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“That’s it?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“That married sex is fuckin’ incredible, that havin’ a wife is the best thing ever, that Esther cooks like a fuckin’ Michelin chef, I don’t know, man,somethin’.”
“Not talkin’ to you about our sex life,” I replied, lifting one finger. “I’ve been married for a week, if you want to talk about married life go ask literally anyone else.” I lifted a second finger and then a third. “And we’ve been gettin’ takeout.”
Rumi laughed. “You’re a fuckin’ joy to be around, you know that?”
“Don’t you have someone else to bother?”
“No one else that just got married,” he replied, pushing my shoulder. “Come on, how’s it been?”
I sighed. He wasn’t going to let up until I gave him something. Rumi was worse than the women when it came to gossiping.
“The sex is fantastic, which wasn’t surprising because it was good the first time.”
Rumi whooped, and I shook my head. He was such a fucking child.
“I like Esther,” he said, pointing at me. “She seems super fuckin’ nice and she doesn’t take your shit.”
“What shit?”
“This whole pissed-in-my-cereal attitude you’ve had since you were five. She doesn’t even seem tonoticeit.”
“I don’t have an attitude.”
“Boy, you’ve had an attitude since the womb,” my dad countered as he rounded the car. “How’s things?”
“All good.”
“We’ve been watchin’ the Sons of Calgary all week, and no one’s fuckin’ movin’,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “Goin’ around actin’ like they don’t have thousands of dollars in stolen weapons stashed somewhere.”
“It’s been a real bore,” Rumi added, scratching absently at the side of his face.
“Esther hasn’t had any problems? Not tryin’ to call home or anythin’?”
“How would she?” I asked. “She’s been at the house this week. No phone, remember?”
“You still haven’t gotten her a phone?” Rumi asked in disbelief, standing up straight.
“What?” I looked at him and then my dad. “We didn’t even leave the house.”
“You’re here.” Dad was frowning.
“And?”
“You left her at your house in the boonies with no phone,” Rumi muttered.
“She’s fine. She’s at my place,” I shot back defensively.
“Son, she needs a phone.”
“I’ll get her one.”
“Today,” my dad ordered. “For fuck’s sake, she’s pregnant.”
“Yeah, I’m aware of that.” I’d explored the little curve of her belly more times than I could count in the last week.
