Love Lost, Chapter 17b: Reservations, concluded.
#34 of Love Lost
Love Lost, Chapter 17b: Reservations, concluded.
Alice was happy that her cookie recipe proved to be a hit. Grace felt like she was about to pull a muscle from the strain of faking smiles at slights and resisting an urge to throttle Miss Foley, which piqued when Scarlet found a blue hair in one of her cookies and used it as an excuse to expose her opinion on the matter of pokemon cooking for humans.
That hair belonged to Alice, but Grace claimed responsibility and broke niceties. "It's a good thing that hair was cooked or you might risk catching something. I came in from the wild, too, so you don't even know where I've been. I could be crawling with cooties. Shall I freshen your drink?" Grace reached toward Scarlet's glass. Scarlet reached too, intending to out-pace her. Grace applied telekinesis and smirked when Scarlet caught nothing but the air behind it.
"No need," Scarlet stated firmly. "If you'll excuse me." She stepped away and set her sights on the bathroom.
Grace smiled like a cat that caught a canary. "Gladly!" She brought her hands up to her temples and giggled when her faint, momentary glow faded.
Joe turned in his seat. "Grace, what did you just do to her?"
Grace returned with filled glasses and a disappointed expression. "What do you mean? 'Do to her.' I wouldn't touch a hair on her head. I wouldn't want to, what with hair touching being such a big deal to you humans." Seeking additional punctuation, she suspended her levitating power completely and let gravity put her in her seat. It creaked a little from the impact, and Grace suppressed a wince triggered by its force's equal opposite.
Alice could not resist the remainder of chocolate chips at the bottom of the bag. "Scarlet is right."
"Don't ever say that, Sis. Especially not when we're trying to eat." Grace shoved a third of a cookie into her mouth.
"Working professionally, one wild hair and a call to a poke-phobic health inspector and you've got a problem. I can't let myself be sloppy."
Inside the bathroom, Scarlet sat in despair, staring at a bare peg. There was not even a spent core dangling upon it. She glanced around for emergency reserves but found none. She hung her head, feeling defeated; and justified in her opinion of domestic pokemon and doubly so that of Psychic-types. She felt a strange cool breeze run up her spine and a sensation of her hair lifting away.
"Nice mop you've got, girlfriend."
Scarlet looked up and saw a ghost looking down. "How many does he have?"
"Mops?"
"Pokemon. He said he had two, but they come out of the woodwork around here."
Marianne floated around and hovered against the rim of the bathtub. "Surprise. What's your deal, got a quota? Two's your limit so now you have to start throwing us back?"
"Zero is my limit, Misdreavus."
"Marianne."
Scarlet lowered her eyelids and turned to a mocking tone. "Pleased to meet you, Mary-Augh--"
The ghost gagged Scarlet's mouth with a wad of tendril. "Say it right. Mah-rhee-ahnn. If you ever call me 'Mary-Ann,' I will rip your hair out through the roots and make it my wig for dressy occasions."
The tendril dispelled when Scarlet reached to pull it away. "You've got to be kidding. You couldn't possibly--."
Marianne drifted through the wall. She returned a few seconds later, pulling the front half of a purple-tinted blaziken into the bathroom with her. Scarlet reflexively twisted a little upon her throne.
"Chicken, if I tell her I'll do something mean to her, I mean it, right?"
Burner looked into Scarlet's eyes. "The ghost means it."
Marianne dismissively shoved him back through the wall and television in Joe's bedroom. "Now, I smelled some delicious anxiety in here, but you're being both snotty and boring. What gives?"
Scarlet blushed and gestured. "I've got a couple problems here."
Marianne glanced around. "Let me check things out." She floated about in a few chaotic directions and faded away.
Joe watched as Alice dragged Burner from his game and into his room. She claimed that she wanted to warm-up before work, but really she just wanted to spend some time alone with her beau. At least as alone as would be possible and tactful with a missing door and company paying a call. Joe turned to Grace who was eating a berry as much to keep her from tearing through the rest of the cookies as it was to provide balanced nutrition for her still-regenerating flesh. "She's been in there for quite a while."
Grace took Joe's right hand with her own left. "Makes it nice and quiet, just you and me." Grace turned his face with her right arm and ventured to kiss him, but they were interrupted.
James walked into the living room and called out, "Why did I just find two and a half toilet rolls in my closet?" carrying the suspicious objects like a small pyramid.
