Page 7 of Maid in Heaven

“Yeah, sure, find amusement in my pain.” Madison grimaced comically. “You’resick.”

“You okay? That sounded like it hurt.”

“Don’t. Just… don’t.” Madison held up a flat hand to Ava’s face, “Now, where’s the remote?”

Kuda jumped onto the bed and crawled toward them, scratching his belly across theduvet, hind legs limp. His chocolate-brown eyes glanced between both women and the frozen tub full of creamy dessert.

Ava searched the folds in the fabric, snatched the remote, and handed it to Madison. She navigated into one of the streaming apps on the flat screen.

“We don’t have to talk. But you need to know I’m here, andIneed to know you’re safe. So just tell me what you wanna watch.”

Silence.

“How aboutCasablanca?” Ava batted her eyelashes wildly like a hopeful child. Kuda whimpered and licked his lips in anticipation.

Madison found herself staring over attwosets of pleading eyes and scoffed. “Ugh, you and your old fart black-and-white movies.Fine. Whatever.”

Ava laid her head on Madison’s shoulder and sighed. “Thank you.”

Madison leaned away and craned her neck to look at Ava. “You know you smell like hot dogs and ass, right? When was the last time you showered?”

3

Will carried a largemixing bowl brimming with popcorn to the living room and spoke in his best faux-British accent, “‘Ere you go, yo’ majesty.”

Starla’s ocean-blue eyes lit up with excitement, and she let out a giddy giggle. Her crooked smile warmed his heart. “Thank you!”

Snatching the large container with her small hands, she nestled into her usual spot on the leather couch and wrapped herself in a princess-patterned throw.

A few stray pieces of popcorn tumbled to the floor only to be quickly vacuumed up by Gremlin, their portly pug. Her rotund body never seemed to impede her surprising speed and timing, especially when it came to fallen food.

“What are we watching tonight, Starla?” Will sat, wrapping an arm around her.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Pick something good,” Will muttered, plucking up a few buttery kernels.

As Starla scrolled through the selections, she took a deep breath and looked at her father. “Papa, can I ask you a question?”

“Sure. Shoot,” he said, lobbing popcorn into his smiling mouth.

“What’s agigolo?”

As the last syllable came out of her young mouth, Will choked. “Excuseme? Where did you learn that word?”

“Well,” she turned her body toward him, “Samantha said thather Mom saidthat you’re a gigolo.”

Will cleared his throat. “A gigolo… is an adult word.”

“Okay, but what is it?”

“It’s,” he thought long and hard about the next few words, “a… person who makes love with people… for money.”

“Makes love?”

He knew this conversation had to happen one day. He just hoped it would have beenlater…

Like when Starla was in grad school.

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