It's fine. Everything's fine.

by Michelle Gross

I was born for bad luck. The day the hospital allowed my mom to name me Eugene, my fate was sealed. Who would name their daughter Eugene?

It’s fine. Everything’s fine.

“She’s clumsy, awkward—a complete nerd, actually. She spends her free time reading on her tablet. That’s what I meant. She’s a mess, but I promise she’s not trouble.”

Love was better in books. I could turn on my Kindle and read whatever type of man I wanted at the time.

“Red. And Eugene is nice. Even if you’re the only woman on the planet named that, which I doubt, that means it’s not just a boy’s name. It’s your name. So, if you don’t want me calling you by your name, I’ll call you Red.”

“We both know you weren’t offering me a job. You were trying to give me your grandson.”

All I saw was her.

“What? You don’t want to spend your money, so spend mine.”

“It’s your home, too.”

“She sees a different guy nearly every night.” At least, that was my presumption. Each night, she sat by the fireplace with her Kindle. I made sure a fire was lit to encourage her to come downstairs so I could watch her. The woman was so animated whenever she read from that device.

She was the color filling in my gray.

Raising my head, I stared down at her. “You know what you look like?” “What?” “Mine.”

“You’ve never felt like a stranger. I kept telling myself you and your red hair weren’t my type, but the truth is the opposite. You’re everything. It’s like life slid into place, making sense and becoming perfect because you were there. Do you understand? You’re my home.”