MARY

I could kill you, Mark Stuber.

The women waved goodbye to their buffer as he left the doll house. They stood motionless for what seemed like an eternity, hoping Mark would bust back in and say he was just kidding, a goofy grin playing on his face. Preferably with doughnuts, Mary mused. This new beginning stuff has got me starved.

"I guess we could go to Java Joes."

"Huh?" Mary turned to face Wiley.

"It's, like, this Coffee shop down the street. We could, I do know… get…coffee."

"Yeah… yeah I know it. I used to go there when I was your age." Mary thought back to the days when she'd get on her bike, sometimes with Brandi, peddling furiously to keep up, and head to the coffee shop on the corner of Beek and Warren. She liked to sit on the stools that faced the windows and sip hot chocolate (her taste for coffee came later), regardless of the weather, and dream of leaving New Jersey to travel the world. Travel the world with her father.

"Oh. Ok, cool then. Should we…"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure. Let's go."

And the two Shannon women walked out into the muggy New Jersey air. They headed south, towards Java Joes in silence, secretly daring one another to speak.

Alright, I'm the grown-up. I'll start. She hated starting. Marshall was better at this stuff. What stuff? Relating to your own kid? Grow a pair, Shannon. Mary cleared her throat. Wiley's head darted up from her shoes, her eyes expectant.

"So. Soccer." Really, Mary. That's all I could think of?

"Uh, yeah. I've been playing for a while. Since sixth grade."

And so it began, the steady flow of small talk. One five minute walk and two cups of coffee later Mary would learn that Wiley was the only middle-schooler to play for the high school junior varsity team and then the only freshman to make the cut to varsity and Wiley would learn a little more about her grandma and aunt and Albuquerque living.

"You married?" Wiley had already noticed the bare finger but thought she saw a slight tan line where a ring should be.

"No. Yes! Well, kind of. I kind of am. Engaged." Mary thought back to that awkward night where she told Raph she just wasn't ready for that. She knew he constant flip-flopping wasn't fair. She just couldn't bite the bullet.

"Kind of engaged? Is that like… being betrothed or what?" Mary laughed at the question. Before she knew it, the typical, vague adult response had escaped her lips as she sipped her coffee. It's complicated. The phrase seemed to echo between the two. "How? Explain."

"I just… wasn't ready to marry him. Marrying someone is a big decision. I'm not going to rush into it again-"

"Like you did with my dad." It wasn't a question. Wiley wasn't naïve. She knew her parents did not tie the knot because they were madly in love. Their union was an act of defiance, fueled by teenage hormones and a premature need to be grown-up.

The silence drowned out the whirr of the espresso machines, the chatter of the other patrons and the honking of the Jersey drivers outside. Choose your next words carefully, Shannon. "Uh… well…" Uh, well what? God, I am a real douche.

"It's fine. I didn't mean to make you feel all… weird. I was just making an example. Its not like I have a Parent Trap fantasy playing in my head. People get married, people have kids, they break-up. Look at Kimmy K."

"Who? The chick with the huge ass and the sex tape?" Watch the content, Mary.

Wiley laughed, "Yeah, her. Just got engaged and had a wedding for the glamour."

"No it wasn't that."

"So, what? You love someone else or something?" Damn, this kid needs to know everything. Why did that question bring thoughts of Marshall into her head? Mary wasn't stupid or blind or dumb. She saw how Marshall acted around her, she knew he loved her. And she knew all too well the feeling that rose in her stomach when he entered a room or even just called. She also knew how toxic she was for this perfect man and how she refused to poison him with her drama, fears and baggage. She watched as the young girl's eyes darted about, as if she was searching for an answer somewhere in Mary's face. Something about her desperate eyes made her want to confess.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess I do love someone else. A little. I guess." Her fingers traced the rim of her coffee cup.

"Well," Wiley sighed, "I guess that shit is pretty complicated, huh?"