Grace's gills turned red as she blushed in response to Joe scolding her with her own name. Heads turned as the bathroom door opened and a combination of wild red hair and wild violet tentacles exited with somewhat stifled laughter. Scarlet's composure returned in a flash as she approached Joe, ignoring Grace as though she were not there. "I'm gonna get going. You know what's left to do for your half, we'll compare notes at lunch on Monday, 'kay?" Scarlet went inside Joe's bedroom, gathered her things, and departed, bidding goodbye to Joe coolly and to Marianne warmly, pronouncing her name properly.
When the front door closed, Marianne turned to face and approach those present. "I like that girl."
Grace faced Marianne, leaning forward with her palms on the kitchen counter-top. "I hate that girl."
Marianne drifted toward and against Joe. "You should marry her."
Everyone felt Grace's reaction. "What!"
"What's to 'what?' She's bright, has a good attitude, and is great at sizing up people."
Grace leaned further forward as though the counter were her only restraint. "What makes you think that?"
The ghost spoke through an irrepressible laugh, "She hates you and Alice."
Grace narrowed her eyes and floated away. "She hates all pokemon."
Marianne drifted alongside Joe as Grace set about finishing the kitchen's clean-up. "Denial: not just a river in Egypt."
Joe turned toward her. "Where?"
Marianne's eyes flashed. "Oh, it's a desert resort. Kinda like the one in Isshu, but with less legendary dragon and more baba-ghanoush."
Joe shrugged and retired to his room.
James beckoned the ghost. "I'm supposed to be on a schedule."
"Yeah, yeah; I'll leave two for you tonight to make up for it. Might as well use them up since you need to switch tracks." Much to his relief, Marianne turned away from James before shouting, "SQUATTER!" and drifting into Burner's room, meeting Alice's curious stare. "Quit stroking that hot red cock of yours; he's going to give me a hand with something."
Alice unhanded it with a sigh and checked the clock on her telephone. "It's about time I leave for work, anyway." Burner stole a quick kiss from Alice before she could leave, eliciting a melodramatic "Ewww!" from Marianne, who flopped her tongue out and gestured with a tendril as though she had intent to purge.
Inside the garage, Marianne directed Burner's attention to the attic hatch. "It's stuck. Open it, Muscles."
"Can I ask why?" Burner muttered as he gripped the hatch's handle. It did not budge.
"You guys bought me that ghost bed thing with Ivana's apology money; don't you want me to try it at least?"
Burner tugged again. Something sounded like it splintered. "Yes. Can't you carry it up yourself?"
"It's made of silver. I can't phase it through, or through it except for the gaps in the weave. That second part is how it's supposed to work as a bed for a ghost."
Finally, the hatch gave way. A lot of stale dust dropped through the opening. Marianne quickly carried the box containing her gift into the attic, returning only seconds later. "Okay, close her up and pretend this never happened. I'll re-glue it later. And if anyone asks, I sold the thing; probably will anyway. A sturdy clothes hangar after hanging one on has always been good enough for me."
"Glue?" Burner asked.
"How do you think that door got stuck? Listen, that is my domain, now. Besides, there's nothing up there any of you guys need to get at, unless you want to look at a wedding album or some old baby stuff, and I can bring that down without the door being serviceable. You've done your bit, shoo!" Marianne encouraged Burner to return to the living space.
At Mrs. Song's, Alice slipped into her cheongsam and inspected the list of appointments. A large number of members were coming through this afternoon and evening. That was actually good news since she was unwilling to provide many members-only services, so aside from walk-ins she would probably have some gaps in her program to relax. That was not to say that non-members would not try to negotiate a free sample, but they knew that there was a house rule: get fresh with one of the girls, and the other girls get fresh with you. If that was not deterrent enough, Maku was one cry for help away. Maku was Mrs. Song's hariyama. He liked it when someone overstepped their bounds.
Where those bounds were exactly, however, varied between employee and customer. Some were granted more leeway than others. One of the usually forgiven trespassers was Alice's regular. Four-o'-clock, always on the money. He was a member, but never partook of many of its privileges; just a select few.
"Good afternoon, John," Alice grumbled with her ears bent to a middling angle as she entered the room.
