“Thanks.” I take a sip and decide that I can trust Lucy with her whiskey choices. It’s a good one.
“Do you…have a child?” I don’t know if it’s weird that I feel hesitant asking about it. Because, for one, I would think she would have said something before now. And, for two, it would mean she’s nervous to tell me about him or her.
Lucy looks at me with wide eyes, and I think there might be some distrust there. I can see it on her face as she frowns at me.
“A child?”
I clear my throat. It’s time to confess to my eavesdropping. “I overheard you on the phone.”
Her frown deepens, and she folds her arms over her chest. “Listening in on conversations that have nothing to do with you?”
I shift uncomfortably, then scowl back at her. “You were in the kitchen, practically yelling into the phone that you missed your baby. It’s not like I had a choice in listening to you.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
This was not how I saw this conversation going. I wanted her to explain to me that she had five children somewhere and a husband. Any reason to stop replaying the conversation we hadthirty minutes ago. Something to make me stop staring at her like she could be my wife.
She’s not giving me much to work with.
“So, no baby somewhere?” I say.
“Yes, I have a secret family somewhere.” She smiles back dryly.
I hold my hands up and stand in front of where she’s sitting on the counter. “Sorry! I just heard you asking how they were doing, and I was worried you maybe thought I wouldn’t let you?—”
She slaps a slender hand over my mouth, smothering what I was going to say. The rest of the thought flies out of my mind as her fingers press against me.
“I don’t have a child!” she exclaims, exasperated. “I have a dog. A big dog. Most people are a little wary of him because he’s excessively large.”
“M-M-P-ummmp-ooo?” I ask, her hand still pressed against my lips.
She lets go, and I have the overwhelming urge to reach out to create a physical connection between us again.
“I asked if you had an elephant.”
“No, not quite that big. It’s an English mastiff. My friend is keeping him for me.”
“Why don’t you have him here?”
She leans back, her hands gripping the edge of the counter as she says quietly, “I didn’t think you would want a dog in your particular life.”
“My particular life?” My voice rises at the end of that.
She grins cheekily. “You seem to like things a certain way.”
“I do not.” I try to defend myself.
“You think I don’t notice every time you start twitching when your favorite mug is missing?”
I grind my teeth together as I realize she’s been doing this to annoy me.
I take a step toward her. “You’ve been taking my mug on purpose?”
She holds up her hands in a defensive gesture. “Now, the first couple of times were an accident.”
“What about after that?”
It should be easy to intimidate her, but it doesn’t seem to work. She doesn’t look scared about what I might do, instead, she’s giggling, as if she isn’t worried at all.
