The Girl in the Comfortable Quiet Read Free

instead of next to me?
    Struggling onto my feet, I hurry from the nursery
into the kitchen. I grab the cordless off the island and click it on.
    “Hello?” I pant.
    “Shit, are you OK? You sound out of breath.
You’re not in labor, are you?”
    Neil. Anxious and worrying about me.
Some things never change.
    Smiling, I sink down on a barstool. “No, not in
labor. Thank God, since just trying to get from room to room is exhausting
enough. Your kid is a monster, Neil. She’s huge.”
    Neil laughs. “Are you doing OK? How are my two
girls?”
    My smile grows larger. “We’re wonderful, but we
miss you. I haven’t looked at the itinerary yet today. Where are you?”
    “Rome.” He says it in a slow, kind of worn out
way.
    I make a pout. “Doesn’t sound like you’re
enjoying the European leg of the tour. I thought Rome was supposed to be
beautiful.”
    “Rome is all right, but I’d rather be home. I don’t
enjoy the road without you, and I’d really prefer to be closer to you right
now.”
    “I’d prefer that, too,” I whisper, feeling myself
become all mushy emotional again, only this time in a pleasant way.
    “Listen, I’ve been thinking—”
    “Don’t start, Neil,” I interrupt quickly. “I’m
not moving in with Jack until you’re off the road in January.”
    I hear a frustrated growl. “For once, will you
hear me out? I don’t like the thought of you alone on the mountain or trying to
drive yourself down the roads if you have an emergency. It’s only a few weeks.
I’d worry less, sleep better if I knew you were at Jack’s.”
    “Really, that’s not necessary. You make it sound
like we live in the middle of nowhere. It’s a ten minute drive to town. I’ve
got too much to do up here to go hang with Jack until you’re home again.”
    “Too much to do.” He sounds amused. “Like what?”
    I scrunch up my nose. “Today I’m painting
clouds.”
    A long pause and then laughter.
    “God, Chrissie. I don’t want to ask what you have
on your calendar tomorrow.”
    We both laugh and it feels good.
    “Be nice,” I chide.
    “I am being nice. Have you been working on your
music at all?”
    That question surprises me. When I showed Neil
the material I was working on in November, his expression screamed oh, here
is another Chrissie hobby. He didn’t seem to take it that seriously, for
all that he gets in Josh’s face about what a brilliant musician I am when Josh
lets loose a dose of his Seattle music elitism on me.
    “I’ve ten songs finished,” I say, trying to sound
casual when internally I am anything but indifferent. “Enough for a respectable
demo, don’t you think?”
    “That’s great,” Neil says, impressed. “I can’t
wait to hear them. You probably have enough material for a hundred albums in
your journals. Nate is right. You do write fucking incredible lyrics.”
    I ignore the compliment, though it really pleases
me. Instead, I say, “And guess what?”
    Neil laughs. “What?”
    “I’ve been recording the tracks, all by myself.
There is a learning curve to getting it right, especially doing it by myself,
and I definitely don’t have as much breath when I sing because of the baby, but
I don’t think they are completely awful.”
    “I don’t even need to hear them. They are not
awful at all. I bet it’s amazing work.”
    I shrug, more to myself than him. “Well, it keeps
me occupied and off the streets.”
    That makes Neil chuckle low in his chest. Good,
I’ve amused him. I can feel my eyes grow sparkly in that way they do when I’m
really happy.
    “I love you, Chrissie.”
    “I love you, too,” I whisper, feeling it in a
sweetly painful way that I really needed today. I’ve been more emotionally
messy than usual.
    “About that other thing we were discussing,” he
says calmly. He’s slipped it into the phone call very smoothly, but I tense
anyway. “Have you given it any thought? I think it’s a good plan. I think we
should do it. I don’t want to miss