Rock Bottom Girl(85)

I dragged my sweats on and noticed, possibly for the first time, the giant mound of laundry in the corner on the floor. Maybe it was time I did a little growing up elsewhere, too.

I found a laundry basket in the closet and filled it to the brim. Whatever didn’t fit I threw back into the closet and closed the door. I’d deal with that later.

I found Marley and Homer deep in conversation in the kitchen. There were grocery bags on the counter, and Homer was eyeing a new bag of dog treats every time he surfaced from wolfing down his breakfast.

“Good morning,” Marley said, beaming at me from across the island.

Well, shit. So that’s how it felt. Knowing you wanted to do something every day for the rest of your life. That’s what I wanted right now. And it was incredibly inconvenient seeing as how the object of my affection had just reiterated her desire to blow this popsicle stand once her obligations here were finished.

“Morning,” I said, dropping the laundry basket on the kitchen table and swooping in for a long, hard kiss. She wanted to leave? Fine. But I wasn’t going to make it easy on her. “What are you doing up so early?”

She laughed and pointed at the clock with a spatula. “It’s 9:30.”

“On a Sunday,” I pointed out. “For teachers, the weekends are little slivers of reprieve.”

“Homer woke me with his cold nose and a very insistent demand to go outside,” she said, returning to the pan on the stove.

My dog was an asshole. But a cute one.

“Usually I can get a couple more hours of sleep after his demands are met,” I told her.

“Well, since I was up and you didn’t have anything edible in the house, Homie and I took a quick ride over to the grocery store, and I got some necessities.”

I felt…cared for. Spoiled. Cherished.

“Really?” I asked, clearing the emotion out of my voice.

“Yeah. Cheesy omelets are almost done. Wanna pour the coffee and get the bacon? I put it in the microwave so it wouldn’t get cold.”

She made me breakfast. Bought me groceries. Took my dog for a car ride. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I was truly fucking sunk.

And Homer was basically laughing at me with his doggy smirk.

“Sure. Awesome. Yeah,” I said, digging out a pair of mugs and trying not to think how domestic this all was. Forget haunting. Gram had taken control of my mind. I needed an exorcism.

“It’s kind of warm outside and not as unclean as in here. Want to eat on the porch?” Marley asked.

I followed her through the back door, juggling plates and mugs and utensils that she must have washed herself since I’d been using plasticware for weeks now.

We sank onto the wicker couch and dumped our breakfasts on the little coffee table. Fall was in the air, but summer was pushing back, clinging to the late September Sunday. It would be a good day for a leisurely run.

“Think you could go for a few miles today?” I asked Marley.

She forked up a bite of omelet. “Sure. It’ll have to be this afternoon though. Uh, were you serious about meeting my parents?”

“Yeah. Definitely,” I told her. I shoveled a bite of cheesy eggs into my face. “Whoa. What magic did you work here?”

She smiled prettily. “It’s all in cage-free eggs and good cheese,” she confessed. “Anyway, you’re invited to dinner tonight. At my parents’.”

I chewed thoughtfully. Sipped my coffee. “Cool. What kind of hostess gift should I bring?”

“You’re really into this gift thing, aren’t you?” Marley teased.

“I am. Stick around, and you’ll be showered in thoughtful trinkets.”

She grinned, and I decided this was my favorite Sunday morning in recent history. “Why?” she asked.

“Why what?”

“Why do you like giving gifts?”

I bit into a crisp piece of bacon. “Dunno. I like finding something that I know someone will love. You know, put thought into it. Show them I care. I guess.”

“What’s the last gift you bought?”

“Mmm. I got this painting for my mom. A custom job of her dog. Got it framed and everything. Her birthday’s coming up. She’s coming out from Jersey for a weekend. We’re doing up a dinner party at my uncles’.”

“Do you and your mom have a good relationship?” she asked.

By going to school with me, Marley would have a general knowledge of my messy teenage years. My dad dying. My mom not being able to handle a rebel without a clue. Being shipped off to bumfuck Pennsylvania to live with my uncles I didn’t know well. It had been the best thing she ever could have done for me. But it had taken me some time to come to that conclusion.

“Yeah. We’re good now. Things were rocky back when I first moved here. But honestly? I can’t imagine not growing up with Max and Lewis. Those guys took none of my teenage shit and made sure I turned out to be someone they could be proud of.”

“I like how you talk about them. Like you can just tell how much you love them,” Marley observed.

“Come to the birthday thing,” I said. “Meet my mom. Meet Lewis. My cousin’ll be there.”

“I liked Adeline,” she admitted. “And her husband.”

“Max and Lewis decided they did such a good job with me that they’d adopt. They ended up with Adeline. Now we’ve got a full house for the holidays with her four kids.”