Page 32 of Romancing the Clone
With a thumbs-up in response, I grab Pluto’s harness again and head out of the building. I pause to eye the ever-elongating Main Street, noting that there’s another building popping up next to Sunrise Cantina, and what looks like markings for one after that. I wonder what side of the street I’ll be on.
Doesn’t matter. There’s so much demand for my baked goods that I’ll be a success no matter where I’m located. Excited, I all but skip towards the cantina and open the door. Or try to—it’s locked. The place doesn’t open for another hour. I bang on the door and resist the urge to shove my face against the glass. I can’t stop grinning.
A familiar face appears, and for a moment I think it’s Ruth-Ann with her hair pulled back. But as the woman gets to the door, I see that it’s Ruthie. She’s wearing a red kerchief overher normally spiky short hair and has a different nose-hoop in today. She smiles at me and unlocks the door, dusting her hands off on her overalls as she does. “Hey stranger.”
“Hey. Don’t suppose you’ve seen the sexiest woman in Port around?” I tease.
“Every time I look in the mirror,” she jokes back, then points at the back of the cantina. “She’s cleaning the restrooms.”
“Oof.” I make a face. “Did she lose a bet?”
“Her?” Ruthie’s pierced brow goes up. “You know she always wins her bets. But we’re shorthanded and now she’s having to fill in for Jerzec. It was his job.”
And Jerzec left with theScarlet Gazeearlier this week. My poor wifey must be cussing up a storm. Organizing, she loves. Cleaning and putting things away, she enjoys. Cleaning up after strangers in a public bathroom…not so much. “I’ll see if she needs help, then.”
“Get some rubber gloves,” she advises, then kneels down to rub Pluto all over his face. “Look at this boy!” she coos. “You want a snack, buddy?”
He licks her face, excited, but doesn’t leave my side. I lean over and tap his haunch. “Go with Ruthie, Pluto. She’ll get you a treat.”
He whines, looking at me for a moment longer, then pads away after Ruthie, heading to the kitchen with her. I move toward the bathrooms at the far end of the cantina, and as I approach, I can hear Ruth-Ann cussing up a storm under her breath.
“Knock knock,” I say as I rap my knuckles on the half-open door. There’s a heavy smell of cleaners in the air.
Ruth-Ann makes a pained noise from inside the bathroom. “You don’t want to come in. No one deserves to see what I’ve scraped off the floors here.” She appears a moment later, a mopin hand, an expression of pure disgust on her face. “I’d offer to kiss you but I need a really hot shower after cleaning this mess.”
My poor wifey looks disheveled and sweaty from her work. I peer around the corner. “It looks clean.”
“Now,” she emphasizes. “It looks cleannow.”
A giggle of sympathy threatens to escape my throat, but I manage to hold it in. “I’m sorry, babe. I have good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”
“It depends.” She peels off a plastic glove and tosses it into the now-sparkling sink. “Is the bad news that whoever made the mess in here is coming back tonight? Because if that’s the case, I’m calling in dead.”
This time I laugh. “No, that’s not the bad news.” I hold the plas-paper out to her. “The good news is that we got approved for our bakery. The bad news is that it’ll take five months for them to build it for us.”
Her gaze flicks up to me, then back to the paper. She snatches it out of my hand and scans it, though I know she can’t read alien writing, either. Her face slowly lights up, and I love watching the smile uncurl across her face. “This is the layout?”
“It is.”
She smiles wider and moves a little closer. “I’m not going to hug you, but I’m thinking about it really hard right now.”
I can’t help but smile back at her. “We’ll hug it out the moment you shower. I promise.” I reach out and brush a strand of sweaty hair back from her forehead, because it’s impossible not to touch her. “What do you think?”
Her gaze goes over the printout again. “I think it’s exciting. I’m so happy for you.”
“Happy for us,” I point out. “It’s yours, too. Just because I’m baking there doesn’t mean it’s just mine. This is our business, together.” Ruth-Ann’s been doing profit and loss statements for me since she realized I wasn’t and had no idea if I was makingenough money or not. She loves a good set of data. In addition, she’s been baking with me at night, and we’ve been working together to make different cake flavors for the cantina. I’m always “paid” by a cut of the restaurant’s dessert earnings, but I’d do it for free. It helps the cantina be a success, and it makes Ruth-Ann happy.
And I’m a sucker for my wife being happy.
“I’m so excited,” she says, beaming up at me. “Can we kiss? I promise my mouth is clean.”
“It had better be.” I cup her face in my hands and plant a kiss on her. One smacking, cheery one, followed by a longer, more tender one just because I can never kiss her just once. It has to be multiple kisses, frequent kisses. She just has the best mouth. I kiss her a third time, just because. Then I lift my head and grin at her. “But since the bakery’s not going to be ready for five months, that means I have some free time. Want me to put on a uniform and help with the cantina?”
“God, yes. Say more sexy things.”
I kiss her again. “Love you, wifey.”
“Love you more,” she replies, her eyes soft.
I don’t know that such a thing is possible, but we have forever to find out.