"I will not."
Lou walked through, clipboard against his hip, and took a coffee off the burner without looking at it.
"Rhodes. You harassing Ford again?"
"Trying to give him a life."
"Ford." Lou lifted his chin at me. "Do you want a life?"
"I'm good."
"Mhm."
He took his coffee back out into the bay.
Duke went back to his bacon. I went back to my eggs. When he spoke again, he'd dropped the pitch.
"Are you good?" he said.
"I'm good."
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, Duke. I'm good."
He looked at me over his coffee one beat longer than he usually did. Then he let it go.
"Alright, brother."
I ate my eggs. I didn't say her name.
She'd bumped her shoulder against mine on a vinyl couch Thursday. I hadn't moved.
CHAPTER 6
Astrid
The days after Penny's surgery had a shape I hadn't planned on.
Moose made the first move. He always did. By the second Saturday, Penny was back on the couch like she'd never left it. Moose had figured out that the back gate latch didn't fully catch if you nudged it at the right angle. I started finding him gone at seven in the morning, his spot on the bed still warm beside me. I'd cross the street in yesterday's jeans with two coffees from the pot I'd made too much of, and Easton would let me in without either of us making a thing of it.
The dogs would tear around the roses. We'd sit on the back step and watch them.
Neither of us called it anything. We both just kept showing up.
By the third week, it was reflex. His mug was on my shelf because we'd swapped them one morning and neither of us had suggested swapping back. I could tell when he'd been at the station by whether his boots were by the door.
I knew what I was doing. I just didn't say it out loud.
There was a Tuesday in the third week that I kept coming back to.
He'd been off shift since dawn. I'd crossed Maple at seven with two coffees and the wrong sweater on, because I'd grabbed the first one off the chair and only registered halfway across the street that it was the cashmere I never wore for dog mornings. Too late to go back. I rang the bell with my elbow because both hands were full.
He opened the door in a Henley with the sleeves shoved to his forearms and his hair still wet at the ends. He looked at the sweater. He looked at the coffees. He didn't say anything about either one.
"Back step?"
"Back step."
