Page 146 of Mayhem and Minnie

I stare at her for a moment. Then I sigh and shake my head at her. I knew she was a strange girl, but I never realized how strange. Next, she’ll talk about astrology and zodiac signs.

As I think on a reply that will not offend her or her belief system—she might be a Wiccan or pagan or that type of shit for all I know—the door to the room suddenly opens.

My mother comes out, already wearing her coat.

“There you are, dear. I fear I must leave you two now. There’s a matter that requires my immediate attention,” she says apologetically.

She hugs me, then does the same to Minnie, who happily returns the hug.

“What happened?” I ask.

“Julius is ill. His fiancée is worried about him.”

I click my tongue against my teeth.

Julius has always been an attention whore. I bet he heard about Mother’s dinner with me and didn’t like being overlooked.

“He’s a fucking doctor. He can take care of himself,” I mutter under my breath.

“Marlowe! You’re swearing again.” She tsks at me.

I shrug.

“He can’t stop himself,” Minnie quips, giving me a look.

“I knew I liked you, Minnie.” My mother chuckles. “I’m sad to cut this meeting short, but I’ll see you soon at my birthday party.”

“Of course.” Minnie nods and smiles.

A few more platitudes and my mother leaves.

Fucking Julius. He’s thirty-five not five.

Then again, he’s never liked when the attention was on me instead of him.

With Mother gone, I settle the bill and ask for some dessert to-go for Minnie. That done, we leave.

We get in my car and I start driving home.

Ten minutes into the ride, though, I note that she’s pouting at me.

“What now?” I ask with a roll of my eyes.

“You might have noticed I’m a little dense when it comes to some things,” she starts. “Not dumb. I’ll have you know I came first in my theoretical classes,” she makes sure to add.

“I know you’re not dumb, Minnie.” Sure, there seems to be a bit of a language barrier between us. But aside from that, she’s a bright girl.

“Good.” She nods, pleased.

“That’s it? You wanted to make sure I don’t think you’re dumb?”

“Well, partially,” she answers sheepishly. Wiggling in her seat, she turns toward me, her expression excited. The movement, however, hikes up her skirt and gives me a good eyeful of her shapely legs.

I gulp down. Is she doing this on purpose? Does she want to drive me insane?

She just told me she’s not going to sleep with me unless I put a ring on her finger, so at this point, I can only conclude she’s trying to torture me.

Alas, it’s my fault for being such a weak soul.

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