He was already all but nude and on her table. He did not respond until she approached, whereupon he took up her left paw and kissed it; fearlessly, as its spike tip and his eye became quite near to each other in doing so. "Beautiful Lucario, won't you reconsider?" "John," according to his alias, raised himself up and put an arm around Alice, pulled her in, rested his face on her shoulder, and kissed her neck softly while taking a deep breath through her fur.
"Never. Down, boy. Let's get this over with."
"Yes, my queen," he whispered, and returned to his prone position.
Throughout his massages, "John" babbled about problems at work. Mostly, trivial matters over office trifles, like possession of favorite staplers and use of card-game software over the network. Although her demeanor usually showed irritation during their sessions, Alice's ears stood straight upward when "John" let slip information allowing her to deduce where exactly he worked.
"John, why do you call me your queen?"
"Because if you would be mine, I would humble myself before you."
Alice bit her lip. "If you could arrange something in secret I would be willing to let you show me what that would be like--"
He almost leapt from the table. With a barely-forceful force-palm, she pinned him back down against it.
"Just this once."
After a brief discussion, they came to terms.
A ludicolo opened the door, but Percival was addressed by an absol. "State your business here," she grumbled.
Percival was taken aback by her tone. "Is this Iwamoto's place? I've got a question for him."
"A dubious gift, since you'll expect an answer in return." The absol turned away and trotted inside. "You may wait here until Sensei completes his meditations, or you may go home. Remove your shoes beside the door if you enter."
Looking around the living room, which clearly did not see much use, Percival inspected a number of framed images. Many were old photographs of League champions, shots of dynamic battles, and group photos of gym leaders at conferences. One that caught his eye was a very old photo of a rather young Iwamoto holding a small articuno. Two cyan feathers were tucked behind its frame, one quite small and one much larger. Both had collected a fair amount of dust.
Finding it to be the only place to sit, Percival parked himself on a small pillow near a short table and drummed his fingers against its surface. He poked at a bowl but it contained only berries and nuts. He stared at a painting on the wall. It seemed very abstract. Even the signature was a mess, although it might begin with the letter "C." Almost overpowered by a growing urge to give up, Percival was relieved to see a xatu slide open a fragile door and pass through with Iwamoto following behind him.
Crying-Tree stood in a corner while Iwamoto received two glasses of fresh tea from Pablo, one of which he gave to his guest while he too sat at his kotatsu.
"Harmony tells me that you have come with a question troubling you."
"I do. I have. Whatever, look, I want to know about the Pentachord Badge. A kid on the block I live on just got it--"
"I know; I was the League referee for that contest. What is your question?"
"How the heck is Joe Rainier winning gym challenges against leaders who don't exist without even trying?"
Crying-Tree broke his stolid demeanor and chirped a giggle. Iwamoto barely contained a similar reaction. "He has a powerful pokemon with whom he has forged a powerful bond of mutual respect, concern, and love. Those two factors go a long way, but as a trainer yourself, you surely have come to understand that fact from both study and experience. Asking me that is a waste of your question."
Percival shifted. "Yeah, sure. Okay, how about this one: they had a fight in his house a little while back with an articuno. There aren't a lot of them around here, but there's a photo of you holding a little one on that wall, and a couple feathers that are the right color. What do you have to do with all this?"
"Almost nothing. The articuno in that photograph is the one who visited your neighbor, and I do have a relationship with her: I trained her as my own for a short time when her owner was occupied with pressing matters. However, she is not my responsibility and I am afraid that her master has spoiled her rotten in many ways. Does knowing this solve your problem?"
"What problem?"
"The problem that motivated you to bicycle across town and bother an old man with many pointless questions instead of one meaningful one."
Percival almost retorted but felt a presence speaking in his mind. It demanded that he drink his tea. Percival glanced toward Crying-Tree, who was staring at him with his right eye, fully dilated such that it seemed like nothing but a black field on white.
When Percival finished, Sensei spoke. "Please, try to ask only once more, then leave me in tranquility."
Percival pondered. Who was D.W.? Did that matter? Would he want to challenge the mysterious leader too? Could he defeat him? Was some obscure badge that nobody even remembered worth having? He beat Joe, on a technicality sure, but nonetheless; considering how long this gym "leader" was out of the circuit and that Joe beat him, he might have been a push-over. Heck, the badge might not even count toward eight if the League decided that D.W. was no longer credible. What if he challenged and lost? Would that not be an embarrassment? At least Joe had a badge to prove that Burner was a force to reckon with; Percival had earned nothing at all except small purses and a spot on the League news blotter.
