Page 90 of Sass in the Grass

“Hey, baby. Good morning. Come on out here.”

Jovian rubbed his eyes adorably, then pushed the screen and came outside, sitting immediately on Cherokee’s lap. “Morning.”

“You were sleeping so good, I didn’t want to make any noise.”

“Why don’t you have a dog?”

That was random. “Uh, I did. He was pretty old. Lost him about a year ago.”

“That’s sad,” he said with genuine sorrow in his voice. “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

When he said that word, daddy, to Cherokee, it lit him all over his body. Mostly, though, it touched his heart. “Well, baby boy, he was a good dog and very old. He lived a good life with me here. I’m thinking about getting another pup sometime. Maybe you can help me pick him.”

“Or her. I prefer girl dogs.”

“Why’s that?”

“I can dress them. I’ve always wanted a Yorkie, and I’d put little ribbons in her hair.”

“Well, baby, I can’t have a little dog like that. An owl or hawk would take that little dog and fly off with it.”

His jaw dropped comically, and he whined, “That’s horrible!”

“That’s living where I live, baby. You…you live in the city, though.”

“But I could live out, you know, out like this one day.”

“Would that interest you?”

Jovian set his hand on Cherokee’s face and looked him in the eye so sweetly Cherokee wanted to confess things better left until later. “Anywhere you are interests me. Don’t you know that?”

“I suppose I do, but it’s nice to be reminded.”

Cherokee delighted his boy by carrying him inside the house and depositing him in a chair at the table while he started on breakfast.

“I love this breakfast,” Jovian said after he’d started eating. “How did you master that stove?”

“I didn’t make it on the stove today. I have a hot plate I use when it’s too hot to use the wood stove.”

“You couldn’t have told me that?”

Cherokee smiled and informed him, “I did not know you wanted to cook for me. Besides, I use as little electricity as possible.”

“Oh,” he said, then got suspiciously quiet.

“What?”

“It’s just that, well, I use a lot. My music, my blow dryer, my cappuccino machine…”

“You don’t like my coffee?”

“I actually love your coffee, strangely enough,” he said, then bit his lips.

“I’m not offended. I just make it the way people have made it for centuries, that’s all. I do what those machines do. It might take a little longer, but…”

“I didn’t mean to sound so…”

“Condescending?”

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