Page 32 of Deep Gap

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When Kimber booted me from the kitchen, I beelined for the backyard, figuring I’d see Tallulah out there. When I bent to pat her, she knocked me on my ass. As I got to my knees, she began searching for Jovie. Half feeling remorse that I hadn’t brought her along, I did what any self-respecting dog lover would. I picked her up, took her back to the kitchen, and plopped all forty-plus pounds of her on Greer’s lap.

Tallulah washed Greer’s face in puppy kisses while Greer cooed to her. Then, exuberant over having her own important guests, Tallulah got excited, and we had to send her back outside to run off the zoomies that have Trig’s preschooler—now pumping on the swings with the older kids we’d seen—laughing all over himself.

“Are you having a good time?” I check in case we need to make a quick escape.

We’re washing our hands in the washroom. Kimber offered her a facecloth and gave us privacy so Greer could freshen up.

“These women are so pretty. And so nice.” There is bewilderment in her voice.

“See, you fit right in.” I touch my lips to her nose.

As we reenter the kitchen, Kimber is wadding and shoving plastic sacks behind a canister.

“Can I possibly have those?” Greer asks.

“Um, sure.” A curious Kimber watches Greer retake the spot she’d vacated at the counter to flatten and fold the bags.

“She weaves bedrolls with them for homeless vets,” I supply when Trig’s wife gives me an odd look.

Kimber scoots around the counter, squeezing my woman into a vise-like hug. “Oh my God, can we keep her, Trig?”

“Keep who? Greer? Nope, if that big belly you’re toting around hasn’t cued you in, My Love, we’re about to have a full house. Plus, we took Tallulah and by the end you know he was dragging his feet about giving up the dog. Greer is Byron’s.”

I snort. His argument has teeth to it.

“You are bringing her back,” Kimber commands.

I walk behind Greer and set my palms on her shoulders. “I will.”

Sloan, Kimber’s partner in crime, lifts a glass jar from the gift basket we brought and unscrews the lid. “This smells divine.” Sloan breathes in deeply.

“It’s beard oil with honey, and sandalwood and citrus extracts,” Greer’s hasty reply covers her skittish stutter.

She went to town building a basket filled with creature comforts; spa-quality lotions and soaps, eucalyptus shower steamers and bath bombs, beard oil and belly butter, which has something to do with stretch marks. Each afternoon, she’d been bursting with excitement to show me the next concoction. I’d gotten high on her buzz and we’d taken an impromptu ride to the store to find missing ingredients one evening. Although, as she packed everything into the basket, the concern Greer had that the gift wasn’t up to snuff was evident.

“Oh my gosh, are you the one who made all the soaps and lip balms for Christmas?” Sloan exclaims.

Greer blushes, nodding and shrinking a little in her seat, uncomfortable with the attention. “I put some shower jellies in there for Owen, Kimber, so he felt included, too. They’re in the shape of gummy bears. I just make sure he doesn’t put them in his mouth because they don’t taste quite as sweet as the real thing.” Greer fidgets, sticking out her tongue.

“Can I get one of these for my son? Maybe he’ll actually wash if he thinks he’s getting sticky and dirty instead.” Holly nudges Cece, whom I’ve met before. Her boyfriend is the handyman I would have insisted Greer call if she stayed in that shit hole apartment.

Cece takes the cellophane bag that looks like oversized gummy candy from Holly and requests jelly bears for her boyfriend’s daughter and Holly’s niece.

“Sure. I have extras I don’t know what to do with.”

“I need to tack on some lip balm because both little girls took what I had. Can I text you? And I can totally pay you now if you give me your Venmo.”

“What’s a Venmo?” Greer mouths, mystified. She’s given Cece her cell number.

“Don’t get flustered. We’ll get you set up with one.” I whisper in her ear.

Having met Kimber’s girlfriends before, I’m not as surprised by their eagerness to support Greer.

Everyone is sniffing and sampling. Kimber has splashed beard oil in her palm and is patting Trig’s jawline. Sloan asks if Greer can make the same scented bar soap.

“Do you know who’d love all of this? Paisley! Her boutique stocks the neatest stuff by her register. Paisley is big on sourcing items locally. I have her card with me.” Sloan is about to dash off for her purse.

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