Godblog. Laurie Channer

paid for it.”

      He lingered at her table. “If I give you the rest of the brownie chunks I have back there,” he jerked his thumb over his shoulder, “will you teach me how to juggle?”

      “See what I can do,” Rhoswen said around a mouthful of whipped cream.

      “I’ve got a break in fifteen minutes,” Dag said.

      She nodded and waved him off. “Go away now. I think she wants you.” Heathen was waving frantically for him to come back and make up orders.

      “See ya.” Dag bolted.

      When he joined her at the table on his break, brownie bits attractively plated on a paper doily, the cup was empty. “You finished all that?”

      “I’ll finish all these, too,” she said, “but I’ll have to take them to go.” She started wrapping them up in her napkin. “I just noticed the time. I have to catch the eight-thirty Greyhound back to Vancouver.”

      “You’re not staying in town? When am I going to learn to juggle?”

      She eyed him. “When are you coming to Vancouver next?”

      “I’m actually moving there in the next week or two.”

      “Yeah?” Rhoswen said through a mouthful of brownie. “Gotta place yet?”

      “No, I’m looking. I’ll search on Craigslist.”

      Rhoswen paused for a moment, then plunged in. “I need a roommate,” she said. “No smoking, though. It’s a one-bedroom. I get the bedroom, you can have the living room. I’m never in it, anyway, so it’s mostly just like private. But I have one of those IKEA screens if you want to get girly about it. And this is not a boyfriend-thing,” she added. “I’ve already got one of those.”

      “Living in?”

      She looked him up and down. “No. Your share would be three-fifty. So, you interested?”

      “Yeah,” Dag said.

      “Cool,” Rhoswen said. “Here’s my number and my gmail.” She took out a pen and wrote it on a napkin. “We can talk details later.

      I’m going to miss my bus if I don’t ankle.”

      She picked up her bag and scooted out.

      • • •

      “Got a date, superstar?” Heathen said, nodding at the napkin when he came back to the bar.

      “Better,” he said. “I got a place to stay in the city now. And she’s going to teach me how to juggle.”

      Heathen sniffed disdainfully. “I guess I don’t have to ask how her marks were in school.”

      “Maybe she went to circus school,” Dag said.

      “In your dreams, snowboy.”

      They started closing up early, at ten thirty, with no one in the store. Heathen locked up, then looked across at Black’s Pub, two hundred yards away. “Happy sounds of drinking people,” she said. “Let’s go have a beer.”

      “I got stuff to do at home.”

      “You can masturbate later.” She tugged at his arm. “Have a beer with me. I want a witness for when my coach says I was out all night, and I swear I only stayed for one.”

      “Is that going to be true, or am I going to be one of those witnesses you bribe with several beers to keep pace with you, and then we both lie about it later?”

      Heathen sighed. “I don’t do that any more. Nobody gets that I’ve reformed.”

      After she insisted that they check each other for stray BlackArts doofage, they traipsed over to Shredder Steve’s. It was Friday, though, and packed. “Fuck, we’ll never get a spot in here,” Dag said. “Let’s go to Tapley’s.”

      “No, look, someone’s got a spot for us.” Heathen waved and dragged him over to where Rhoswen was sitting at a table for four, alone. She waved over to them. Heathen immediately plunked down in a chair. Dag stayed standing. “You got friends coming back for these seats?”

      “Nope, just holding them for you guys. You wouldn’t believe the crowds I’ve had to fight off.”

      Dag sat, looking puzzled. “What are you doing here?” he said. “You miss your bus?”

      “That was a little white lie. I’m actually staying with my spinster auntie.”

      “Why’d you lie? And how’d you know to save us seats?”

      Rhoswen giggled. “Haven’t you guessed?”

      Heathen leaned forward conspiratorially. “Dag can be kind of dumb, but I heard he went for it.”

      “Like a shot.” The two women high-fived.

      “What the hell—?” Dag said.

      “You doofus!” Rhoswen crowed. “You’re totally busted! I’m Grace! Heather’s niece!”

      “You can’t be,” he said. “You’re Rhoswen. Grace is supposed to be this brainy bookworm type.”

      “You think I wear my straight A’s on my sweater?” Grace said. “Sorry, but they snag something awful.”

      “Did you totally not see that coming?” Heathen said to Dag. “God, you’re thick.”