Page 81 of Joey

“What?”

He’s still holding my hand. And then he’s holding both of them. “I’m glad you’re here, Brooke.”

“Me too,” I say. And still, he’s looking at me. “What’s going on?” I ask.

He smiles a little. Then drops one of my hands and tugs me into the sunroom off to my right.

“What are we doing?” I ask.

“Sitting,” he says. “Enjoying the new view.”

“It’s a really nice street, don’t you think?”

“It’s fuckin’ beautiful,” he says, waving his hand at the small love seat in front of the window. “Sit with me, Brooke.”

“O-kay,” I say, wondering what he’s up to. But I sit. And he sits next to me. And this couch is small and he’s kind of the size of a bulldozer… so we’re pret-ty close. “What’s on your mind?” I ask. Because clearly, something is.

“Nothin’,” he says. “Just kinda wanna… take a minute, you know. Enjoy it.”

“Yeah,” I say. “I get it.”

“Things are gonna change pretty fast.”

“I think they already have.”

“For sure,” he says. “But can you imagine a little kid here with us?”

It would be easy to just say… No. Or Yes. Or I don’t know.

But instead of automatically replying with the standard non-answer, I consider it for a moment.

“How old is she?” I ask. Because I don’t even know.

“Like five, I think. Maybe a little older than five. But not six.”

“OK.” I chuckle.

“Parents count the age of kids in months. I just don’t know her months. Or her birthday, for that matter.”

“We’ll have to ask Joey when he comes back.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Oh… you asked me if I could imagine her here. And now I’m trying to imagine her here.”

“I bet she rides her bike down that hallway,” he says.

“It goes around in a loop,” I say. “So she’s totally gonna do that.”

“Or roller-skates. Do you think she roller-skates?”

“I dunno.”

“Well, I’m gonna buy her some roller skates.”

“I bet she has dolls,” I say. “Not crappy ones, either.”

“Did you have crappy dolls?”