Page 45 of High Frequency

“Nope, I’m outta here.” Then he turns to me. “I’ll be here at eight tomorrow morning. I’ll grab us some breakfast.”

I clap him on the shoulder.

“Thanks, man. Appreciated.”

As JD heads for his truck, a loud wail comes from the Jeep’s back seat. She brought Aspen.

Sloane has her hands full, so I pull open the back door, finding the little one with her face scrunched up, loudly voicing her displeasure.

“What’s going on in here? Momma put you in the car and then forgot about you?” I spout nonsense at her as I struggle to get the damn seat belts off her. “Well, we’re gonna fix that, aren’t we?”

When I’m finally able to lift her out of the car and settle her against my shoulder, her crying stops immediately. Sloane is standing by the stairs, a grin on her face.

“Hope you don’t mind I brought her.”

“Why would I mind?” I pass her and carry Aspen up the steps to the porch, where I sit down in one of the camping chairs, rearranging the baby on my lap.

Sloane joins me, setting the pizza box on the cooler between the two chairs. Then she peels a beer from the six-pack and offers it to me, before placing the remaining ones by my feet.

“The family is over at Fletch and Nella’s, but I didn’t feel up to it. It’s more of a beer and pizza night with my feet up.”

“So sit,” I prompt her.

“Just let me grab her stuff from the car.”

I watch as she pauses by the front door opening, leaning inside.

“Oh wow, I can’t believe how much of a house it already is. It went up so much faster than I thought it would.”

“It’s because it comes like a building kit. It’s just a matter of following the instructions and fitting the right pieces together. Still, it’s only a shell—walls and a roof—which looks good from a distance, but it’s a far cry from being habitable. There’s a ton of work left to be done before you can call it a house.”

“Be that as it may,” she returns with a smile over her shoulder as she continues to her vehicle. “What is here is already stunning. I can only imagine what it’ll look like when it’s finished.”

I like that she likes it. I like it a lot, even though I force myself not to get carried away.

She returns a moment later with Aspen’s car seat and a diaper bag. Then she plucks the baby off my lap and lifts her over her head, smiling at her as tiny hands grab for her face.

“You can sit with us while we eat, okay, Nugget? Mommy brought you a nice cold ring to chew on.”

She blows a raspberry in the baby’s neck that has the little one smiling wide, before plopping her in her seat. The promised ring is quickly produced and Aspen grabs for it with both hands, shoving it in her drooling mouth.

“Teething?”

“Is she ever,” Sloane acknowledges, dropping down in the other chair with a deep sigh. “Well, we should probably eat before she gets fussy again.”

The pizza is good, loaded with protein and other great stuff. We talk while we eat. Mostly I ask questions and Sloane tells me about her case. The little one eventually falls asleep in her seat around the time she apparently goes to bed normally.

It’s nice, sharing some food and a beer, talking effortlessly about random stuff, and even the silences are comfortable with Sloane. If you ask me, this date beats sitting at a fancy restaurant or going to a movie. I’m relaxed, she’s relaxed, and nothing beats this view.

With only two slices left in the box, I slide down in my chair, full and sated, as I stretch my legs in front of me and watch as the setting sun gives the river and the mountains a deep golden hue.

“Gorgeous,” she whispers beside me.

“Yes,” I agree, as I glance over and catch her eyes.

When I reach out to her, she places her hand in mine without hesitation. I close my fingers around hers.

“Thank you for this. It’s a perfect way to end an exhausting but productive day.”

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