"Mister Iwamoto, I want to know: How can I become a better trainer?"
Sensei sipped from his tea cup. "Did you bring your friends with you?"
"I go to fulfill your orders, my queen," said "John" in a humble tone.
"Be gone, and speak no word of this to anyone, or We will see you dressed in irons, rotting within the dungeon hold."
"John" bowed, straightened his clothing, and exited with haste.
Alice made a sound she never before knew she could make. It was a gurgle, a shudder, and a retch somehow fused into one noisy spasm. She went to the break room to change. Mrs. Song entered shortly thereafter.
"Well, Blue Dog, I see you make liar of yourself. No surprise. Give a girl enough time, she will provide member services. Always happens."
Alice struggled slightly with a button. Her paw-like hands were not quite handy enough sometimes. "We didn't actually do anything."
"He take extra time, he pay for extra time. Pay premium rate like you did something. Big tip in jar, too."
"Okay, so I gave him what he wanted and got what I wanted. It was a one-off, and it's over, thanks be Above."
"You think that. Neh, no surprise. Always happens. Fat man called, wants you to go take care of him. Good oils."
Alice whined under her breath. She was hoping to ask for the rest of the night off. Returning to the Rainiers' and taking a four hour shower was feeling like a good idea right about then. And, thanks to her little role-play session with Knave John, thinking about soliciting The King to help her get lathered-up would be as redundant as it was enticing. Her sixth sense sparked a reminder, and snapped her back to reality. She gathered the good oils and set off to the wealthier side of town.
Joe loaded up on junk food while Grace browsed a cinema kiosk. She felt a need to pick something really romantic, yet nothing in the category seemed right. A thought crossed her mind; too many of the female leads were attractive humans--not a surprise of course. There was one film in particular that she sought, but she could not place it. "You'll know it when you see it," she told herself while images of the films' respective posters or media packaging flipped by so quickly it almost made a film of its own. Fortunately there was no queue forming behind her, yet. When Joe approached her with a few sacks in-hand, a couple people were beginning to hover, although it was unclear to Joe if they were admiring the rare sight of a shiny pokemon or just waiting to use the kiosk. "If you can't decide, I'll have to take your turn for you. You know what that means."
Grace flicked back to the new releases and selected the first film that looked like something none of the boys would choose. She hoped that luck would favor the panicked.
Joe laughed and let his trainer's device and the kiosk communicate to pay out of his account. "That made the decision easy."
Grace removed a loaded media chip and followed Joe out. "Not really. I couldn't find the one I wanted."
"Was it something new? Maybe it's not being rented yet."
Grace put her palms on Joe's shoulders and floated along behind him. "No, it was something I wanted to see again with you."
"Again? Describe it, maybe I'll remember which it was."
"I can't really remember; but I'm sure you haven't seen it."
Joe stopped and turned as she drifted to his side and touched ground again. "If I didn't see it, was it a movie we rented but I skipped out on?"
"No. It was a long time ago."
"Then, was it something on T.V.? Or, it couldn't have been before we met, could it?"
Grace put an arm around Joe and they began walking forward together. "No, no. I didn't know what a movie or a T.V. was before we met."
"Then; where, when did you watch it?"
Grace said nothing until they reached the next intersection. The light changed against them as they approached. "I don't know. Maybe I'm imagining things." Grace wrapped Joe with her arms and concentrated, teleporting them across the intersection. Joe walked free but she remained near to his side. After passing a few properties, Grace rubbed her forehead for a moment. "Today was so annoying. Promise me you won't have that nasty girl inside our house again; I think her emotional wavelengths gave me this headache."
"I'll promise to do what I can, but the teacher likes keeping the groups the same, so as long as he keeps throwing projects at us..."
Grace groaned during the gap in Joe's side of their discourse.
"...I guess I could go to her house--"
"No!" Grace shouted as she reached out and took one of his hands. "She comes here. I'll take another headache to keep an eye on her."
"Are you afraid she's going to do something to me?"
"Maybe I am. After what Ivana did, I don't want any girls getting ideas about the guys I love."
"I don't think she's going to go to any of the extremes that Ivana did."
