“Wow, no wonder you kept that hidden.”
“You done having fun at my expense?”
“I think so.”
He sighed again.
“What?” Luna asked him.
“It’s been a day already, and there’s still a chunk of it to go.”
“What else has happened?”
“When I got home a horse was there. Pony, actually.”
“Not your pony?”
“Why would I be surprised my pony was on my property?” He looked genuinely confused.
“Not entirely sure,” Luna said and then shut up. She wanted to hear what he said next.
“So this little pony kicked at my door. I answered it and there she was. Her ribs sticking out, coat all filthy, and hooves overgrown. Like I said, it’s been a day.”
“Aww, is she cute?” He gave her that look men give women when they say things like that, then pulled out his phone and showed her a picture. “So cute, and how is that phone even working?” Luna asked him.
“It does everything I need.” He shoved it back into his pocket. “You and the rest of this town need to move on to more important things than my phone.”
She wanted to smile; the man was cute when he wasn’t being a shithead. “So, what are you going to do with the pony?”
“I asked the vet to find her owner.”
“But until then you have custody?” Luna asked. This morning she’d thrown water over this man, and now they were having what passed as a civil conversation in the health food section of a grocery store. Weird. But then she’d already worked out this place was that and more.
“I guess so, but she can’t stay with me. She needs kids to play with and ride her.”
“Ponies can be mean though.”
“And then some,” he agreed. “Maggs got bitten by hers plenty of times.”
“What are you going to call her?”
“She’s not mine.” He gave her a look that said her question was a dumb one.
“Sure, but she needs a name until she goes, surely. You can’t just call her pony.” She was messing with him, and not sure why, but she was enjoying this strange conversation with a man who this morning she’d wanted to maim. “How about Monica? We had a pony growing up, and she was called that,” Luna said.
“We?” He leaned his weight on one hip to study her.
“My family. I have two siblings. Monica was our little gray pony.” She’d loved that horse so much, especially after her mom had died.
“No to Monica, because I’m not naming her.”
His eyes were suddenly locked on hers as they both fell silent. Luna would be lying if she said she hadn’t noticed the tension between them. It had simmered from the minute she’d met him.
“Can you maybe wear silly makeup and ugly yourself down a bit while you’re in town?”
“Only if you can, because you have that face too,” she said. She felt breathless, her lungs so tight she struggled to breathe. Her, the woman who had walked the runways worldwide and made speeches to hundreds of people.
“Just one,” he muttered, “then I’m avoiding you.”