We crept down the stairs, matching each other's steps. I turned around and stopped him from advancing when he was at that invisible spot right before the landing. I walked over to the table as if it were a normal day. The normal cast of characters were present, except for Dillon, who I assumed was nursing a hangover. Everyone was chattering on about the previous night.
"Mom, can I see you in the kitchen?" I said loudly so Rick would hear me.
"Sure, Marley." She started walking to the kitchen, but paused right before the door. "Marley, aren't you going to ask Rick to join us? It's rude to make him stand on the steps and I know I raised you better than that."
My whole body went rigid. Rick walked down the stairs rubbing the back of his neck, looking at my mother sheepishly. "Good morning, Emmie," he greeted.
"It's actually afternoon, Rick. Please have a seat and I'll get you a plate."
I looked at the table and judging from everyone's shocked expressions, I knew my mom was the only one aware of the male in my bed last night. I followed her into the kitchen.
"How did you know?" We had been extremely quiet and it was late after everyone had gone to sleep.
She took a plate out of the cabinet and turned to me. "Let's just say I was monitoring the situation."
Oh dear God! We never turned off the baby monitor! I recalled all of the scandalous stuff he'd whispered to me while we were in the throes of passion. "Um … Mom."
She held up her hand. "Don't worry, I turned it off as soon as I heard that first grunt that I know didn't come from you. I figured out pretty fast you weren't having a night terror."
I stared at her, not sure how to respond. Rick walked in behind me. "Emmie, don't blame Marley, it was my fault."
My mom shook her head and smiled at Rick, "I don't blame either of you. Marley is an adult and responsible. I just want to ask you one question, are you being safe?"
This was kind of a hypocritical question coming from my mom, but then again, that's probably why she'd asked it. "Yes, we have been very responsible," Rick answered, turning a shade of crimson I'd never seen on him.
"Good, I won't ask any more questions, but please get my permission the next time, and remember to turn off any unnecessary electrical devices."
Rick's crimson colour turned deep scarlet, letting me know he immediately understood how we were caught. I choked back a laugh staring at Rick's blush, remembering all the ways he'd made me blush the last few months.
"Would you like coffee, Rick?" my mom asked him.
"No thanks, I don't drink coffee."
I turned to him with sheer confusion. "Yes you do."
"No, Marley, I don't. I've never liked it."
I wondered if he'd somehow gone crazy in the night. "Rick, I brought you a cup almost every morning until you told me to stop."
He clasped my hand and kissed my wrist. I was grateful my mom was pretending to be busy with whatever was sizzling on the stove. "Marley, I enjoyed seeing you every morning. Sometimes we were so busy it was the only time I got to see you all day, but I didn't drink the coffee."
"I don't understand. The cups were always empty."
He gave me his mischievous, boyish look. It was my favourite expression of his because it bordered on guilt and wickedness. "I threw it in that God awful planter."
I gasped, clapping my hand to my mouth. "That's why that plant died."
"No, baby, I think we killed it together." He was right, between his coffee throwing and my leaf ripping, the poor plant had died by both our hands. My jealousy and his … desire.
"Rick, how about orange juice then?" my mom asked, interrupting our little moment.
"That would be great, Emmie. Thank you."
My mom walked to the fridge. "You guys go ahead and sit. I'll be out in a minute."
I took the orange juice she'd poured and walked out with him. All eyes were on us when we sat down. I suddenly understood why Stevie was so cranky when I made teasing comments about Adam spending the night. It was embarrassing. Rick didn't seem as phased though. He put his arm around my chair and drew figure eights with his fingertips on my arm.
"Bro," Adam said, nodding towards him. Rick nodded back, mimicking the same sentiment. They did some sort of mid-air fist bump thing, like a weird, manly, pat on the back that we girls were not privy to. Adam turned his attention to me, smiling wryly. I knew that look as his, ‘I'm going to totally mess with Marley look'. Adam sat up stretched his neck, cracked his knuckles and looked directly at Rick, "Morning, magic man."
