Молли Харпер - And One Last Thing...

“I knew that was you, you little bastard,” Monroe griped.

“I don’t know whose children they are,” Janice told me. “They’re the product of terrible parenting, obviously. They just showed up on our doorstep one day and we took them in.”

By this time I was leaned against the counter, laughing so hard I had a stitch in my side.

We finally got breakfast on the table, after Janice insisted her sons and husband “get off their chauvinistic asses and help.” I suddenly understood where Monroe got his unique grasp of the English language. There was quite a bit of plate shuffling, tossing of cinnamon rolls across the table, and fights over the “good” strips of bacon, but eventually everyone was leaning back in their chairs and moaning about eating too much.

“So what exactly do you do when your family comes to visit?” I asked Monroe quietly as his brothers loudly argued over the last cinnamon roll.

“Well, my dad comes up with a big itinerary for the day. Hiking, renting a pontoon boat, visiting that apple orchard off County Line Road. He usually ends up falling asleep right after breakfast and napping through lunch. My brothers watch basketball games. I spend most of the day fighting Mom off of my laundry hamper. We play a couple of board games while my dad snores. Mom makes a big dinner, we eat, and they all go back to their motel room, leaving me to appreciate the silence of my little home.”

“Wow,” I marveled. “Still sounds like more fun than Christmas with the Terwilligers.”

He snickered and tugged gently on my hair. I looked up and found that Matt was staring at me.

“Do I have jelly on my face?” I asked.

“No, it’s just you look really familiar. Where do I know you from?” Matt asked.

“I just have one of those faces,” I said, shooting a covert glance at Monroe.

“No, I saw you somewhere, like on TV or something. Were you on one of those reality dating shows?”

I tried to play it off with a laugh, while the blood drained out of my face. “Yes, I must confess, I was that girl who threw up while making out with Bret Michaels on Rock of Love.”

“No, that girl was a redhead,” Andy said. “But now that you mention it, Lacey does look familiar.”

“Drop it, guys,” Monroe warned.

“Oh, my God, you’re that crazy e-mail chick!” Andy exclaimed.

I froze, with an expression akin to Bambi caught in headlights.

“Andrew, the family policy is that we don’t call people crazy until we’ve known them at least twenty-four hours,” Janice said sternly.

“What is he talking about?” Frank asked.

“Nothing,” Monroe growled, shooting his brothers a face-melting death glare. “They have Lacey mixed up with someone else.”

“No, crazy e-mail chick’s name was Lacey, too. I remember now,” Matt said. “You know, the nurses at my office printed that out and taped it to the refrigerator in the break room? You’re like a role model to them. I can’t wait to tell them I met you. I will admit that while the actual letter scared the crap out of me and my Y chromosome, I thought it was pretty awesome that you nailed your husband like that. He sounded like a scumbag.”

“What are you talking about?” Janice demanded.

When Monroe opened his mouth to protest again, I put my hand on his arm. “It’s not like they can’t go home and google me,” I said. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. “A few months back, I found out my husband was cheating on me -”

“And she sent everybody he knew an e-mail busting him out as a ‘spineless, dickless wonder’!” Matt exclaimed. “It was hilarious!”

“Actually, it was ‘spineless, shiftless, useless, dickless wonder,” I mumbled, unable to look up at the elder Monroes’ faces.

Andy picked up my hand and pressed it to his chest. “You made me laugh until coffee came out of my nose; therefore, I pledge my undying loyalty to you. In fact, if you and Franny break up, I’d be glad to be your shoulder to cry on -”

Monroe cuffed Andy on the back of the head. “Keep your shoulders, and all your other parts, away from my girlfriend.”

At the use of the word “girlfriend,” I stiffened, particularly given Andy’s big announcement. Monroe’s parents probably weren’t going to be thrilled that his new… “special lady friend” had recently been featured on David Letterman’s Top Ten Women Who Make Your Wife Look Better list.

“I remember reading something about that. Your husband cheated on you?” Monroe’s father asked. “Left you for another woman?”

I nodded, mentally calculating exactly how much time I would allow to pass before succumbing to embarrassment and bolting for the door.

“Well, he’s obviously an idiot,” Frank said dismissively, before sipping his coffee. “Now, I’m going lie down for a minute to rest my eyes, and then we are going to take that scenic trail around Cosgrove Point.”

“Right,” Matt snorted.

“We’ll see you around dinnertime, Dad,” Monroe said.

“Not this time!” Frank said. “This time I’ve set the alarm on my watch.”

“You don’t have an alarm on your watch, honey,” Janice said as Monroe’s dad made himself comfortable on the couch.

“Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit?” Andy said.

“Surprise me,” Matt responded.

“Not Trivial Pursuit, guys. You always end up fighting over obscure Civil War trivia and then my coffee table ends up broken,” Monroe moaned.

“Wait, that’s it?” I asked, as Matt and Andy took their plates to the sink. Janice picked up the dirty cutlery and started loading the dishwater. “That’s the sum total of your parents’ reaction?”

Monroe shrugged. “Yeah. My dad worked in an ER for thirty years before going into family practice. Mom works in a state run psychiatric hospital. Short of bloodshed, not much you can do will shock them. Also, you may have noticed that my family places a lot of value on an effective insult. In fact, your stock has probably just gone up, as far as they’re concerned.”

“Then why did you keep telling your brothers to shut up?”

“I didn’t want them to embarrass you. I know you don’t like talking about the newsletter. I figure today’s been uncomfortable enough for you.”

“This feels like a trick,” I told him. I pursed my lips. “Your mom isn’t going to ambush me in the kitchen and tell me my crazy, damaged ass has no business near her baby boy?”

He shook his head. “She may ask you to do a reading of your newsletter, but other than that, no.”

“I wouldn’t mind reading it if you have a copy,” Janice said as she came back to the table. “Andy only shoots coffee out of his nose for high comedy.”

“Oh, no.” I gave an uncomfortable little laugh. “It’s not that funny. Andy’s just exaggerating.”

I looked up to find Monroe silently mouthing, “It’s on my desk,” and poked his shoulder. “You’re no help at all.”

Janice leveled me with those sharp, hazel eyes. “You know, I see a lot of desperate, damaged women in my work. Women who let the hurts and disappointments push them down until they can’t find the will to go on living, much less stand up for themselves. As a psychiatrist, I’m supposed to say that indulging a desire for revenge isn’t healthy, that it would be better to focus on healing and rebuilding your own life. As a woman, I say that well-executed payback is an important ingredient in healing and closure is required before you can rebuild anything. If you managed to do that without slandering or hospitalizing anyone, I say good for you.”

The approval in her tone had me blushing - a pleasant, warm sensation spreading through my chest that suddenly flushed cold. I wasn’t ready for this. I wasn’t ready for family breakfasts and inappropriate stories from Monroe’s adolescence. I didn’t want to have to work to get another mother’s approval, to make sure her expectations were met and her birthday gifts had appropriately sappy cards attached.