CHAPTER 10: Charlotte
When we got home, we found Marcus sitting on the porch. "Hi, you guys," he called as we got out of the car.
"Hi," I answered. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jake looking at Marcus as if to say, You try anything, and so help me God, I'll break every bone in your body.
"We're just going to put the pot of chili on," Jake told him, acting as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening. Marcus nodded, turned around, and went inside. Whether or not he knew how Jake was feeling, I don't know. I suspected that he knew damn well how upset Jake was. I would be, if I were in that position.
When we got inside, Marcus went to the bathroom to wash up as Jake and I went to the kitchen. Jake took the pot of chili out of the fridge and put it on the stove as I got three bowls out of the cupboard, and three spoons and glasses out of the drawer and drainer.
"Water for me, Charlotte," Marcus said, poking his head in the kitchen doorway as I got the pitcher of raspberry tea out of the fridge. "Thanks."
"Sure," I agreed. "Uh, I don't put too much sugar in it, do I?"
"No, your tea's fine; I guess I'm just in a water mood."
I happened to glance over my shoulder while pouring our drinks, and could hear Jake muttering under his breath, "...that no-good, rotten sack of shit...(grumble, grumble, grumble)...can't stand him...(grumble, grumble)...want to just pound his ass into the ground...(grumble, grumble)...somebody better call 911, 'cause there's going to be a homicide..."
When Jake looked up from the stove, he saw the way I was looking at him. The last time I'd had that look on my face was when I caught Andrea Prezzioso playing with her mother's favorite pearl necklace, which we Baby-sitters—as well as her sister, Jenny—have told her a million times to never, ever fool around with. And that was all it took to shut him up.
Dinner was pretty silent. The guys spent the entire time avoiding eye contact, and refused to speak to each other. They did, however, talk to me, especially if they wanted me to pass them something, like the salt and pepper. In the back of my mind, I thought, You two are acting like such babies. If I was in that situation now, that's exactly what I would've said to them.
"Oh, I got an e-mail from Mary Anne today," I said, as if that's what we'd been discussing all along.
"Oh, really?" Jake asked, taking a sip of tea. "How's she doing?"
"Oh, pretty good," I answered. "Oh, remember when I told you about their daughter, Mimi?"
"Yeah. She's autistic, right? Like Susan Felder?"
"Actually, Mimi has Asperger's syndrome," I explained. "Susan is severely autistic. Even though she can play the piano and sing beautifully, she can't communicate with others too well. Granted, she's gotten better at it since we first met her—thanks to the communication board she got when she was twelve—but it's still hard sometimes. Mimi, on the other hand, NEVER stops talking. She can go on for hours on end about Charlie & Lola, and can even imitate their accents."
"Oh, okay," Jake said. "She sounds like a walking encyclopedia."
"I'll say. She can drive you crazy sometimes, but she's still a real sweetheart."
I happened to look in Marcus' direction, and saw him sitting there staring at his bowl. Apparently, he wasn't very hungry.
Oh, by the way, sorry for getting off the subject here, but Mimi was named after Claudia Kishi's maternal grandmother. From what Claudia and Mary Anne have told me, she was a wonderful woman. She and Claudia were especially close, and she was a second mother to Mary Anne, because Mrs. Spier died when Mary Anne was just a baby. I think she'd be honored that Mary Anne chose her to be her daughter's namesake.
After dinner, the three of us headed into the living room. I sat on the ottoman, Jake sat in the armchair, and Marcus sat on the futon. "Marc, we need to talk," Jake said.
"Yeah?" Marcus said, folding his arms and scooting as far back into the futon as he could.
"We couldn't help noticing how you've been acting lately, and it scares us," I said. "Well, mostly me. So, what's going on?"
"Well, as Jake knows, I've always had a problem with being interrupted," Marcus began. "I also have a problem with people consulting others and doing things without letting me know. Even as a kid, I've always hated being corrected. I mean, haven't you?"
"I think we've all been there," I agreed. "But this is about you."
"Right."
Marcus took a deep breath and continued, "I'm sorry for taking money, first of all. I was just trying to pay back the rent I still owed on my apartment. I'm just glad it's final-ly paid off."
