“Get your keister inside, Devlin,” she said with as much menace as she was capable of, but it wasn’t very much. He smiled. She thought she was so scary.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, dropping the tree trimmer to show how very concerned he was. “Another mean client?”
Marianne stopped a few feet in front of him and cocked her head to the side, tossing her hair off her shoulder. “You remember the day we got together?”
“Yes.”
She nodded. “Remember those condoms Dark Lord Alvin left on my pillow?”
Ah yes, the lime candies. He tried not to smile. “I remember.”
Marianne shook her head back and forth. “You so wish you never threw those away.”
Patrick didn’t feel like smiling anymore.
Marianne nodded and tossed him the grocery bag.
He caught it. There was a little pink box inside with plus and minus signs on it.
“Come on,” she said, marching toward the house. “Let’s do this.”
He watched her go, mouth hanging open. She caught her foot on the last step and cussed. She was so sweet; so small and neurotic and beautiful… what had he done? James and Sophie were going to rip his throat out. As soon as he could get his legs to move, Patrick met her by the bathroom. It was about fifty years later. “Um, so what do you…” His voice was sounding a little girly, so he swallowed and started again. “So do you have to pee on this or something?”
“How the hell should I know?” she said, putting her hands on her hips. “Didn’t you read the instructions? What have you been doing?”
Patrick fumbled the box out of the bag and opened it carefully. Were these things fragile? Should he wear gloves? Ahh, he had to sit down. He crossed the bathroom and sat down on the edge of the tub. “Okay,” he said. He wasn’t sure why he was whispering, but it felt right. “Um, yeah… You can just go right on it, or you can use a cup.” He popped the transparent blue cap off the stick and handed it to her.
She took it, and he started to walk out of the room, but she grabbed his shirt. “I don’t think so, mister. I’m not doing this by myself.” She closed the door and started unbuttoning her jeans. “Besides, you’ve seen it all before right?”
Patrick covered his face with his hands and nodded. He seemed to lose consciousness for a moment and then opened his eyes to see Marianne flushing the toilet and pulling her black panties and jeans back up. Also, he was sitting on the floor. How’d he get there?
Marianne shook her head at him and handed him the stick, the cap back in place. She opened the bathroom door and swung it back and forth like she was trying to give him some air. “You all right?” she asked, giving him a half-smile. “I think I lost you for a minute there.”
Patrick nodded and carefully set the stick on the bathroom tile in front of him. Marianne checked the time on her cell phone and sat down cross-legged across from him. They both stared at the stick, watching the liquid crawl its way across the two little windows. “Why are there two windows?” said Patrick.
“I don’t know,” said Marianne, snatching up the instruction sheet. “Are they for girls or boys?”
“One is a control,” said a voice from the door. “It means the test isn’t defective.”
Patrick slowly lifted his head and saw Marianne’s mother staring down at them. He swallowed. “Sophie…” he said. But that was all he had. What the hell could he say to her?
“Don’t pass out,” said Marianne, patting his knee. “I told her the next day. She knew we might have to do this.”
Patrick still thought he might pass out, but he nodded. He should have expected that; Marianne told everyone everything now.
Marianne seemed to read his thoughts. “You’ve created a monster,” she said, smiling. Then she lifted her eyebrows. “Maybe two.”
Patrick just blinked. He may have just ruined her life, and she was making jokes. Was she having a breakdown? Patrick looked at Sophie for help, but she wasn’t looking at him.
She was looking at the test. “That second line is pink, kids.”
Marianne grabbed her phone. “But the three minutes aren’t up yet,” she said. She looked up at her mom. “Don’t we have to wait the whole time?”
“Pink is pink,” said Sophie, sighing. “Congratulations.”
Patrick sat perfectly still, watching Marianne. His lovely, fragile, little girlfriend who’d just found out that she’d gotten knocked up. She was just sitting there in her bare feet on the floor, inspecting the test. She bit her lip because it was shaking. Patrick thought he might throw up. Marianne looked up at him, her huge brown eyes ready to overflow. She blinked, letting the tears track halfway down her cheeks. She smiled and shrugged one shoulder.
Patrick sat up a little straighter. She was smiling?
“Patrick?” said Sophie.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, not taking his eyes off his girl. She was still smiling.
“You have it with you?” said Sophie. “James told me you carry it around in your wallet.”
Marianne looked up at her mom. “What?”
Patrick nodded at Sophie, and then he laughed. A moment ago, he didn’t think he’d ever laugh again. “I do,” he said. He’d been given strict instructions to wait a year, but he still kept the ring with him. Marianne was a very nosy girlfriend, and none of his drawers or shelves would have been safe.
Sophie stepped out of the bathroom and closed the door behind her.
“Marianne,” said Patrick. “I have to ask you something.”
She was staring down at her lap, looking truly nervous for the first time. “Um…” She looked up. “Is it about a picnic?”
Patrick shook his head. He sat up on one knee and pulled his wallet from his pocket. “Not this time.”
“Oh,” she said, her lip starting to tremble again.
He unfolded his wallet and pulled out a little envelope from a slot in the back.
“Patrick?” said Marianne.
He looked up. She’d gone very pale and was breathing in little spurts and gasps. “Are you okay?” he asked.
“It’s just… could you please hurry up?” she gasped. “Because I really want to say yes and start crying.”
Patrick laughed. “No. You have to hear the speech I prepared.”
“Please,” she whined.
“No.” He pulled the ring out of the envelope and held it out in front of him. “But feel free to cry now if you have to,” he said. “I’ll do my best to ignore you.”
“Okay,” she said. “That’s fine then.”
And she did.
Thank You
Thank you so much for reading Marianne! I really, really hope you liked it and that it made you happy.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on the story, especially about how in love you are with Patrick. Just kidding. Not really, I’m in love with him, too.* If you like, you can send me a message or leave a review on the Marianne Amazon page.
elizabethhammer.com
*Special message to my husband: Patrick is fictional, plus he’s based on you. Calm down.
Marianne Page 39