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‘Because it was private.’ She widens her eyes and shakes her head on the last word, like I’m the one being nonsensical.
And maybe I am. Having been woken up by a flesh-toned gremlin pouncing on my balls, and Mary explaining that she didn’t know how to turn on the TV, I left Alice to sleep in and came downstairs. I’d quickly dressed in some workout clothes before coming down but instead of continuing to the basement, I sat next to her. Even tolerating the aforementioned ball-pouncer lounging on the back of the couch between us.
Usually when I wake, I’m full of restless energy I need to burn off in the gym. This morning I felt… peaceful.
Well, discounting the demon cat’s wake-up call.
The evil stepsisters try their best to fit their large feet into the tiny glass slipper while the sniveling duke looks on. ‘The prince didn’t even search for her himself. He sent the duke.’
‘He was busy.’ Mary’s arms cross, and I wonder if she’s reached the end of her patience with me.
Unable to resist, I ask, ‘With what?’
‘Prince stuff.’
‘Hmmm.’ It’s like arguing with my brother.
The television dims as Gus-Gus reaches the dark attic floor and I can see my reflection in the screen. I’m smiling.
A shadow moves on the left of the screen.
‘What are you two doing?’ Alice, still clad in my T-shirt but having added her worn leggings and a pair of my workout socks, pads into the room. Her expression hesitant.
Lately, her hair has had a more polished look to it, whether from the bangs growing out or perhaps some hair product my mother foisted on her, but not this morning.
Her hair is wild with the shorter pieces sticking out at random angles on the left, while the right is more matted from her pillow.
I’m oddly pleased, like her hair is evidence of my prowess. I’m also extremely turned on.
Not the time.
Mary gives me a vengeful smile before pouting to Alice. ‘Thomas thinks Prince Charming is an idiot.’
Alice’s eyes widen and I’m shocked out of my untimely and immature thoughts.
‘I never said the word idiot.’ I aim a glare at Mary that makes grown men sweat.
She flashes me an unaffected, chicklet-toothed grin.
Alice rolls her lips, as if trying not to laugh.
Ignoring their irritating and easily read expressions, I cross my arms and glare at the evil stepmother who just instigated the shattering of a glass slipper. ‘I just don’t think that there was adequate time for Prince Charming and Cinderella to get to know each other.’
Mary lets out an exasperated sigh and pats my arm. ‘It’s true love, silly.’
Alice starts coughing and I raise one eyebrow in her direction.
At least she attempts to clear the amusement off her face. ‘How ’bout I go make breakfast?’
Glancing down at my stomach, where the lasagne still resides, I stand. When the sudden weight shift causes the cat to slide from its perch in a dramatic combination of flails and hissing, I consider it a happy accident.
* * *
‘Breakfast.’ I place a glass in front of each of them, feeling as if I accomplished something even if I didn’t get to work out this morning.
Alice and Mary exchange looks with each other.
‘It’s good for you.’
