Free Spur of the Moment by Theresa Alan Page B

this neat, or if he was trying to impress her. She couldn’t remember if it had been neat the first night she was here or not (she hadn’t been concerned with his house-keeping skills at the time). In any case, he wouldn’t have had much time to clean between Friday night, working a 24-hour shift on Saturday, and now, so it couldn’t have been that bad to start with.
    There were only two pictures on the wall, and both were sketches of women. One was an old woman in profile, the other was a younger, though not young, woman, her dark eyes intense yet friendly.
    â€œDid you draw these?” Chelsey asked. He nodded. “Are they of anybody in particular?”
    â€œThis is my mom, and this is my grandmother. They are both amazing women. They’re very strong women. You’d like them.”
    Chelsey liked how he spoke of such reverence for his mother and grandmother. Maybe it was an Indian thing. She seemed to remember that Native American culture was more matrilineal than European culture. Then again, her knowledge of things Native American was rather rusty. Or more accurately, nonexistent.
    The sketches were beautiful. She told him so. “Any other family?”
    â€œI’ve got two younger sisters, a few aunts. They’re still on the reservation.”
    â€œIn southern Colorado? New Mexico?”
    â€œSouth Dakota.”
    â€œWhat brought you out here?”
    â€œMy dad got me a job fighting fires in Aspen about eight years ago. Then I got a full-time job at the fire station in Denver a year later and I started taking classes at the Art Institute, so I’ve been here ever since. I visit my mom and sisters a lot though. I try to go to every sun dance and powwow. It’s only twelve hours away. It’s a nice drive. Are you ready for breakfast?”
    â€œSure.”
    â€œMimosa?”
    â€œSure.”
    After drinks he brought out the rest of the meal. Eggs benedict plus hash browns and toast. Oh Christ, Chelsey thought, more calories than she usually ate in two days. She just smiled and ate slowly. She tried to let herself enjoy it. She’d just work out a little harder tomorrow and restrict her calories for the next few days. Being a personal trainer meant Chelsey was incapable of not counting calories and fat grams of everything she put into her body. She told her clients that the occasional break from calorie counting was okay, but she herself had a hard time shutting off the habit.
    After breakfast, they drove over to Chelsey’s side of town and walked along Broadway, going into the used books stores and art galleries and furniture stores, which ranged from gross-used, to cool-used, to super-expensive cool-new.
    Chelsey sat on a lime green couch in one of the super swanky furniture stores and Rob sat next to her. The couch’s back and arms swooped in a wave. The store managers had decorated the area around the couch to give customers a feel for how they could arrange their own living rooms, so beside the couch was a purple divan, and on the floor was a carpet with shapes of circles, triangles, and squares in black, red, lime green, and purple. A funky glass coffee table was in the center of the rug.
    â€œI would love this look for my house,” Chelsey said.
    â€œIt’s okay. I like classic stuff that never goes out of style.”
    â€œI mean if I were rich.”
    â€œIf you were rich you’d blow $3,000 on a couch?”
    â€œYeah, wouldn’t you?”
    â€œNah. Do you know how under-funded schools on reservations are?”
    â€œNo. I thought the casinos were taking care of that stuff.”
    He let out a laugh. “Yeah, casinos—the solution to all our problems.”
    â€œThey’re not?”
    â€œOnly a few casinos make any money. And yeah, those reservations are doing great now. Employment rates are up, all that good stuff. But most reservations are way off in the boonies and aren’t easy to get to.