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“Um-hum,” Ally mumbled loudly. She was lying on her stomach and her face was smushed into the lounge chair.
“What time?” I asked.
Tod paused then said, “Girlie, aren’t you forgetting something?”
“What?”
Tod shook his head. “You’re living with Hunk-A-Licous now. You might want to ask him if he has plans for Saturday night.”
Ally’s eyes opened and trained on me.
Shit.
I was really not good at this relationship stuff.
“Call Lee,” Tod advised. “Then come over and let me know.”
“Gotcha,” I shouted and settled in, reaching for the phone and hearing Chowleena’s nails tapping on the bricks as she and Tod walked back into the house.
I started to punch in Lee’s cell number.
“I’m still pissed you’re not pregnant,” Ally said into the lounge chair.
“For goodness sake, why?” I asked.
“I’m never gonna get a niece named after me.”
I hesitated before hitting the call button. “Ally, I hate to break this to you, but it’s likely genetically impossible for me to have a girl. I don’t think Lee’s boys will allow the female chromosome to dominate.”
“You can name a boy Ally,” she tried.
“I’m not naming a boy Ally. He’ll get the shit knocked out of him in school.”
“Muhammad Ali didn’t get the shit knocked out of him. He knocked the shit out of everyone else,” she pointed out.
“Muhammad Ali was born with the name Cassius Clay. Cassius Clay is a kickass name. No one would fuck with a Cassius Clay.”
“No one would fuck with Muhammad Ali either.”
I couldn’t debate that point.
I gave up and hit the call button.
Lee answered after the first ring. “Yeah?”
I got a thrill down my spine at Lee’s voice saying that one word. I wondered when that would stop happening, and I hoped the answer was “never.”
“Hey. Do we have plans Saturday night?” I asked.
“I thought I’d take you to Barolo Grill.”
“Yippee!” I cried.
Shit.
Did I say that out loud?
I snapped my mouth shut.