Oh Crap! Stevie had told him. I cut a glare at Stevie who was busy cutting a glare at Adam. Rick gave me an amused, but curious smirk. "Do I have a new nickname, Marley?"
"I have no idea why Adam said that," I replied, crossing my arms.
Rick looked at Adam for an answer, but he just shook his head, "We all have nicknames, Rick. You're in my posse now, so you get one too."
I glared at Adam. "You have a posse? You guys look more like a dance crew. By the way, I don't think anyone's used the term ‘posse' since the mid-eighties."
Adam faked a hurt expression. Rick was amused though. "What's your nickname, Adam?"
Adam grinned. "Pussy lover." We all groaned. "What? It's because I love Van Morrison so much. What the hell were you perverts thinking?" Adam plied his voice with a mock innocence that fooled no one.
"Eww, stop it! My innocent mind can't take this!" Billie screamed.
"It's not that innocent," Stevie muttered.
We all busted out in laughter. It was just a typical morning with my nutty, lovable family.
After the laughter though, I noticed Stevie and Billie gawking at me because I'm sure they wanted to know if I'd had a night terror. My mom came out and regarded me with similar curiosity.
"We slept well," I answered their unspoken question and they all seem relieved. I couldn't exactly come out and say it because Adam had never witnessed a terror and Stevie had never told him. The poor guy thought Stevie was crazy, and wanted to spend eternity living with her mom. A sure sign he truly loved her.
"I don't understand what happened to you all last night? Why did you leave the club?" my mom asked, dishing out what I recognised as her Tofu scramble.
I turned to Billie, wondering what story she'd told my mom. My mom's sudden interrogation led me to conclude that she hadn't completely bought whatever falsehood Billie had sold to her.
"Mom, I told you Marley threw up." Great, she'd used me as the excuse.
My mom regarded me sternly. "Marley, it's pretty irresponsible that you drank that much. It had to be bad if three people needed to help you."
I shifted in my seat awkwardly. My mother's reprimand in front of Rick was very uncomfortable, even if I didn't deserve it.
"When did you throw up, Marley? Was it before or after you punched Mr Clean's nephew?" Adam asked to my horror. Stevie shot him her famous shut the hell up look, but it was too late. The pussy was out of the bag.
My mom stared at me with her sharp blue eyes. "You got into a fight?"
"Don't worry, Emmie. Marley handled the first guy with help from Rick and me. The second guy, Rick took on by himself." Adam's explanation did nothing to calm my mother down. My mom had seen many things in her life. She'd ridden cross-country on a motorcycle, she'd volunteered at a shelter for abused women, she'd smoked weed with Mickey Hart, but the thought of me getting into a fight really freaked her out.
"Marley Reba Mason, you answer me, right now!"
Adam spoke for me, trying to fumble through the story, avoiding Stevie's reproachful glares.
Rick moved closer to me, whispering in my ear, "Reba?"
I looked up at him. "My mom went through a country phase."
His confused look turned into a brimming, dimple-revealing, smile. "Reba, huh?"
"Shut up, Ulysses. You don't have room to talk."
My mom was still gaping at me, so I provided the most comforting response I could. "Mom, its fine. I'm fine. Everyone's fine. We're all safe. We all had a good night, just not the way it was originally planned. Can we just leave it at that?"
"All right, but I want to hear your version later."
I agreed and we moved on to other topics. We all chatted amicably. Billie suddenly interrupted the merriment. "I want to dish."
"We're not eating dessert," I said, staring at Rick's almost empty plate. I couldn't believe this man was eating tofu. Surely, he must really care about me to suffer such fates.
"I don't care, I have dish and I want to share. Mom got a phone number last night. A few actually, but one guy was really hot and young and he had a tongue piercing."
We all stared wide-eyed at my mother. This was good dish.
"Billie, that boy was probably drunk and he was at least half my age."
"I don't know, Emmie, I think a cougar like you could keep a young guy on his toes," Rick interjected, smirking at my mother.