"Tell us more about yourself," I said.
"Well, as you know, I have an older brother and a younger sister, Harry and Jeanette," he began. "He's a pediatrician, and she's in college studying to be a victim's advocate, which means she'll be helping women who—well, you know..."
"Yes, I do."
"Anyway, our parents were married right out of high school, and Harry was born a year later. He was in kindergarten when I was born, and I was getting ready to start first grade when my sister came along. Our parents were killed in a car accident when I was nine, and we were sent to live with Mom's sister in New Jersey. She raised us until she died of cancer the summer I was seventeen. Sometime after their house was sold, the three of us moved to Mercer. Harry took charge of the house, since he was old enough, and my sister and I were able to finish school. Of course, a caseworker from Job & Family Services checked up on us once a month, because—well, that was their job. After I graduated, I moved to Stamford and stayed with Dad's folks while I went to college, then here for my internship. When Harry started his third year of med school, his schedule was so unpredictable that Jeanette had to live with us for a while. And as for the money, Dad lost his job around the time Jeanette was born, and we were desperate with five mouths to feed, so Dad would go out and pretty much beg, borrow, and steal whatever he could get his hands on. Luckily, he never spent nineteen years in jail for stealing a loaf of bread, and our parents were pretty sane, so we didn't have to worry about them purposely making one of us sick just to get a handout. The cops never caught Dad, either, and when the town learned of our situation, they tried to help out in any way they could."
While Marcus was talking, I was almost tempted to pretend to take notes, but decided not to. I didn't want him to think I was being condescending.
"What about this money habit?" Jake asked.
"Well," Marcus said, "I've never stolen before. I guess I did it out of desperation, like Dad did."
Jake and I nodded. I was glad to have gotten everything out in the open, and that he'd explained his behavior.
"All right," Jake said, clearing his throat. "Look, Marc, we're sorry for everything you've been through growing up. Believe me, I wouldn't wish that on my worst enemy. But Charlotte and I don't like the way you've been acting toward us, especially that little stunt you pulled when we got home from the wrestling meet. How would you like it if we announced personal business about your family to the whole neighborhood?"
I really have to give Jake credit for controlling his temper. If I were him, I would've read Marcus the riot act big-time.
Anyway, that was the one question that made Marcus hang his head. He really felt ashamed of himself. I hadn't seen anyone look that guilty since Kristy suspected me and a few other kids of reading the BSC notebook. It amazes me to this day that she wasn't screaming bloody murder at us.
"I'm sorry, Jake," he said softly, looking at the floor. "I didn't mean that. It's just that I didn't know anything about the other side of the duplex being available."
"But I told you that before you moved in, remember?" I reminded him. It really surprised me that he'd forgotten all about it.
"Oh, that's right," Marcus remembered. He must have felt like an idiot. "I guess I forgot."
"So, why did you do that?" Jake wanted to know. "Why did you embarrass me in front of my girlfriend?"
Marcus sighed heavily. It was very obvious that he was trying not to cry. "I thought you were getting rid of me," he said in a small voice. "I mean, first my parents get killed, then my aunt dies, now this. I feel like everybody I know is just ditching me. Did you know that the call I got from Jeanette was the first time I'd heard from her in over two months? It's like she's too busy with school to talk to her own brother. And I haven't seen or heard from Harry since he moved down to Atlanta last summer. And you know what the worst part is? They just packed up and left without saying good-bye."
"But how did she get our number? It's unlisted," I told him.
"I got it off one of your business cards," Marcus answered. "I'm sorry I didn't ask you first. I'll try to do better next time."
"Anyway, just because your brother and sister are busy with their own lives doesn't mean they don't care about you, Marcus," I said gently as I got up and sat next to him on the futon. "And I don't think they meant to leave without saying good-bye. Sometimes it just happens."
Marcus just shrugged and looked away.
"You know what I think? Jake said after a minute. "Granted, I don't know the first thing about psychology, but I think you were afraid of the possibility of something like that happening again. You didn't want to be put in that position with us, so you treated us the way you did before we could get a chance to know you. You thought that just when you had a good thing going on, something else would come along and take it all away. And you felt the only way to prevent that was to mess it up on purpose before it had the chance to turn into something good. Does that about cover it?"
