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“Dad,”Janey said again in what he was coming to think of as the“Dad”-wail, then seemed unable to go on, as if he were too dim to live and her life was hopeless.
“I don’t want to go clothes shopping,” Troy said. “It’s boring, and anyway, I like my clothes. I want to go home and see Bacon, except I can’t, because I’m not s’posed to stay home alone. But I could stay here with Quinn! I like her house, and there’s puzzles and a box of cars in the tiny closet I could play with, and a track you can set up. She showed me. I wouldn’t be any trouble,” he told Quinn. “I know, because Mrs. Hobarts always says that. ‘He’s no trouble.’ I can play very quietly.”
Quinn said, “Oh, sweetie,” in a helpless sort of way, then went on in a stronger voice, “I’d love to have you stay and play at my house, and you don’t have to be quiet.”
“Troy’s clothes are wrong, too, though,” Janey said. “He has the wrong jeans.”
“No, I don’t,” Troy said. “I fit my jeans, and they’re comfortable. Except I like trackpants better, because they’re soft. Maybe we could buy me more trackpants. They could be red. I like red. And purple.”
“You can’t weartrackpants,”Janey said. “Not toschool.And notred.Or purple! Purple’s evenworse.”
“Why?” Troy asked, but she just sighed.
“I’d say, none of the above, on the stores,” Quinn said, clearly back in her groove, “and you don’t have to go to Kalispell, either. Montana Outfitters, on the highway at the south edge of town. Ask for my mom. Her name’s Bam, and I’ll text her so she knows you’re coming. She knows everything about which clothes are popular for girls,” she told Janey, “as she’s the buyer. She’s a Montana fashion encyclopedia by now. Also, you probably all need winter clothes. It’s going to get cold soon, and I’m betting you’ve never been cold in your lives.”
“I’ve been cold,” Troy said. “After swimming, I’m always cold.”
“You’ll find out,” Quinn said.
“Cowboy chic, something like that?” Beckett asked. “And your mum’s name is ‘Bam’?”
“Nope, and yes. Well, yes, cowboy chic, but a whole lot more than that. You’ll see. And her real name is Bambi. If your name were Bambi, you wouldn’t use it, either.”
“It couldn’t be Dad’s,” Janey said. “A boy can’t be namedBambi.”
“Wanna bet?” Quinn said. “Bambi was a boy deer.”
“Can you come with us, Quinn?” Janey asked, ignoring ‘Bambi,’ which was just as well. Who named their daughter Bambi? Janey plowed ahead with her usual determination. “I know I was probably rude before, but your clothes are nice, and your mum’s probably a bit old. Sorry,” she said when Beckett glared at her, “but she’d be, like, a granny.”
“Ha,” Quinn said. “My mom has much more style than me. Then again, that’s not hard. I seem to remember that I wore trackpants once around you, if those are sweatpants.Oldsweatpants.”
“But your clothes now look good,” Janey said. “And before, when we went to Violet’s house. Otherwise, I’ve just got my dad, and he doesn’t knowanything.You dress like some of the girls at school, where your clothes sort of show your body. My jeans aren’t tight like that.”
Beckett choked a little at that, and Quinn looked at him and said, “What?”
“Nah,” he said. “Nothing. But it’s true. In a good way.”
“I thought I wasn’t feminine, and I don’t have a body for sin, and so forth,” she said.
“Oi,” he said. “I wasn’t the one who said that.” He decided to quit there.
She said, “Then let’s go to the store, and maybe by the time we’re done shopping, you’ll have got over whatever tact attack is making you not say how much you hate my house, and thanks very much, but you’ll find something.”
“But I don’twantto find something!” Troy said. “I want to live inthishouse!”
“Did I say that?” Beckett asked. “I didn’t.” Wait. He hadn’t?
She said, “Consider the dating. No offense, but you seemed a little territorial back there.”
“I didn’t say I was perfect,” he said, and once again, he was grinning.
“You could stay upstairs if somebody’s over,” she said. “Out of sight. I think you’re probably off-putting.”
“I could,” he agreed. “But then who’d chuck the bloke out if he needed it? So what do you think? Eighteen hundred a month?”
“No,” she said. “Are you kidding? A thousand.Maybe.”
“It’s going to include utilities,” he said. “And for three bedrooms and a bath? Or look at it as three-quarters of a four-bedroom furnished house. I’ve looked at those Airbnb listings. Fifteen hundred minimum.”
