Аманда Хокинг - Flutter

“I don’t see how this TV is any different than the one we had before,” Peter said, echoing my thoughts exactly. “It isn’t even bigger, is it?”

“It’s not about being bigger!” Jack exclaimed and walked away from me, closer to the TV so he could explain all the merits of it. His lingo instantly got technical, which was silly since Peter probably knew less about technology than I did. Ezra and Jack were the ones that were obsessed with all things new and electric.

“It just looks like a television to me,” Peter replied dismally when Jack got done explaining how awesome said television was. Jack scoffed loudly, and this time, even Ezra started to defend his purchase. At that point, they were mostly talking to themselves, and Peter looked back at me. Just briefly, and I looked away almost instantly, but his eyes still caught me. It shouldn’t even be possible for eyes to be that green, and I shouldn’t be thinking about how stunningly attractive they were.

At least he was playing it cool far better than I was. If Jack and Ezra weren’t so damn excited about their new gadget, I’m sure they would’ve noticed how frazzled I was acting. When I looked away from Peter, he went over to them to pretend to be interested in it. Bobby was still sitting in the chair, swinging his feet off the edge, and he looked far more entertained by the bubble wrap than he did the TV. That’s when I realized that Milo was missing, which was strange, because he loved this kind of thing. He should be in here gushing all over this thing like everyone else.

“Where’s Milo?” I asked Bobby, since nobody else would listen to me unless I used the words “HD” or “plasma.”

“Helping Mae with the laundry,” Bobby answered absently and popped another bubble.

I was a little tempted to steal the bubble wrap from him, but I had my chance to escape, so I took it.

Jack wouldn’t be ready to go for at least another ten or fifteen minutes, and I’d rather spend that time waiting somewhere Peter wasn’t. It was going to be impossible for me to not be awkward around him, and it sure didn’t help things that Jack was trying to buddy up to him again. At least Jack was too distracted talking to him to notice me slipping away.

Down the hall, between the den and the main bathroom, there was a laundry room. They had two sets of super powered washers and dryers. They had just bought the second set about the time I moved in. There were seven people living in the house now, and that amounted to a lot of laundry. Mae almost always did all the laundry. I tried to do mine and Jack’s, or at the very least my own, but she somehow always got to it before I did. She was magic that way. The laundry room had several racks with hangers.

Most of Jack’s overflow clothes ended up down here so I took over his closet. His suits were hanging in plastic bags, all neatly pressed and dry cleaned by Mae, and they stayed down here to keep them from getting smooshed and wrinkled in our closet. The room was filled with clean scent of clothes, but I could still smell us on them, especially Jack. No matter how times they were washed, clothes managed to maintain some of their owner’s smell, and I tried to ignore how much his clothes made me miss him.

In one wall were the machines themselves, one set dark blue, and the other a weird orange.

Apparently, the days of ordinary white machines were gone. Milo was sitting on one of the washing machines, watching as Mae pulled out towels of the dryer and folded them. I’m sure he had offered to help, but she would absolutely refuse. She thought it was her duty to do everything for us that she possibly could. Milo was dressed and looked good, except he’d started painting his toenails apparently, and I blamed Bobby for that entirely. Mae, on the other hand, was still in her pajamas, and I didn’t think I’d seen in her in real clothes in days. Her hair up, but it was more of a rat’s nest than a bun, and I’m not exactly sure when she showered last.

When I walked in the room, Milo gave me a wary look, and Mae barely glanced back at me.

She was pale with dark circles under eyes, and her face looked puffy.

“How’s it going?” I asked, trying for casual instead of concerned.

“I’m going to have to buy new towels,” Mae said. The usual warmth of her British accent sounded stogy and commandeering today. I guess that was better than tired and sobbing, so I counted it as a plus.

“You all leave the towels in your room for so long they smell of mildew, and I just can’t get it out.”

“Sorry. I’m working on it,” I said. It was probably entirely mine and Jack’s fault. We were the messiest ones in the house, unless Bobby turned out to be inordinately messy.

“I didn’t say it was your fault,” Mae was nearly snapping at me, and she was folding towels in an angry huff. This is gonna sound weird and pathological, but I’m pretty sure that Mae actually loves doing laundry.

She claims she does, and I’ve seen her folding and washing things. It’s like meditation for her. I think it’s because it’s something simple and immediate, and it’s a way that she can care for her family.

That’s all she’s ever wanted to do, and it’s about the only area she can take care of us since she can’t cook for us or tuck us in or anything. At any rate, this was not how she normally did laundry.

“Bobby and I always make sure to take our towels down,” Milo informed her, and I glared him. He wasn’t being snarky exactly, but he was definitely throwing me under the bus.

“Why is Bobby doing his laundry here, anyway?” I interjected, and I realized belatedly that I had missed very crucial facts about him. “Doesn’t he have like an apartment or a job or something?”

“He’s in art school and lives in a dorm,” Milo answered, matching my glare.

“Of course he is.” When I thought about it, Bobby really had art student written all over him. “So, does he ever go to school or anything? Why is here all the time?”

“He goes when he feels like it,” Milo shrugged. “And staying here is better than staying at a dorm, and I want him here.”

“Our house has always been open to anyone who needs it.” Mae sounded almost irritated by this fact as she folded a giant towel. “Anyone that’s ever needed a place, be they vampire or not, has always had a place. You wouldn’t believe how many people we’ve had staying with us over the years. Ezra has always had an open door policy. To anyone.” She put the folded towel in the basket with the rest of them, and then she just leaned on them for a minute, as if she was too suddenly too weary to go on. “Literally, anyone. Except for my family. Except for what matters to me.”

“Mae, you know that’s not what it’s about,” Milo said gently. He tried to put his hand on her shoulder, but she snapped back into motion and started pulling a towel out of the dryer. “And you have us here. Don’t forget that. We’re your family, too.”

“You know that I adore you, but…” She held a towel to her chest and trailed off.

“Have you made a decision yet?” I asked carefully. “About what you’re going to do?” As far as I knew, she still had her heart set on turning her great-granddaughter, and Ezra had not changed his mind at all.

“No.” Mae closed her eyes and shook her head. “Maybe. I don’t know.” She rubbed her forehead and smiled sadly at Milo. “I mean, if I left, you could all handle doing your laundry, couldn’t you?”

“We don’t want you to stay because of laundry!” Milo said emphatically. “You’re like the heart of the family. I don’t know would happen if you went away.” He was obviously having a hard time with the idea of her going away. I wouldn’t be thrilled about it myself, but he seemed more dependant on her than I was.