"I guess," Marcus admitted, a catch in his voice. "I'm so sorry, you guys. I don't know what I was thinking. I wish I'd never done it."
I picked up the box of Kleenex on the coffee table and held it for Marcus. He took one, and I wrapped him in a hug. And yes, he was already crying by now. "Shh," I whispered. "I know you didn't mean anything by it."
"It won't happen again, I swear to God," Marcus sobbed.
"Don't let it," Jake said, in the most matter-of-fact voice I'd ever heard anyone use.
After Marcus had finally calmed down, he said, "Oh, by the way, I've got something to show you." He got up, walked over to the coat rack, and took a little white envelope out of his jacket pocket.
"This is some of the money I owe you," he said, handing it to Jake. "I got it from doing odd jobs around the motel I'm staying at, as well as raking leaves for some of the neighbors. I know it's not all of what I owe you, but it's the best I can do right now."
"Thanks, Marc," Jake said as he handed the envelope to me. I counted $74.50. "That's very considerate of you."
"Sure," Marcus agreed. "And by the way, about your sister's boyfriend and all? I made the whole thing up. She did call, though."
As soon as Marcus said that, something occurred to Jake. "I forgot to call her back, didn't I?" he realized. "Shit! Laurel hates it when people don't call her back. Oh, she'll never let me hear the end of this!"
"Oh, she'll get over it," I reassured him.
"Yeah, in about a million years."
"Here, this should cheer you up," Marcus said, taking a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and handing it to me.
"What's this?" I asked as I unfolded it.
"A lease on an apartment downtown," he answered. "This morning, I got a call from Keith Roberts, my college roommate. He just got a job at the community college, and is looking for a place to stay, so we got together and got this apartment. Starting tomorrow, we'll be moving there."
"Really? That's great!" I exclaimed as he and Jake high-fived. "Will you still have the same job?"
"It'll be a twenty-minute drive, but yes."
This was great news, and as Marcus predicted, it cheered Jake right up.
That night, we were in bed, listening to the rain fall. We were also making love, and the fact that it was just the two of us again made it even better than before.
"A penny for your thoughts?" I asked sometime after we finished.
"Well, I'm just glad this whole mess is finally over with," Jake said. "You know, as much of a pain in the ass as he was, I will give him credit for respecting our privacy."
"Yeah, I'm glad he didn't tap int our e-mail accounts and change our passwords, invite people over without our permission, or keep us up at all hours of the night. And best of all, I didn't have to fight him off every day like he was Pepe le Pew."
Jake laughed softly. "Yeah, it's a good thing he behaved himself, or he'd be in the ICU right now."
I laid on top of Jake and rested my head on his shoulder as he ran his fingertips up and down my back, sides, and butt—which really tickles, especially when I'm naked. That's the one thing he always does when we're in bed, and once in a while, it escalates into a full-on tickle-fight.
"I'm really proud of you for not losing your temper and getting yourself in trouble," I said as I settled myself next to him and gently stroked his hair and face. "I knew he was egging you on, and waiting for you to blow your stack. And I thought for sure that you were seriously going to hurt him. I'm glad you didn't."
"Me, too, babe," Jake agreed. "Hey, Char?"
"Hmm?"
"I was wondering, are you sure your supervisor doesn't know about this?"
I shook my head, not knowing how Jake would feel about my not telling anyone about the whole situation.
"They don't know he was living here?"
"No."
"Well, I don't suppose it would've been such a big deal if anyone knew. Now, if they found out what he was doing, then there'd be a problem."
I nodded. "And they don't know he was taking money, either."
"Personally, if it were me, I definitely would've blown the whistle on him," Jake pointed out. "But at any rate, it's all over now, so I really don't see any point in pursuing this matter any further, do you?"
"No," I agreed as I snuggled closer to him and put his hand on my breast. "Now, let's get some shut-eye, okay?"
Jake nodded, and we gave each other a kiss.
As we drifted off to sleep, I felt like a huge weight had been lifted off my shoulders. We were still together, and still loved each other. Marcus had apologized for how he'd treated us and found a place to live, just as he'd promised. In that moment, everything was the way it should be.
