shoving them inside each other, then tying them in the bag and dropping them next to the tiny wastepaper basket so we could throw them away in the morning.
Her voice was muffled as she replied: “In case something bad happens.”
“Do you think something bad’s going to happen?”
The water shut off. Lu could probably hear both of us through the door.
“Something bad always happens,” Abbi said.
“Maybe not always.” Lu had stolen one of my T-shirts and was using it as a nightgown. It came to just above her knees. She was braiding her wet hair over one shoulder, her eyes absolutely luminous in the low light. “Sometimes good things happen.”
“Yeah,” I said, moving the covers aside and negotiating foot room with Lorde, “sometimes.”
Lu padded to the door and switched off the light.
“But sometimes,” I said, as my wife turned and glided my way, as she kneeled on the bed beside me, and settled her body next to mine, as familiar as my own breath. “Sometimes only the best things happen.”
