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look just like your picture?”
    “Ooh, a sassy one. I like that,” Jackson purred. He had this. Maybe adjust the innocent act into sultry. “I could say the same thing about yours. That barcode tattoo is definitely a mystery.”
    Jeshebet squealed a note that pierced through Jackson’s eardrum.
    Ennis glanced pointedly from Jackson to the baby.
    Jackson shriveled and then tried to smooth things over with an apologetic smile. He reached around in his messenger bag and pulled out a vinyl baby block for her to chew on. “Shh, shh, Jackson’s talking to his new friend, okay?” he told her as she gnawed on the block.
    “This might seem like an odd question,” Ennis said.
    “I can explain,” Jackson offered timidly.
    “Why is she in a grocery basket?” Ennis asked.
    Jackson relaxed and thanked the Almighty that Ennis didn’t make a big deal of how he failed to mention a kid in his profile. But he still had to come up with something. He chuckled, chagrined. “She loves the thing. Can’t stand her stroller for more than five minutes.”
    He hoped Ennis wouldn’t pick up on his lie about a nonexistent stroller. But Ennis kept watching her, as if inspecting the baby like a bug. This date was going down faster than that time he and Vegas met that screenwriter in Los Angeles more than willing to do whatever it took to win an Oscar. Jackson lifted the menu to his face before Ennis could catch his expression. That screenwriter gave such shit blowjobs.
    “So, you’re new in town?” Jackson asked, trying to turn on the charm. He lowered the menu and found Ennis still watching the baby. He tightened his grip on the laminated cardboard.
    At this rate he’d lose the bet for sure.
    Ennis nodded. He watched Jeshebet as she made a telltale grunt.
    Fuck. Parenting, even temporarily, was a trial by fire. And Jackson knew a thing or two about fire trials. But he was quickly learning parenting was worse than what Dante had imagined.
    “Shit, sorry.” Jackson slipped out of the booth and scooped up Jeshebet’s basket. Her baby block bounced over the floor, squeaking with each impact and landing on Ennis’s foot. “Seems the little miss needs a changing.” God, this was awkward. “Um, if you want to go… I’ll understand.”
    Well, that was one date off the list. Now the available men in town had been rendered nil, and fuck it all if he’d seduce Old Gary. Though he seemed the family-man type. Jackson violently shook his head and slapped his face. No. No way. He couldn’t be that desperate.
    Jackson’s stomach sank. He was Sisyphus after all, doomed to clean out grease traps for all eternity.
    He gagged at the thought.
    “I’ll come with you,” Ennis said, smiling.
    Jackson’s jaw dropped. Wasn’t expecting that .
    “Oh…. Okay,” Jackson said. He looked helplessly toward the restroom. He had seen the inside of Old Gary’s restroom. The Baths of Caracalla were far, far more sanitary.
    Ennis seemed to get the hint. “Outside. This place is useless for babies.” He snorted.
    Was that derision? Did Ennis have kids too? Jackson brightened. He’d have a Christmas date after all.
    “Follow me,” Ennis said, taking Jackson by the elbow. He led him out the door to his car.
    Jackson held his tongue as they stopped at the rusted-out Volkswagen Bug. “That’s your car?” he asked, uncertain.
    “Yeah,” Ennis said without hesitation. “It was the last one on the lot.” He gingerly reached for the basket, and Jackson complied. Ennis lifted Jeshebet and then laid her on the hood of the car. “Oh, you dropped an atom bomb, didn’t you, little miss?” he said as he unfolded her blanket and then worked at her diaper. “Got the baby wipes?”
    Jackson was too busy deciphering the information to realize Ennis had asked him a question. Luckily, the horrific smell rising from Jeshebet’s butt reminded him. “Oh! Baby wipes. Right,” he said, and rifled around in his messenger bag. He handed over the plastic box of