Page 128 of Mayhem and Minnie

She shakes her head.

“Any preferences then?”

“I can eat mostly anything. I can’t eat a lot of meat since it can make me sick, but otherwise, I’m not picky.”

“Really?” My mother’s eyes widen and she looks at me questioningly. “This rascal of mine is the pickiest eater I’ve ever met in my life. How do you put up with it, dear?”

Minnie blinks.

“He’s not picky, though,” she adds in confusion. “He eats everything I cook. He hasn’t refused any of the things I’ve made so far.”

“You cook his meals?” My mother gasps.

“Of course.” Minnie nods in all seriousness. “It’s part of my duties.”

I squeeze her hand tighter. I don’t think this is the time to tell my mother about our arrangement.

“Oh my, aren’t you a little gem!” my mother gushes. “You’re exactly what I envisioned for my son.” She dabs again at her eyes. “You’re so pretty and sweet, and you cook! I don’t think there’s anything else I could have asked for.”

“I also clean and do laundry,” Minnie chimes in, proud of herself.

I give her a pointed look.

“You do! Good Lord! He let you in his house?”

I shake my head at Minnie. Damn it. I should have instructed her not to say anything about our relationship.

“Of course. We live together,” Minnie answers matter-of-factly.

My mother almost faints at the news. She gasps for air, holding on to her chest as if she’s about to have a heart attack. Tears are streaming down her face and she releases an audible sigh.

“You live together? Oh, dear God, this is absolutely astonishing but so wonderful to hear. Minnie, darling, I’m so happy you’re here today.” More tears. “I cannot express in words the joy I feel at knowing my child has someone by his side. He’s always been so alone…” More sighs.

I flatten my lips as I wait for her theatrics to end. I love my mother, I do. But she can be a bit…much. And while she’s genuine, her way of showing emotion is just too direct for my taste.

“So tell me, how did you two meet? Marlowe never told me anything about a girl until I had to pry it out of Giles. I can’t even imagine him going out on his own to meet someone. He rarely even goes out these days,” my mother continues.

Perhaps Minnie and I should have agreed on a narrative for this dinner. The oversight on my part is unforgivable, but lately, my focus has been otherwise occupied.

“He saved me,” Minnie answers buoyantly.

“He did? My Marlowe?” My mother’s eyes widen.

I sigh.

“Oh, yes. He was so cool. You should have seen him. He was like one of those superheroes from the movies. I’ve stuck by his side ever since.”

“And he allowed it?” Mother raises a brow.

“He offered,” Minnie quips, satisfied with herself.

“This is fascinating,” my mother comments. “I’ve never known Marlowe to be this…altruistic.”

“I’m not,” I mumble.

“Of course you’re not, dear. I know that,” my mother says as she reaches out to pat my hand. “But I’m glad there’s an exception to your surliness.”

I glare at her and remove my hand from the table.

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