Brendanlooked at me, as his eyes dipped to my mouth. “Uh, well, we haven't reallytalked about it, but I really think we should name him after my dad.”
Hiseyes lifted back to mine, and I saw in them more lust than I think he'd felt inyears. I wanted to hold onto it longer and use it to keep my lips from tellinghim that I didn’t, in fact, want to name the baby after his father. Brendanwasn’t close with his dad, they never had a great relationship, and the thoughtof naming my child after a man I barely knew myself didn’t sit right with me.
“Um,well—”
“What'syour dad's name?” Goose asked, biting into a complementary breadstick.
Brendanturned to him and answered shortly, “Erik.”
Goosenodded as he chewed. Then said, “That's a damn good, strong name.”
Traceylaughed and explained to Brendan, “And it just so happens to be his name, too.”
Brendanshot a curious look in my direction, before turning back to Goose and cockinghis head, with both question and accusation in his eyes. “Huh. Then, how comeyou go by Goose? Middle name?”
Myfriend laughed heartily, as his eyes dodged quickly toward mine before lookingback to my boyfriend. “Nah, my parents weren't that cruel. Goose happenedsomewhere along the way and it stuck.”
“I'vebeen trying to figure it out,” I said to Brendan, leaning against his arm. “Hewon't tell me.”
Traceysmiled and said, “I've been with him for years and I don’t know either.”
“Youdon't justknow?”
Kindnessfilled her eyes. “I'm not reallythatkind of psychic.”
Brendanfolded his arms, leaning forward against the table. “I heard something aboutthat. How does it work?”
Ilistened then, as Tracey explained her abilities. About how she couldcommunicate with the dead—or Spirit, as she called it—and how she also had theability to catch glimpses of the future. She commanded the table withinteresting conversation, of things I could only imagine being able to do, andGoose smiled with pride, keeping his arm wrapped around her shoulders the wholetime. When the conversation steered then in the direction of my career, Iwished so much that Brendan would be just as proud. But instead, he used thattime to check his phone.
Iresented him for that, and I was so jealous of Tracey, I could hardly stand it.
“Doyou like being an author?” Tracey asked me, and I nodded halfheartedly.
“It’sall I really know how to do. Like, if I couldn’t write, I think I’d becompletely lost.”
Shenodded with understanding. “I get that. I have worked in other areas before,but nothing else feels natural to me. Not like this.”
“Didn’tyou just release a book?” Goose asked me.
Ipulled in a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Yeah, sort of.”
Brendansnorted then and muttered, “Either you did, or you didn’t.”
“Idid,” I retorted with a huff. “But the way book releases typically workis, after I put the book out into the world, I plug the hell out of it to makesales. Whether that’s withsome kind of PRpush, ads,or both, I have to dosomethingto make it more of a success. But witheverything going on right now, I haven’t really had the time or energy to doit. So, I’m kind of hoping word of mouth helps carry it for now, at least untilI have the time to breathe some life into it.”
Gooselistened intently,noddingand absorbing the things Iwas saying, while Brendan and Tracey seemed to be on another planet entirely.Their reaction, or lack thereof, left me feeling embarrassed and small, and Ishrugged the topic away.
“I’msure it’ll do better,” Goose said gently, offering a lopsided smile.
“Yeah,hopefully. I mean, it’s not doing bad. It’s just—”
“So,what do you see in my future?” Brendan asked, putting down his phone andchanging the subject.
“Um,”Tracey's eyes shot across the table to mine, taken aback by the suddeninterruption, “well ... I don't really—”
“No,come on, just tell me something. Any predictions?”
Shewas uncomfortable and Goose was annoyed, judging from the way he shifted in hisseat and hardened his glare.
