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His eyebrows raise. “Uh, I’m not making any statements about the band. Or Ty.” His voice is gruff, annoyed.
“No, I’m sorry.” She waves her hand in the air as if to erase what she just said. “I’d never ask about that. I was wondering if your brother Brennan is back in town.”
Connor squints at her. “May I ask why?”
I give her a curious look as well.
“I went to high school with him. I have something of his I’d like to return, but I’ve got to be the one to give it to him. I know that sounds…uh, sketchy. How about this. If I give you my card will you pass it on to him?” Astrid’s cheeks redden a little when she asks.
Connor leans back and crosses his arms. “Surely you have alternative ways of getting ahold of him?”
She shakes her head, now clearly embarrassed. “Forget I said anything. It’s stupid. I didn’t mean to offend…”
“You didn’t.” I encircle her wrist with my hand. “Give me the card, we’ll get it to Brennan. Then he can decide.” I look over at Connor. “It’s not like she couldn’t have asked Jason.”
Connor allows a smile to creep over his face. “Ah, you’ve piqued my interest, Miss Astrid. We’ll at least text him your number.”
An hour later, we’re back at the town house with the twins. After touring the Hunts Point property, to say it feels cramped is an understatement. There’s no backyard. We’re in a busy neighborhood with lots of noise. Assuming the owners accept our offer, if all goes well, we’ll be moving in three weeks.
We’re changing the boys’ diapers and getting them in their pajamas when Connor’s phone pings. “You can take that, I’ve got this covered.”
“It’s Brennan, I sent him Miss Astrid’s number.” He waggles his eyebrows, flashes me a cheesy grin and heads out to the living room.
I take my time with the twins. Read them stories in their big-boy beds. We gave up trying to keep them in their cribs. Now, everything in the room is kid-safe, nothing to hurt them. They can roam around to their hearts content without us worrying. They conk out thirty minutes later. I change into yoga pants and a sweatshirt and collapse on the sofa in the living room.
“Hey, big guy. You hungry?” I direct my comment to Connor, who’s standing at the window. He glances over at me; his expression is strange. “Should we order in?”
“Aye. You pick.” He looks back out the window.
Ever since Fiona’s thwarted restaurant opening and I lost my production projects, I’ve loosened up on my dietary restrictions. Shockingly, I’ve dropped a pound, not gained twenty. “Pizza?”
“Fine. No olives.” He sinks into the couch next to me. Clicks the TV on.
I can’t help enjoying the splendid mundaneness of our evening. Binge-watching shows that I’ve never had time to watch. Ordering delicious carby pizza. I’m not going crazy, but it feels great to eat like a normal person. No, it feels great tolivelike a normal person.
I’m giddy with excitement when I snuggle up next to my husband. He puts his arm around me. Kisses my head and pulls me close. I poke his rock-hard abs. “Is Brennan going to call Astrid?”
“Huh?” He looks at me, puzzled. Then he nods. “Oh, aye. He remembered her.”
“Is everything okay, my honey? Are you having second thoughts about the house?” I thread my fingers through his. Rest my cheek on his shoulder so I can look up at him.
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m grand, my love. Perfect for us.”
I’m not sure why he’s acting weird, but I decide to let it go. Pointedly ignoring the prickles down my spine, which have started their macabre dance of doom.
The prickles make memad.
Today is such a happy day. A day of hope and new beginnings.
What else can be taken away from us?
Seattle isn’ta town filled with people who give many shites about celebrity.
Oh, I get stopped. So does Ronni. Sometimes when we’re at the grocery store. Or at the park with the boys. We always agree to selfies if we’re asked. It’s not that often, surprisingly. Generally, everyone in the Seattle area is chill. No one bothers us. Or harasses. Despite the bad LTZ publicity and Ronni’s ongoing back-and-forth war with the media over her lawsuits.
I’m not stupid, though. We’re exposed. Barry’s based in LA, so he didn’t make the trip to Seattle with us. Without security, my family isn’t fully safe, and that’s a problem. One the house in Hunts Point would solve.
Too feckin’ bad we can’t move in tonight.
