I feel my frustration rising. “And how am I going to get home?”
Eight looks at me like I’ve grown an extra head. “You’ll stay with me for the night.”
My head, heart, and loins say yes, but the idiot inside my mouth says, “Henri needs her own bed.”
Eight takes a long look at me, like I’ve somehow betrayed him, then nods. “I’ll give you a ride home.”
“I’m tired of you giving me rides everywhere. I don’t like being so dependent.”
“Mom,” Henri calls from the couch. “Could we just go home.”
Oscar pipes up. “You could take us home, dad. You got the bike, so we can go where we need to. Selkie can borrow the truck.”
I’m about to protest, but Henri says, “Good idea.”
So instead, I murmur, “Jesus Christ, they’re agreeing with each other.”
“Yeah,” Eight replies. “Let’s get moving before they realize it.”
After Eight and Oscar are dropped off, I head home. Henri is sitting beside me quiet and half-asleep.
I need her alert so when I tell mom about the tattoo, I’ll be able to hide behind the kid. “I had to use your toothbrush. Sorry about that.”
It works. “You used my toothbrush! That is the grossest thing ever.”
“I didn’t have one and I was at Eight’s.”
She slaps her head and groans. “Why didn’t you use Eight’s?”
“Eventually, maybe. But too soon in the relationship to swap spit that way.”
“And speaking of that, of all the men you could choose, why did you have to decide that Oscar’s dad was your boyfriend. It’s gonna be horrible.”
“It’s not gonna be horrible,” I protest. “Think of all the fun we’ll have. Going camping. Chasing bad guys. Eating at buffets. Sneaking around in the middle of the night.”
She covers her face. “I can’t. I just can’t,” her voice cracks.
“Sorry, my little porcupine, but you’re gonna have to.”
“You’re not getting married, are you?”
I shake my head. “Maybe in a couple of years. Thinking we’ll move in together first.”
“When?” she croaks like I’m threatening to kill her.
“Not right away. Six months or so. We all gotta get comfortable with each other.”
Henri cross her arms and looks out the window. “I will never get comfortable.”
That’s probably true. We lapse into silence and stay that way until we get home.
When we get inside, Brambles comes roaring up to us, bypassing me and slobbering kisses all over Henri. She kneels down and squeezes him against her. “I’ve just got the horriblest news. You’re not gonna like it either, Brambles.”
I roll my eyes as mom comes out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. “What’s wrong with you two? Close the door.”
Henri slams it shut and stalks into the kitchen. “Gramma, mom has something to tell you.”
I follow her, go to the fridge, grab a beer, open it and guzzle half of it as I lean against the counter. I let out a burp.
