“Hold her upright a little more,” Tam advised, demonstrating the motion with her arms. “She’s not a newborn potato anymore, and she needs more stimulation. She wants to see new stuff.”
I shifted the baby, and she immediately quieted.
“You know,” Tam went on, “you never actually explained what happened out at Brewer’s camper. Or why you were even there.”
I darted a look at her before focusing on the baby again. “Brewer’s dog startled me,” I admitted, ignoring the latter part of her question. “I tripped into the pole supporting his awning, which landed in his grill, and… well, things proceeded from there.”
“Brewer’s dog.” Tam bit her lip, immediately understanding in a way hardly anyone else on Earth would.
“I wasn’t afraid,” I said quickly. I didn’t look at Tam, in case she was giving me the soft, pitying frown that was the inverse of her sister look. “I was being… justifiably cautious. Teeny’s living here now, and I’m fine with it. Mostly. Brewer’s been very good about keeping us separated.”
“Does he know—?” She shook her head. “What am I saying? You can’t talk to the man about cabinets. Of course you didn’t tell him what happened with Gretzky.”
“What, am I supposed to tell every new person I meet, ‘Oh, hey, by the way, I got bitten by my family dog almost twenty years ago, and it turned into a whole thing that traumatized my entire family, so could you please disclose if you have any dogs or dog-related paraphernalia that might trigger me’?” I huffed. “No, thank you.”
“Laney,” Tam said in that gentle voice again.
“Anyway—”
“You know no one blamed you for what happened?—”
“Anyway,” I repeated, louder this time, before bouncing my niece a little bit. “Tierney says she’s no longer interested in discussing this.”
For a second, it seemed like Tam would argue, but finally, she sighed, allowing the subject change. “She seems fascinated by something on your bookcase,” she offered.
“She does.” I followed Tierney’s gaze to one of the bookcases that flanked the fireplace. “Studies show babies like bright colors, right?” I picked up a small, intricately carved and painted wooden doll and held it closer so the baby could get a good look. “Is this what you see? Smart girl. This doll is from the Yanomami tribe in Brazil. I interviewed one of the tribal leaders a few years ago about deforestation policies and the impact on indigenous traditions. Can you say Ya-no-ma-mi?”
Tam laughed. “She can’t even say Dada or Mama yet.”
“My niece is brilliant, Tamsen,” I informed her, “and you don’t know what she’s absorbing. It’s never too early to instill in her an appreciation for cultural artifacts?—”
Tierney seized the doll with both hands and clumsily directed it at her mouth.
“Yes, just look at her appreciating the culture!” Tam teased.
I removed the doll from the baby’s grip, dropped a kiss on Tierney’s forehead, and handed her back to Tam. “Never mind, Tierney. Ignore the haters.”
Tam got the baby arranged on her lap and pulled up her shirt to feed her while I retrieved my wine.
“I meant to tell you… Samuel Purchase was asking about you today at Lyon’s Imperial Market,” Tam said.
I frowned as I sat on the far side of the couch. “Who?”
“Older guy?” Tam said. “Loves scarves? Has a yappy little dog called?—?”
“Oh, Admiral Barkington?” I shuddered lightly. “Yeah, we’ve met.”
She laughed softly. “Samuel said the Admiral was very taken with you. And since he’s the editor of our local paper—Samuel, I mean, not the dog—he wondered if you’d be interested in writing for them occasionally.”
I blinked at her in surprise. “Me? Writing for…”
“TheGazette,” Tam supplied. “And yeah. Why not? Their money’s as green as anyone else’s, and it would help get you involved in the community, wouldn’t it?”
“Maybe, but…” I frowned, trying to think of a way to explain it that she’d understand… and that wouldn’t make me sound like an asshole. “It’s like if Wells or Law decided to give up the NHL and play for a local rec team. My career might be taking a slight beating at the moment, but I don’t think it’s headed toward me covering the local Pumpkin Princess and the selection of apples at the grocery store either.”
At least I sincerely hoped it wasn’t. My career was an integral part of my identity.
Tam shrugged. “He said to hit him up if you were interested. But no pressure. If you’re not into it, fair enough.” After a pause, she asked, “Why is your career taking a beating?”
