Re: Mayflowers: Jack & Max
Amanda Main. [The little girl at the table corrected. Seven years old, and with an imperious gaze, and her tone said she didn't like this turn of events, even if she was too polite to say it outright.
Max laughed as she went, because she knew her daughter wasn't pleased about her change of identity. Max didn't blame her, but Brandon came around enough that Amanda wasn't as upset about as she'd been at first, and the child was settling into her new surroundings well. The flower shop was, inadvertently, a good playground. The floors upstairs could be castles or war zones for an imaginative child, and Amanda was already claiming corners for forts and telescopes. It was a rich world, and Max was glad things seemed to be calming down in that regard.
It didn't make her worry any less about Brandon's involvement in whatever he was involved with, but it was better than when he'd arrived.]
How's the food in your new efficiency? I don't know. You tell me. [She grinned. Max still couldn't cook. Even with Amanda living with her, takeout was the norm, and her daughter had finally stopped complaining about that as much too.] If you cook, Amanda will love you. [A grin over her shoulder as she moved into the empty space.] Chicken nuggets don't count, and are you telling me she sounds impossible?
[Which, honestly, Amanda did.
She looked at the extended hand, but why not? Fingers out, and she tugged him to the window that overlooked the brightly lit East Village block below. Tourists everywhere, and it was pretty for New York.] Your new apartment is five hundred feet, Corvus.