“My dog!” Lamar pointed to the screen and smiled at Will. “Look, mister! That’s my dog now!”
The sugar sweetness of the scene would delight romance readers everywhere, Will thought bitterly. But he gamely looked at the screen, saw a picture of a gangly dog who looked like a cross between a greyhound and a husky. The result was pretty cute.
He opened his mouth and let the words come. “Look at that. She’s happy to be home.” He patted the kid’s arm. “Rest up, buddy. You’re going to have a lot of playing to do when you get home.”
*
Will had slipped into a parking spot a block down from Bright Ideas while he’d spoken. They were parked, but Emmy made no move to get out of the car.
“You did a good thing, Will.”
“I did what I was supposed to do,” he countered. “It was all written. I can’t describe how…usedI feel. Fucking Pinocchio has more autonomy than I do. You have no idea how frustrating this is.”
“You’re right,” she said quietly. “I can’t even imagine it.”
He shook his head before dropping it back against the headrest and closing his eyes. “I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”
“Who else?” she asked. “I’m here for you if you need me. No script. No all-powerful author calling the shots. If you need to vent, go for it.”
When he opened his eyes again and looked at her, he saw that she meant it. “Thank you. That might just keep me sane for a while longer.”
“That’s a change of pace for me. Usually people find themselves telling me that I’m driving them crazy.”
“You’re just misunderstood.”
She laughed as she unbuckled her seatbelt. “That’s what I’m always saying.”
Will followed her into Bright Ideas. Bright had a salesclerk working for her now, a young twenty-something girl with purple hair and a nose ring. The girl smiled when she saw them walking in and waved.
“Welcome in! Feel free to browse.”
“Thanks,” Emmy said. “I’m actually looking for Bright, though. Is she here?”
“Yeah, let me go get her for you.”
They wandered a bit while the twenty-something went to find Bright, eventually stopping at a wall of paintings depicting naked men with beer bottles in place of their penises.
Will studied the artwork with a quizzical expression. “What is this supposed to mean? Is it a commentary on men or alcohol? Or sex?”
“All of the above, probably,” Emmy said. “Maybe you should get one. Support local artists.”
Will managed a smile. “I’m more of a whiskey guy.”
Emmy silently pointed to a painting on the end that depicted a prominent Jack Daniel’s erection.
Will sighed. “I walked right into that one.”
“Hey, guys!”
“Saved by the manic pixie dream girl,” Emmy whispered, making Will snort.
They turned to greet Bright. Her curly hair was tied up with a bandana and she wore a denim bracelet on her left wrist.
“Good to see you! Bianca said you needed something from me?”
“I have a request,” Emmy told her. She held out the bag that contained the old gardening tools. “Do you think you’d be able to freshen these up and turn them into a wind chime?”
Bright took the bag and looked inside. The expression on her face turned to pure delight.
