The Master and The Muses. Amanda Mcintyre

interesting book if you’ve forgotten that I am carrying your child.”

      Thomas slammed the book shut, laid it on his lap and stretched his hands over his head. He gave me a lopsided grin. “I’m no good with names, my muse. I will let you decide.”

      He tapped his fingers on the hard leather cover of the book, staring down at it as if pondering whether to return to his reading.

      “Perhaps we could name him after your father, if it’s a boy.”

      “No,” he said decisively, slapping the book.

      “Your mother perhaps, if it’s a girl?”

      His eyes rose and held steady on mine. “Perhaps we should come up with something unique, instead of hanging a used name on him.”

      “Or her.” I smiled.

      “Yes.” He yawned. “Of course…Would you mind awfully if I ran down to McGivney’s? Some of the brothers are meeting for a game of darts.”

      “Oh, that sounds like fun,” I said as I put my knitting aside. “Let me get my shawl. I’d like to get out.”

      He rose and came to my side, placing his hand on my shoulder. “It’s dreadfully loud and smoky down there, my muse. And odds are that the brothers will have been drinking and you know how they get. You can barely stomach their antics when they’re sober.” He laughed and kissed the top of my head. “I won’t be long, but you needn’t wait up. You need your rest.”

      “Then I guess we’re through with discussing names?” I asked, watching as he put on his heavy jacket to walk the few blocks down the street. He plopped his hat atop his head and smiled over his shoulder.

      “I have no doubt you will find the perfect name for the child.” With that, he hurried down the steps and out the front door.

      I glanced at the book he’d left behind and prayed that Annie was not working tonight.