security. But Emma was happy and, strangely, that made him happy.
“I don’t see what was wrong with the name Stimpy.”
“Stimpy was ugly.”
“And you named her Marla after...”
“Marla Hooch from League of Their Own,” she mumbled.
“Oh, and she was a looker.”
“Shut up. Her name is Marla.”
He grinned.
There were so many hidden parts of Central Park. It was nice to take the time to enjoy the open space. Having a dog gave them an excuse to lounge around in the grass and sun and still believe they were accomplishing something, because dogs needed exercise.
“My sister comes back tomorrow.”
“I know. She’s going to freak out when she finds out we have a dog.”
He worried Emma might forget about him when Rarity returned. “Do you think things will be different when she comes home?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged, trying not to appear overly concerned. “I don’t know. Us hanging out, you and Rarity doing your thing.”
“We could all hang out together.”
“Sure,” he agreed, but that wasn’t the same.
Once Rarity returned, Emma would have her best friend around for all her little adventures and feats. She’d confide in Rarity and sooner or later he’d just be the roommate again.
Marla returned, dropped the saturated ball on the grass, and collapsed beside them. Emma filled a tiny pink travel bowl with bottled water.
“There you go, baby.”
The dog panted and lapped up the entire offering then nestled beside them on the quilt.
He eased back and made a pillow of the dog and Emma did the same. Clouds drifted overhead and there was a quiet moment of peace shared between the three of them.
“That one looks like a sailboat.” She pointed to the sky.
“This is what our conversations have reduced to, cloud watching?”
Nose wrinkled, she grouched, “What’s wrong with cloud watching?”
“Nothing. It just means we have nothing else in common to talk about. It’s sad really, the death of intrigue between new friends.”
“Aren’t you in a dark mood.”
“No, I’m not. I’d just prefer more stimulating conversation than ‘Oh, that one looks like a dinosaur’.”
“Fine. What’s your greatest fear,” she asked and he grinned at the challenge.
“Ice age. Era not movie.”
“An ice age, really?”
“Yes, really. And don’t roll your eyes. More are coming. They decapitate mountains and cover the earth in sheets of ice eight times the height of the Empire State Building. You’d never survive one.”
She laughed. “And you would?”
“I’d have a better shot than you. It’s just the nature of the beast. I’m a survivor. You’d be in a heap on the floor watching Hugh Grant movies while hugging a pillow.”
She smacked his arm. “I should probably be insulted.”
“But?”
“You’re probably right.”
He chuckled. “Now, a zombie apocalypse, that you might have a shot at surviving.”
“Because it’s totally improbable?”
“Oh, zombies are real and when they come, I’ll be ready. Get yourself a crossbow and some sturdy boots and I might let you join my regiment.”
“You’re a moron.”
He faced her. “What’s your biggest fear?” Her eyes were closed, the sun painting her cheeks in a soft gold hue.
“That I’ll never be enough.”
His brow creased. She’d lost him. “Enough for what?”
“Someone’s love... trust, loyalty... everything that’s worth anything. I want to be worth something.”
“You are.” He scowled. How could she believe she was worthless?
“I mean, by just being myself. I’m so tired of pushing to be more than I actually am. We have to be so much. It’s a lot of pressure and I always feel like I’m coming up short no matter how hard I try. I wish it was enough to just be me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You’re afraid of zombies and ice ages.”
“Touché.” He studied her for a long moment. “I think you’re just fine the way you are, Em.”
“It’s only natural to want to
“I don’t see what was wrong with the name Stimpy.”
“Stimpy was ugly.”
“And you named her Marla after...”
“Marla Hooch from League of Their Own,” she mumbled.
“Oh, and she was a looker.”
“Shut up. Her name is Marla.”
He grinned.
There were so many hidden parts of Central Park. It was nice to take the time to enjoy the open space. Having a dog gave them an excuse to lounge around in the grass and sun and still believe they were accomplishing something, because dogs needed exercise.
“My sister comes back tomorrow.”
“I know. She’s going to freak out when she finds out we have a dog.”
He worried Emma might forget about him when Rarity returned. “Do you think things will be different when she comes home?”
“What do you mean?”
He shrugged, trying not to appear overly concerned. “I don’t know. Us hanging out, you and Rarity doing your thing.”
“We could all hang out together.”
“Sure,” he agreed, but that wasn’t the same.
Once Rarity returned, Emma would have her best friend around for all her little adventures and feats. She’d confide in Rarity and sooner or later he’d just be the roommate again.
Marla returned, dropped the saturated ball on the grass, and collapsed beside them. Emma filled a tiny pink travel bowl with bottled water.
“There you go, baby.”
The dog panted and lapped up the entire offering then nestled beside them on the quilt.
He eased back and made a pillow of the dog and Emma did the same. Clouds drifted overhead and there was a quiet moment of peace shared between the three of them.
“That one looks like a sailboat.” She pointed to the sky.
“This is what our conversations have reduced to, cloud watching?”
Nose wrinkled, she grouched, “What’s wrong with cloud watching?”
“Nothing. It just means we have nothing else in common to talk about. It’s sad really, the death of intrigue between new friends.”
“Aren’t you in a dark mood.”
“No, I’m not. I’d just prefer more stimulating conversation than ‘Oh, that one looks like a dinosaur’.”
“Fine. What’s your greatest fear,” she asked and he grinned at the challenge.
“Ice age. Era not movie.”
“An ice age, really?”
“Yes, really. And don’t roll your eyes. More are coming. They decapitate mountains and cover the earth in sheets of ice eight times the height of the Empire State Building. You’d never survive one.”
She laughed. “And you would?”
“I’d have a better shot than you. It’s just the nature of the beast. I’m a survivor. You’d be in a heap on the floor watching Hugh Grant movies while hugging a pillow.”
She smacked his arm. “I should probably be insulted.”
“But?”
“You’re probably right.”
He chuckled. “Now, a zombie apocalypse, that you might have a shot at surviving.”
“Because it’s totally improbable?”
“Oh, zombies are real and when they come, I’ll be ready. Get yourself a crossbow and some sturdy boots and I might let you join my regiment.”
“You’re a moron.”
He faced her. “What’s your biggest fear?” Her eyes were closed, the sun painting her cheeks in a soft gold hue.
“That I’ll never be enough.”
His brow creased. She’d lost him. “Enough for what?”
“Someone’s love... trust, loyalty... everything that’s worth anything. I want to be worth something.”
“You are.” He scowled. How could she believe she was worthless?
“I mean, by just being myself. I’m so tired of pushing to be more than I actually am. We have to be so much. It’s a lot of pressure and I always feel like I’m coming up short no matter how hard I try. I wish it was enough to just be me.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You’re afraid of zombies and ice ages.”
“Touché.” He studied her for a long moment. “I think you’re just fine the way you are, Em.”
“It’s only natural to want to
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