Mary and Halley (sequel to When Mary Met Halley)

twenty seven

A few days later Halley and I were snuggled up on the couch, watching a romcom and doing a fair amount of making out during the boring scenes. It was eleven and the little kids were long since asleep. The teens were in the kitchen making cupcakes and singing as per usual. We had found a very nice secondhand piano that was being delivered the following day. 

Paramjeet was in the oversized armchair with PK on her lap, paying no attention to us and doing a crossword puzzle. In ink, because she was rightfully confident. Leif was at work and due home at any time. 

"Do I look lonelyyy," Nate's rich voice floated to us above the TV as he gave Brendon Urie a run for his money. "I see the shadows on my face. People have toooold me, I don't look the same." The crow made an interested sound from his perch above the door. He loved music as much as the rest of us.

"Oh here we go," we heard the girl say in mock-exasperation as he continued. "Hand me that measuring cup, babe."

Nate was warming up. "Put my heart on my chest so that you can see it tooooo," he sang as the mixers came on.

"Goddamn but that boy can sing," Paramjeet mentioned, writing in a word. "Ow, cat, watch your claws. I know you're happy but that's my leg you're turning into a pin cushion. What's a ten letter word for 'the action of giving a misleading account or impression'?"

I had my head resting on a very soft boob and was understandably distracted. "Um," I said.

"Distortion," Halley answered effortlessly. 

The mixer stopped in time for us to catch more lyrics. "Happily ever after, how could I ask for more? A lifetime of laughter . . . "

"Yes," our friend said of the word, filling it in. "Where the hell is Leif; the show was supposed to end at eight."

As if was summoned by the words, the front door opened. 

He prefaced his appearance with, "Don't anyone freak out," and then stepped into the doorway, wincing at our shocked reactions.

He held an ice pack to his eye and was limping but it was the blood on his white work shirt that really caught the eye. 

Paramjeet jumped up, knocking PK to the floor with a surprised little mew! "What happened?" She drew him to the love seat, fawning over him. 

"I, um . . . there was this guy," he began in his liar's tone.

She grabbed his chin and gave him The Look three inches from his face, which left him rightfully quaking. "The truth, or so help me," she warned.

He sighed as the teens came in to see what was going on. "Reuben came looking for me because I've been avoiding his texts and calls. I told him he was unfortunately going to need to suffer through life without me, and he, um, didn't take it well." He pulled the ice pack away to show us his swollen-shut eye and then replaced it.

"Goddammit," Charlotte said in exasperation. "Aren't you a kickboxer now?"

"I know, right?" Paramjeet responded, lips thin.

"He's, um, he was my instructor," he admitted. "And this is not my fault," he protested, leaning back and moaning a little. 

"You picked him," his sister pointed out. "And stayed with him even though he was . . . rough or whatever." She crossed her arms.

"Go away, Char," he whined. 

She narrowed her eyes but went back to the kitchen. 

"Someone should do something about his deplorable behavior," Paramjeet said, her words clipped as she sat again. The cat jumped back into her lap and began kneading her immediately.