“They’re one and the same.”
Cheng didn’t answer.
• • • •
DIEGO DRAPED HIS arm around Zelda’s waist and she spooned a little deeper. He groaned slightly.
“Easy. Little Diego’s kind of sore.”
She kissed his hand. They’d screwed for three straight hours. He couldn’t talk about his trip and she couldn’t talk about the baby. That pretty much left sex and Indiana gin. He felt so good and she missed him so much. Just say it, girlfriend, she heard Mooshie and chuckled.
“What?” Diego tried resting on his back, but she tugged his arm back.
“I’m just thinking of a friend.”
“What kind of friend?”
Zelda reassuringly sucked his thumb. “Dara. She’s a singer.”
“Should we see her one night?”
“If we ever get out of bed.”
Diego murmured approval into her neck. “I missed you, Zelda.”
She tensed. “I bet.”
Diego propped himself onto an elbow. “What does I bet mean?”
What’re you waiting for, she asked herself. Not waiting for anything, just trying to enjoy love for the first time when I know it’ll end. Honey, are you really that fat? Yes darling, I swallowed a fetus. Dipped the brat in chocolate. Went down in one gulp.
“Means I missed you, too. Can’t you tell?”
Diego shook his head sadly.
“Really?” Zelda sat up, annoyed. “I made you dinner and we got naked…”
“Like you had to.”
“I don’t have to do anything,” she snapped. “How can we fight the first night you get back?”
Diego sat up a little taller. It became a ridiculous contest until they both rested on their heels, holding pillows.
“I love you,” he said abruptly.
“Shit.” Zelda stumbled out of bed; he pursued her into the living room.
“See?” Diego said, wounded. “That upsets you.”
“It does.”
“Because I’m a stupid DV…”
“No, dickhead.”
“Then why?”
Zelda sighed. “Because I’m pregnant.” Diego grinned. “It’s not yours.”
He frowned. “Whose is it?”
“I don’t know. It might be yours. Or not.”
“How many choices are there?”
“What’s it matter?” she yelled. “More than thirty three per cent.” He calculated on his face, which only pissed her off. “That’s why I can’t say I love you.”
Diego blinked, puzzled. “Then you do love me.”
“Didn’t I just say I can’t say?”
He grabbed away the bottle of gin, warning her about pregnancy and alcohol. “But if you could say, you would.” Diego cut her off from the wine cabinet. “But you can’t say because you’re pregnant and you don’t know who the father of the child is and what if it’s not mine but you’re in love with me.”
Zelda threw up her hands. “Bingo baby.”
“Then get a DNA test.”
“No no no. Because that’ll identify the father and what if it’s someone I barely know and he has to come forward and take responsibility over a stupid one night stand.”
“How many one night stands?”
“Seven,” she said weakly. He started calculating odds in his head. “Fourteen percent.”
“Not bad odds for someone you love.”
So young, so stupid, Zelda sighed. “You want to be with a pregnant woman who might be carrying another guy’s baby?”
Diego considered this a little too long. Zelda searched for chocolate in the kitchen.
“Did you sleep with anyone after me?” He stopped her from dumping all the silverware on the floor for the sake of a Kleindorff Caramel Chew.
“No.”
“Why not?” Diego squeezed her wrists, hard. “Why didn’t you sleep with anyone after me?”
“Because I liked you.”
“Now you love me.”
“I’m such a hot mess.”
“That’s why you need Diego.”
She finally just rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m a lot older than you.”
“Thirteen years. Just over thirty three per cent difference.”
Zelda kissed him like she’d never kissed a man or woman before.
• • • •
MOOSHIE WHISTLED TO let him know she’d finished dressing. She was propped up in bed, watching the ancient Make Room for Daddy vidshow.
“This is such shit.” She laughed. “Don’t you think Grandma would’ve come up with better after all these years?”
Puppy slipped into bed and pulled up the covers. “It’s safe. Simple problems. Wise parents. Obedient children, after they realized their mistakes. Family love ultimately conquers all. Why change?”
Mooshie switched back to the vidnews. A pumpkin factory was opening in Oklahoma, celebrated by dancing cowboys and cowgirls.
“We should get a bigger bed.” Mooshie tried humming the Okie theme song but gave up after a few bars.
“Why, nothing happens.”
“Is my baby horny?”
“I embrace celibacy,” he snorted. “Besides, we can’t afford a new bed.”
“I can. I got a record deal.”
He turned, careful not to cross the imaginary line in the middle of the mattress. “Kenuda set it up?”
“No, Dinton’s voice.”
“The reason we need a bigger bed is for your ego.”
“Yours ain’t so small, either, hot buns.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded. He’d made her watch the lengthy Hazel interview twice. The Bad Ass Historian. “Apart from your musical genius, how did Commissioner Kenuda get the deal?”
“He brought people down to the club from Parkway Records. They were blown away.” Mooshie rubbed cream into her arms.
“This from one of the late nights you spent with him recently?”
Mooshie grinned. “Jealous, big boy?”
“No. But Annette is.”
She seemed genuinely surprised. “Are you kidding?”
“I wish. She can be a little paranoid.”
“She’ll get over it.” Mooshie muted the vidnews forty minutes before it mercifully went off the air for the night and flicked off her light, slipping on black eye pads. It was like sleeping with a pirate with D cups.
“Once Annette convinces herself about something, she can’t go back. Otherwise it’s admitting a mistake. She’s incapable of that. How do you think we stayed together for so long?”
“Clearly it wasn’t the sex.” Mooshie turned away.
“Moosh, you have to scale back seeing Kenuda.”
She flipped back onto her back with a growl. “I’m not doing anything with him. I have some morals, big surprise.”
“I’m not accusing you,” he insisted. Mooshie briefly lifted up the right eye pad for half a glare. “Just let them get married. It’s only another five months.”
Mooshie blindly lit a ‘bacco. “Who knows how long I have.”
“What makes you say that?” he asked nervously. “Did you get some message?”
“From who?”
“The beyond.”
She laughed out the smoke, slowly growing serious. “I need Kenuda, Pup. I need
