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I grinned at her. “Busted.”
“I got your favorite,” she pointed out.
I sighed and reached into the box.
Donuts were why I worked out so hard.
I loved them, and they loved me—especially my love handles.
Not that I had love handles, but if I ate too many, and didn’t work out, I did.
In fact, just five years ago, shortly after my mother and I won the lottery—I say my mother and I because she’d purchased the ticket for me—I’d gotten a little bit…fat.
After realizing the error in my ways a few months into my sloth-like state, I’d changed my way of life and chosen to better myself by going to CrossFit.
Becoming healthy again had saved my life, because a few months ago, my heart started acting up again.
Something that had been a thorn in my side when I had contracted myocarditis from a viral infection around age nine. There were quite a few hospitalizations, procedures and medications until I finally recovered. Then at age seventeen I had a heart attack.
“Make sure you save some of those for me, piggy,” Mom teased as she moved around the desk toward the box I’d commandeered and then managed to eat six donuts out of. “Or I’m going to stop bringing them.”
I snorted and pushed the box toward her, thinking that six donuts was more than enough, and then said, “Why are you so nice to Mavis?”
My mother took the seat next to me and stared at me for so long that I thought she wasn’t going to answer.
Then she rolled her eyes. “Why do you hold grudges for so long?”
“I don’t,” I denied.
She scoffed. “You do. But that’s me coming out in you. Or, more accurately, that’s my mother coming out in you. Man, could she hold a mean grudge!”
I waited for her to continue.
When she did, I wasn’t surprised that she was super sweet about explaining.
My mother really couldn’t be mean, even if she tried.
“I don’t think that you see Mavis clearly,” she admitted. “I know that you said Mavis invited you to ‘y’all’s favorite spot.’ However, you knew better than to traipse around the property, and you know you did. I’d told you more than once not to do it, because you knew how that bitter shrew hated seeing kids—even her own grandchildren—out on her lawn. But you did it anyway. So, I know this is going to really hurt to hear, but if you want to blame anyone, you should blame yourself. You were the older child. You should’ve damn well known better, because I told you to. And you were twelve to her nine. So…”
So she did have a point.
I sighed.
“It was bad,” I told her. “I know that I shouldn’t blame her but…”
“But you had to live in a car for two years, lie to your peers, dig in trash cans for food, and ultimately degrade yourself just so you could survive.” She paused. “I know that you did, baby. And I hate that I couldn’t give you what every kid should have. But we turned out okay, don’t you think?”
“I think that you’re trying to make me forget the awfulness by realizing that we ended up pretty good in the end,” I rolled my eyes and stood up to walk to the vintage Dr. Pepper machine that was in the corner. “Do you think we could get this thing to work again?”
My mother, sensing the need for a change of subject, sighed. “You’re being very weird today. Does that maybe have something to do with the beautiful Mavis being here?”
Instead of answering her, I jogged up the stairs to use the restroom, and found it cleaned.
I wasn’t sure, but I was fairly sure I’d left clothes on the floor.
Now they were in the hamper in the corner of the room and separated at that.
The towels in one hamper and the greasy clothes in another.
There was also a Post-It note on the mirror that had me grinning.
That grin slid off my face when I read what the note said: You’re a damn slob. Thanks for the shower. I still dislike you. M.
M.
Well, M, I still dislike you, too.
Rolling my eyes, I went back to work.
And I tell you what, I didn’t think about her once for the rest of the day.
Also, I was a damn liar.
CHAPTER 4
If Cinderella’s shoe fits perfectly, why the fuck did it fall off?
-Questions about life
MURPHY
One month later
I wasn’t sure why the hell I was at my second class of the day.
Usually, I only went to one because I just didn’t have the time in the day to spare.
But today’s workout was easy, it was a thirty-minute jog or row.
This morning I’d run.
Tonight, I was going to row.
At least, that was as long as a certain blonde pixie rowed.
If she didn’t, I’d be running.
Because I couldn’t stop fucking thinking about her.