"Well, no. She is only human. But she had better not think that's enough to justify walking inside my house and acting like Burner, Alice, and I are the ones out of place there. And most important of all, I don't want you letting her ideas take root inside your head just because you have to get along with her for classwork."
"Grace, you don't have--" Joe paused as Percival whizzed by on his bicycle, apparently too distracted to voice a greeting, "--to worry about--"
Grace placed her hands on Joe's temples, and in a flash, they covered the remaining distance to his room. The jump was long enough to disorient Grace, but she took that consequence as an excuse to collapse into his arms. "I do have to worry, because I can't be happy if you're not, but your happiness does not guarantee my own. Do you understand what I mean?"
"I think so, Grace, but you could show me."
Grace began to reach to his temples again, but settled for draping her arms over his shoulders and kissing him. "No, that's a sensation that gardevoir should keep to themselves. Just, don't forget what you mean to me."
The Chief was not satisfied. "Now how many times do I have to explain this? You might get to visit him next week, or you might never visit him again."
Alice straightened her cheongsam. "I'm not going to let you manipulate me. When I see my Daddy again is in your hands, yes, and that's one of the reasons why I won't betray myself. You know exactly what I'm willing to do to see him. If that's not enough, then I don't see him and you get nothing."
The Chief squinted and turned red in the face; almost as intensely colored as the amber eyes that he stared into and that stared right back, square and unflinchingly. He spent many years performing interrogations. He knew the look of a man who was not going to back down for anything. "Fine, have it your way."
"Twenty minutes. Full."
He turned redder, "Ten." She had not broken her stare. "Maybe fifteen if you impress me."
"Fifteen, twenty if I impress you."
"Get to work."
Alice turned toward her bag and began sifting around for appropriate accessories.
"For a bitch who wants to claim the moral high-ground, you're sure willing to do a lot of dirty old things with dirty old men."
"Two dirty things, and only with you because Daddy is worth it."
"So, you're thinking of your daddy when you do this?"
A second later, the Chief's face turned red again, as he gasped and groaned in pain.
Alice snarled a little near his ear. "You may hold the key to the visitation room door, but at this precise moment, I'm the one who's got you by the balls. Don't forget that."
The Chief's eyes uncrossed shortly after she let go.
"Besides, I'm industrious. I get to use you to test and improve my technique; good news for my mate."
His voice also needed a moment to recover fully. "Oh yeah? What does he think about your job, and what you're about to do?"
"He thinks I shouldn't be doing this, and I agree with him."
The Chief's voice lost its usual mocking tone. "He's smart."
Alice discarded a wrapper. "He's bright and dim; gentle and savage; courageous and cowardly. Typical Fire-type."
As Alice finally got to work as ordered, the Chief could not help but ask. "Is it true what else they say about Fire-types?"
Alice moved to lean-in close to his face again. "I can't speak for all of them, but it's true for mine. Don't worry, you're adequate for me to practice on."
The Chief huffed.
Alice looked back and waited a moment. "Well, you were."
"Maybe you should marry her," Grace muttered mockingly. This was all Marianne's fault. Grace watched a timer count down as a tray of cookies undulated at 190 degrees centigrade. The front door opened; Mr. Rainier carried his new Mrs. Rainier over the threshold. Scarlet laughed as they entered. Grace hated her laugh. Grace entered the living room as Joe stalled.
The bride's giggles abated for a comment. "No way, don't wuss out on me; you put me down on our bed! Hey Grace, still making hairy cookies?"
Together they went around the wall and toward what once was James' room. The door shut behind them. Grace could still hear her laughing.
Ding.
Grace opened the oven door and levitated the tray onto the counter-top. She fetched a spatula from a drawer and looked into a reflection in its metal blade. "This is all Marianne's fault." The hair above the face in the reflection was green, but that did not seem odd for some reason. What did was the flash of blue that streaked across when she turned it to use it. Grace jumped and turned around. An eerily familiar gardevoir stood close beside her. She raised her hand somewhat defensively.
The other gardevoir spoke. "Are we happy?"
"You're, that... who are you, really, and what are you doing in my mind?"
"Are you not seeing this vision?" The other gardevoir seized Grace by her wrist and pulled her through the house. "You have known Joe Rainier for six years, Scarlet Rainier nee Foley has known him for five." Together they passed through a bedroom door as though it were not there. "He is now consummating his marriage to the latter. Are we happy?"
