Page 47 of Nomad

“Chow’s up,” Cann said to Bud.

“We’re havin’ breakfast? In here?”

“That’s the plan.”

“You know, Johns, this might be the best day of my life.”

“That’s not sayin’ much, sugar. You’re still a kid.”

“For fifteen more hours. If you call me a kid again after that, you will be bopped.”

He laughed. “Bopped?”

“You know what I mean.”

He shook his head. “I don’t.”

“Well, call me a kid tomorrow and you’ll find out.”

He knew she wasn’t a kid on the inside whether it was that day or the next, but he took a perverse pleasure in seeing the fire light behind her eyes.

When they climbed the steps to exit the pool, two staff members rushed forward with thick white terry robes. One small. One extra large.

“Gracias,” Bud said, smiling at Cann like she’d become bilingual.

They sat down in front of a breakfast fit for European monarchy.

“Steak!” Bud said. “I’ve got steak!”

“I know,” Cann said.

“I love steak,” she continued. “Maybe not quite so done, but still…”

“The extra grilling’s a precaution. Just to make sure you don’t pick up anything that would make you sick.”

“Right.” She peeled an orange and found that the flesh inside was bright red. After popping a section in her mouth, she hummed then said, “This is beautiful and good. So good.” She looked at the pool, the thick white robe, and at Cann who had lifted a glass with red juice and leafy celery sticks, “Is that what I think it is?”

“Bloody Mary.”

“Oh. My. God.”

Cann chuckled and nodded. “I know. Life is strange.”

“It’s like that book, you know,The Secret?”

He shook his head. “No. I don’t know.”

“Well, it says if you say what you want in the right way at the right time, it’ll happen.”

Cann put down his glass and stared at her for a few beats before saying,“I don’t want to spend more than three nights in jail for this.”

“I want to find a way to go back to school after the baby is born.”

“I want to find the guy who killed my family.”

“I want my baby to always be safe.”

“I want your baby to always be safe.”