“I’m sorry,” he added, taking the ice pack, eyes on the lion. “That you were worried. I should have prepared you more … for this.” Archie placed the ice pack against his forehead and flinched from the cold. It woke him up a little.

“I want to talk,” Rachel said.

Now he’d done it. He looked up at her. She had her other hand on her hip now, too.

They were going to have a conversation, he realized. Archie didn’t know a lot about women, but he had been married and he knew when a conversation was coming, and he knew that when a woman wanted to have one, the best thing you could do was get it over with.

“Right,” he said.

Rachel placed her hand on the gel pack and held it against Archie’s head until he let his own hand fall away. Then she stepped around his knees. He expected her to take a seat next to him on the sofa, but instead she lowered herself onto his lap.

Archie didn’t know how to respond. He kept his hands at his sides, unsure what level of affection he should exhibit in this situation. Rachel was sitting across his thighs, her legs stretched out on the sofa, her back resting against the sofa arm, holding the gel back against his skull. He was fully awake now.

“Why haven’t you introduced me to your kids?” Rachel asked.

Archie had hoped she’d start with something easier.

She looked at him, waiting.

Archie chose his words carefully. “I didn’t know you wanted to meet my kids,” he said.

Rachel frowned. She tilted her head slightly. He could feel her shift against his groin. The pill bottle in his pocket pressed into his thigh. He hoped she didn’t think it was an erection.

He cleared his throat, and tried to explain. “I don’t want to confuse them,” he said.

Rachel sat forward, her weight off the pills, and put her free arm around his neck. “How am I confusing?” she asked.

Archie sighed. “How do I introduce you, Rachel? As my downstairs neighbor?”

She glanced at him hesitantly. “You could try girlfriend.”

This was the opposite direction that Archie thought this conversation would go. His discomfort must have been obvious.

“Okay,” Rachel said quickly. “Then tell them I’m your sweetpatootie. Or special friend. Or sex kitten. Whatever. I don’t care. Just introduce me. I don’t want to be a secret.”

“Okay.”

She dabbed the gel pack at his forehead. “Does Debbie know about me?”

“Yes.”

She smiled. “Good.”

Rachel curled happily in his lap. Archie’s body struggled between the need for sex and the need to sleep. She shifted her weight again, positioning herself in a place that made his arms tingle.

“Would someone call me?” Rachel asked. “If you were really hurt or killed. Would anyone know to call me?”