Grace's eyes grew wide before she covered them and turned away and whimpered, "No... no."
Scarlet began laughing again as Joe exhaustedly collapsed upon her. Grace's eyes watered and she bolted for the door, but reaching for its knob, she passed through again and stumbled.
She stumbled up a slight incline. Tears blurred her vision, but there was not much to see. All was darkness except a dull floor around her illuminated by an array of lights hovering above. She turned around and faced a tall wall with a groove in it. A voice called out from the surrounding darkness, "Come along, this way."
When Grace reached that voice's source, the other gardevoir came into view beneath those ever-following lights. She lay flat on a metal table, her hands behind her head. The pose seemed uncomfortable, since the table made no accommodation for the antenna that protruded from a somewhat fused portion of her spinal column.
"Glad you could make it. You have known Joe Rainier for twenty years--"
"Why are we here?"
"Consequences."
"And, where is here, anyway?"
"Home. At least for a little while longer. Be forgiving, we didn't learn how to do this until it was too late."
The light and all it shined upon became red.
"I'll skip ahead, now."
The array of lights changed back to white. A loud P.A. voice boomed from speakers mounted near those bulbs. "And that ends the match. Tanya Rainier has been eliminated from tonight's competition."
A teenager with her mother's hair and Marianne's vocabulary cursed wildly at her opponent until Grace stood up and walked out of the circle. "Well, that does it." Grace knew that the girl had more to say but refrained.
Grace followed Tanya in silence as the latter left the gym in favor of a pokecenter. There she moved immediately toward a number of computer terminals. Grace watched her as she scanned her trainer's device and quickly surfed through a few menus. She accessed the trading service, and found a number of offers for a shiny female gardevoir. One seemed like just what she needed to get her team into competitive shape. Grace felt a sense of panic when she realized what she was seeing, but Tanya took her by her hands before she could say anything.
"Grace, thank you. You were a wonderful starter, but I want to have a shot at a title, and that means I have to move on. I'm sure your new home will be fine."
"Wait," anguish crawled across Grace's face, "what about Joe, what about my family?"
"Uh, I know you took a hard hit in there, but... okay, Dad gave you to me when I was seven, and if you had a family before that, nobody told me. Are you feeling alright?"
"No, God, no."
"Okay, I'll have them give you a full restoration before the trade so you'll be completely refreshed and clear-headed when you meet your new master."
Grace intended to protest, but Tanya quickly raised a scuffed and scarred dive ball, clicked its button, and filled Grace's vision with bright red light before darkness.
A groan burst from her as Grace felt a sharp pain in the middle of her spine. An array of lights shined down from above. She heard a voice ask once again, "Are we happy?"
Tears again began to flow from the blue gardevoir's eyes. "I'm not."
The lights were eclipsed by a green gardevoir's head as it crept into view above her. "Good. Take that feeling to heart. I don't want to show you what happens next."
Grace rose and wiped her face. "Am I seeing the future? Can I do that, like the pokedex says?"
"You haven't developed that talent. Many of us never do to any useful extent. Don't worry about that; worry about preventing this--what I've foreseen--from happening, for both our sake."
"Okay, but, how?"
"Make different choices."
"How will I know which ones are the different ones? I mean, if you showed me what is going to happen, then--"
"I showed you what was going to happen when you didn't know what was going to happen. You know, now. Do something about it." The other gardevoir came near. "Don't repeat her mistakes."
The other gardevoir walked away and the lights followed her. Then Grace, too, followed, over a railing and up to a tall wall with a groove in it. A pair of doors slid open for the green creature. Beyond them, in a ring-shaped room filled with equipment, Grace saw the other gardevoir grasp a couple of handles mounted from the ceiling. "You know, I would like to try this when you're awake sometime, but he never gives you the opportunity. At least it was a good way to harass Tanya. Will be, maybe, but I hope not." The green gardevoir kicked a control panel. Everything became red. Grace opened her eyes. The color faded except for a number of rounded red forms floating above her. Above them, a pair of glowing red and amber eyes opened. They seemed surprised at first, but quickly shifted to an expression of disappointment.
"So much for the salad bar." Marianne exited through the ceiling.
Joe, a freshman high school student and not a married young man, shifted beside Grace and muttered something indistinct. Grace kissed him gently.
"This is all Marianne's fault."