Part II: Coming Home
Mary took a taxi from the airport to her still-family-free home. She'd dialled Marshall's number out of habit but stopped herself before she hit send. She wasn't ready to see her partner, and she was almost certain he wouldn't want to see her. She'd managed to push their last conversation from her mind for most of her vacation, but now she was home and reality was rearing its ugly head, forcing her to think.
The cabbie helped carry her bags to the front step, Mary was too tired to protest, or to fish exact change from her purse. The man gladly accepted the twenty she tossed him and wished her a wonderful day.
"Yeah, right." Mary muttered in response. If he noticed the bitterness in her tone he was too polite to let on.
She muscled her bags into Jinx's old bedroom, nothing in them that couldn't wait a few days to be unpacked, and headed straight for her bedroom. A nice long shower and then sleep, that was all she wanted.
In one week she would return to work, but until them she was going to soak up as much leisure time as humanly possible. Lots of sleep and pool time, and most importantly, she wasn't going to think about anything at all.
The last week of Mary's vacation flew by. The No Thinking plan worked surprisingly well and she was able to enjoy a week of shopping with Brandi, swimming in her backyard pool and devouring a stack of dusty novels she'd been meaning to read for years. Whenever Marshall's voice penetrated the fog of happy ignorance she reminded it her family was about all the messy a person could handle.
Her first day back at work Mary left home an hour earlier than normal with half a mind to grab the files for her witnesses and spend the rest of the day out doing house calls. Usually a chore she left for Marshall or avoided altogether, but it sounded better than sitting in the office all day surrounded by all the thoughts she'd been avoiding for weeks.
She was surprised to see Marshall already seated at his desk filling out a stack of paperwork. "How was vacation?" He asked without looking up.
"Nice." Mary answered shooting him a puzzled look. "Any crises while I was away?"
"No."
When he didn't continue Mary sank into her desk chair and powered up her computer. The silence of the office was broken only by the sound of her computer booting up. It was foreign and awkward. Even when she'd been brand new to WITSEC she and Marshall had never been quiet for long.
"Look Marshall," she paused and licked her suddenly dry lips, "I'm... sorry about..." she paused again, her brain searching frantically for the right words and coming up empty, "before. I –"
"It's fine." Marshall cut her off.
"But—"
"Seriously Mary, it was three weeks ago. Don't worry about it."
The 'Mary' jolted her as much as the cool detached tone of his voice. He hardly ever called her Mary, not when it was just the two of them. When he did there was a warmth to his voice that today was completely absent. What have I done? She fought a surge of panic. Where was her best friend and who was this semi-formal imposter sitting at his desk? She wanted to shake him, slap him, do something to snap him out of it and bring back her quick witted, often verbose partner.
Somehow she didn't think violence would actually help in this situation, so she tried a lighter tactic. "Want to grab a drink after work?"
Still Marshall failed to meet her eyes. "Sorry, I have a date."
Four weeks ago Mary would have teased him about this, pushing for details and making slurs against his sexuality. Today the news sank in her stomach like lead. "I didn't know you were seeing anyone."
"It's only our third date." Marshall replied, his tone casual.
Third date? Mary was stunned. Not only was Marshall dating, but he had to have started dating this woman not long after she left. Suddenly she felt incredibly foolish.
Someone who challenges you. Who calls you on your BS, 'n gets in your face,'n makes you think….
Of course he hadn't meant himself. Marshall was her best friend, he'd seen her at her very worst and at her best – which most days was on par with other people's worst – of course he didn't mean he was the someone.
And why did it matter anyway? It wasn't like Mary loved Marshall that way. Right? They were friends. She cared about him deeply, but as a friend.
So why did she feel like the world was collapsing around her because Marshall had a date?
The rest of the day was a blur. Marshall was pleasant, but distant. Stan was out leaving just the two of them with a mountain of paperwork to catch up on.
Handling his own witnesses along with Mary's had stretched Marshall a little thin and even he hadn't been able to keep up. Mary's plans to spend the day out in the fresh air visiting witnesses crumbled as soon as she realized Marshall had been pulling 18 hour shifts in an attempt to keep up with the constant stream of paper that went along with the more interesting parts of the job.
In a near desperate bid to regain her equilibrium, Mary handed Marshall a ten dollar bill and sent him on a coffee run while she sorted through the pile of paper and moved all that pertained to her witnesses to her desk. She used the time until he returned to stuff her unwanted feelings deep into the box labelled don't touch, somewhere between her father's abandonment and her brief marriage to Mark, and by filling out what she could of his paperwork, returning to her own only when she heard the elevator doors sliding open.
It was after seven when she staggered into her house, a bag of takeout in one hand. She pulled a cold beer from the fridge and collapsed on her couch to devour a lukewarm cheese burger and fries. She had a headache and her wrist ached from the long hours filling out forms. Half an hour later she was fast asleep.
When Marshall set his mind to something he did it wholeheartedly. He'd told himself in the second week of Mary's vacation that he needed to move on, for real, for good. The next day he secured a date with a pretty brunette names Sarah from his mambo classes.
Their first date was unremarkable. Marshall was too busy fighting, mostly without success, his tendency to compare all women to Mary to really get to know her. Sarah was superior to Mary in several ways, mental and emotional stability near the top of the list, but her sweet openness felt wrong to a man used to loving the human equivalent of a Cholla Opuntia Bigelovii. They'd made it through dinner and a movie and he'd even received a gentle goodnight kiss on the cheek from his date.
He dreamt of Mary that night after he dropped Sarah off at her condo. In the morning he called Sarah and arranged a second date. This time instead of a quiet dinner they would hit the countryside on horseback, a love of Marshall's that was completely lost on Mary. If I wanted to walk bowlegged for the rest of the day, I can think of a more fun way to get there.
Sarah was a better horsewoman than Marshall had expected and they had a ton of fun exploring the country side. When he dropped her off he initiated the goodnight kiss, this time on the lips.
The night after the second date, he dreamt of the wild desert and coyotes, and of Mary.
Tonight they would have their third date. Dinner again, and dancing. If it went well Marshall hoped the starring role in his dreams might belong to a new face, one who wouldn't break his heart.
In her dream Mary was once again in the Mexican hotel room. She was wearing the strappy blue dress she'd bought at the market with Faber and there was a bottle of champagne and a plate of chocolate covered strawberries on a room service cart near the balcony.
She poured a glass of champagne and picked up a strawberry, bringing both out into the warm evening air. The sound of a shower running suddenly ceased and Mary expected Faber to enter at any moment. She bit into the strawberry and relished the sweet flavour.
Strong arms circled her waist and Mary leaned back against a damp, lean chest. His hot mouth pressed a line of open mouthed kisses along her neck and she hummed in pleasure.
Mary turned within the circle of his arms and met his mouth with her own. The kiss was passionate, unfamiliar and yet so very right. When she pulled away for breath she saw the face of her paramour for the first time.
"Marshall?"
Mary sat up with a start. "Oh sweet Jesus."
