When I woke up and looked out the window in the stairwell Matt and Sam were by the pool, drinking coffee and eating what appeared to be chocolate croissants, sharing a newspaper, smiling at each other as if everything is right with the world again.
Maybe it is, because for a brief moment I thought we had chocolate croissants in the house. We don't because Matt brought two. TWO.
Be right back. Heading out to flatten some tires.
***
Lochlan wasn't happy that Schuyler put himself in harms way. He wasn't happy that Caleb showed up again with a bone to pick. He wasn't happy about anything and he made the rounds before coming at last to me and he wasn't happy with me either, it seems, though I listened to his instructions and haven't gone near the Devil, who, incredibly enough is really fucking angry that I went ahead and changed my name after digging in my heels for the best part of a decade since and he thought he was safe.
Yeah, so did I, once.
In any case, nice to meet you. I'm now sporting a name that's synonymous with Scottish raincoats, English toffee, American computers and one really stupidly good-looking redhead and now I'm less Irish but more of a blend and that's okay. MacIntosh is a good solid name and he is very proud that I have it now. Very proud. Kind of ego-peacock-Lochlan proud which worries me and is getting a bit annoying but hey, I signed up for this. Literally. My new license arrived and there's no going back now.
And Caleb has the nerve to say this morning that I had his last name for over thirteen years (via my marriage to Cole) so Lochlan still has to beat that. I swear Caleb has a death wish sometimes. Only it's for me instead of himself. I hope I get a croissant before he crosses that line. I'm really hungry now.
