Look How You Turned Out by Diane Munier Read Free Book Online Page B

He's laughing again, looks at me and I'm just standing there.
    I'm not laughing. It's just not funny. So he quits laughing and hands me the bouquet. "I don't know what the heck you want."

Chapter 19
     
    "I'd like you to chop those and we'll bag them," I say meaning the carrots and celery.
    He's doing that deep look again. "So stubborn," he whispers, turning to the sink where he commences washing the vegetables.
    I have to get away from him for a minute. Just a minute, and not too far. But I need a break. In the hall, I lean on the wall and put my hand over my hammering heart. She asked for a ring this Christmas. That's all I can think.
    "What are you doing?"
    It's Marcus. He's caught me standing there.
    I'm holding my heart together, what does he think?
    "Just…being interesting." I use my ass to push off the wall and stand there a second. Then I go in search of Juney. That one is in the living room, feet over the back of the couch, head hanging all the way to the floor, game controller in hand as he works his way through video world. The ring is still around his mouth. "Hey, you better wash your face like your dad said."
    "I will," he answers without taking his eyes off the screen. When I don't move off, he pauses and does a backward somersault to the floor and grins at me. He gets on his skinny legs and barrels off, for the bathroom.
    I return to the kitchen, hearing the knife on the board before I even enter the room.
    Now there is a domestic scene to die for. Marcus at the island, towel over his shoulder working the knife. Oh, the holidays.
    He's got this look for me, cop duty or something, hyper aware of me. I smile, but I'm not entirely comfortable with it. I mean, I want his attention but not his worry.
    I grab the bag of onions and sit on the stool Artie keeps there for when he cooks. I am around the island's corner on Marcus's right. I grab a knife and slit the net bag and pick my first victim.
    "What was it like in Chicago?" he says. Chop, chop.
    "Cold. It was getting cold when I left. Twenty-two." Chop.
    I know he could learn as much off the weather channel.
    "Oh yeah? Would that be unseasonable cold or the norm," he says. His sarcasm sounds just like his regular conversation so it's hard to tell.
    "I had this apartment…in a building that people probably tried to get out of as they moved up the ladder…like in the sixties or something. But now it's been refurbished."
    "I've seen pictures," he said.
    "Facebook?"
    "Artie. And maybe some Facebook…from Artie."
    "Yeah, it was tiny, like living in a model of what an apartment might be if it was…bigger."
    He laughed.
    "And it was…I felt kind of cool, you know? I had a twin bed, and there's this big store called Ikea, and everything is cheap…but cool. You have to put it together, though. But I got pretty good at it."
    "Yeah, Artie said that."
    "Yeah." I stop chopping and move off to get us each a soda. I don't have to ask him what he wants…Diet Dr. Pepper.
    Yawn.
    When I straighten, he does too, and he's chopping with more dedication. I set his soda in front of where he works and pop mine, take a long sip and get back to work. "I loved the view from my office. Twelve stories. I could see Lake Michigan."
    "Yeah."
    "Sure you want to hear all this…again?"
    "Go on."
    "Well, coffee shops right there, and neat little bistros with cool things like peppers stuffed with goat cheese and sushi. I don't know. It was great."
    He stops the chop. He's peeling onions now. "Why are you here?" He has over-pronounced each word.
    I over-pronounce, "I want to be here. It's Thanksgiving. I am always here for Thanksgiving."
    He smirks knowing I mock him. "You know what I mean."
    I do. I purse my lips and move them side to side a few times. He's like, hypnotized. Or disgusted.
    "I got let go from my job. So I came home…wagging my tail behind me."
    "You told me that. But where is all your stuff? In your car?"
    "Yes. All that's left. The rest was carried off by a neighbor." I