Pop patted my shoulder. “I agree—”
“See? There’s something wrong with all of them. But the East Village is the ideal location,” I continued. “I can walk to your place and to work. You know I avoid the subway like the plague. Plus, it’s a convenient drive for Calvin to get to his precinct. I’ll have to keep a constant supply of Ben & Jerry’s around until I finally land a lease.”
My cell started ringing from the dining table.
Pop walked across the room, fetched my phone, and helped himself to answering the call, which meant it was either Max or Calvin. And on a Sunday evening, it wouldn’t be Max. “Hello, Calvin! How’re you doing? … Hm-hm…. I bet. We just finished dinner, actually. Let me see if Sebastian is available.”
“I’m right here,” I stated, holding my hands out, like,What gives?
“I’ve got the caramel chocolate cheesecake, actually,” Pop told Calvin, chuckling under his breath.
I turned, opened the freezer to my left, and pulled out a pint of what looked to be the best damn ice cream those two crazy Vermonters had ever thought up.
“After being his father for thirty-three years, I’ve picked up a trick or two,” Pop concluded. “All right. You be safe.” He lowered the phone from his ear and asked, “Did you want to talk to your boyfriend?”
“Well, he called me, Dad,” I said, grabbing for the phone.
Pop held it out of reach. “Are you going to tone down the dramatics?”
“Jesus Christ—”
“Sebastian.”
“Fine. All right. I won’t lament about being homeless to the man whose job it is to put up with my whining.” I swiped the phone, gave Pop a leveled look, and said while bringing it to my ear, “Sebastian speaking on Sebastian’s phone.”
“It’s my job to put up with your whining?” Calvin asked.
I felt my face heat and said, “No. I mean—but sometimes it’s nice to, uh—”
Calvin laughed, his voice deep and rich. It always had a way of being soothing, maybe because he never laughedatme, but instead, with me. “Are you looking for comfort or solutions, baby?”
“Comfort.”
“Then bitch away.”
“I would, but my dad is watching me.”
Pop rolled his eyes, let out another one of those long-suffering sighs, and went to collect Maggie’s leash for her evening constitutional.
“Quinn stepped out for a smoke,” Calvin was saying, “so I thought I’d call you.”
“Aww.”
“I know.” The distinct hum of a water fountain cooler kicked on in the background. Calvin must have been walking down one of the hallways of his precinct. “Tell me about this morning’s viewing…. Was it on Stuyvesant?”
“Ninth.”
“How was it?”
“Stinky and prepubescent.”
Calvin was quiet for a moment, then concluded with, “So no.”
“No.” I leaned against the counter and gave Pop a small wave when he and Maggie left the apartment. “I talked to a new real estate agent today. He’s going to show me a few places tomorrow.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Really?”
