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My Husband: Why are you looking at pictures of tattooed men on the internet?

Me: I'm trying to pick something for the snippet today, and I wanted someone who was somewhat close to Will.

My Husband: Just use a picture of me.

Me: Once again, I repeat, you are NOT Will.

Husband: *remains unconvinced*


So this picture doesn't look much like Will and Savvy--the baby is too young and Will is blond, but eh, whatcha going to do. But yes, my husband is convinced that Will is based on him. I've tried to convince him otherwise--but they do share some things. I mean, my husband looks nothing like Will. He is a body piercer, though, and heavily tattooed. We do joke that he has caylming pheromones. My husband is beloved by all small things--babies, dogs, cats, reptiles, whatever. He seriously has some sort of magic touch with kids. Our friend's daughter would cry every time I held her and then instantly stop when my husband took her. His name was her third word, right after "mom" and "dad." Once when Smalls was fighting nap time for two hours I had my husband message me a short video (he was at work) telling Smalls to go to sleep. Smalls watched it, hiccuped, said, "okay," and rolled over and went to sleep.

I'd spent TWO HOURS rocking that kid, reading to him, sitting with him...and all it took for my husband was a 20 second video clip of hims saying, "Go to sleep. Stop messing around and driving your mom nuts. Go to sleep." 

I both love and am irritated by his powers. 

Okay, and my husband is a hugger. I have absolutely stole a few of his work stories (with his permission). This is how I build characters, though. Trick, for example, is not my friend Alex at all, but his aesthetic is similar. I share some things with Van and Lou, but I'm not them. (Kind of wish I was? I want to be a witch! And have ferrets! And a werewolf! And...)

Anyway, I'm almost done with Rough Around the Hedges, so BTLN will recommence soon. Thanks again for your patience. In the mean time, here's a snippet from Van's point of view. She's babysitting her niece, Savvy, who is teething.


The front door opened and I almost collapsed in relief. It’s a bit of a running joke that we all think that Will gives off a calming pheromone, but it must be true. He had an incredibly soothing presence, and right now he looked like a big, tattooed angel. He set a bag down on the table, stripped off his hoodie, tossing it onto the back of the couch while he toed off his shoes. My roommate, Declan, strictly enforced the “no shoes in the house” policy in our home.

Without a word, Will came over and held out his arms. Savvy threw herself into them with a hiccup. Now that she’d stopped crying, my ferret familiars, Kodo and Podo, peeked out from their hiding place under the couch.

Some help you two were, I mentally grumbled at them.

She’s loud! Kodo squeaked.

Podo chittered a lengthy lecture about healthy kits having good lungs at Kodo that I mostly tuned out, returning my attention to Will and Savvy.

Will cradled her to him, rocking her exactly like I’d been doing, rubbing a big hand over her back. “Bag.”

I dug into the bag he’d set down, pulling out a variety of things. A teether for the freezer. Frozen waffles. Baby Tylenol. Apples and a six pack of cider. I lifted up the cider, my eyebrow raised.

“The cider is for you,” Will said, using one hand to rub Saavy’s feet as he rocked her. “I hit the internet hard at the store—it said chilled food like apple slices, or frozen waffles could help. You could also give her chilled purees or a cold wash cloth to chew on. The Tylenol is safe—I double checked with the pharmacist, and I know Jules has given it to her before.”

Inexplicably my eyes teared up and I was suddenly overwhelmed with feelings.

I hated feelings. They were the opposite of helpful.

Will stopped rubbing Savvy’s feet so he could sling an arm around me and pull me close. “Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

I shamelessly buried my face into his chest. “It’s just her crying makes me so jangly and I—.” I growled in frustration.

Will started gently rocking both of us. “It’s supposed to make you jangly. She’s upset and that makes you upset, because you’re not a robot.”

“I want to be a robot.”

“I know,” he said. “But where would we put the oil?”

I snorted. “That doesn’t even make any sense.” I didn’t pull away, because it felt good to be soothed. To know that someone, for a second, had me. Would take care of me.

That was the worst thing about becoming an adult. Everything was on you. But for a second I could pretend that I wasn’t in charge, and also admit that I didn’t know what I was doing, and it was okay. Will wouldn’t judge me.

So I closed my eyes and accepted that he would make things better. He even smelled good. Will’s job involved burning incense, sage and other things, so sometimes his scent was a mixed bag, but sniffing him always made me feel better. See what I’m saying about calming pheromones? And yes, I recognize that smelling my best friend was weird. But some people just smelled good, okay?

I opened my eyes and my niece was staring contentedly back at me. He hadn’t even used the teething shit yet. Just himself. “I both love that I have you as a secret weapon, while being simultaneously resentful that you have that ability.”

He laughed into my hair. “If I wasn’t here, you’d handle it. But I am here, so let me help out.”

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