Page 39 of When I Found You

“I’ll stay.” Marcy’s voice raises a fraction. “You have to work in the morning. Go. I’ll call if I need anything.”

“Okay. I’ll check in tomorrow,” Rob’s reply carries across my fading consciousness.

I mumble goodbye and fall into the darkness, tuning out the world at last.

When I struggle to open my eyes breaking free from a dream I can’t quite remember, there’s sunlight streaming through the gaps in the curtains. I stretch and slowly roll to the edge of the bed. Exhaustion slowly fades as I stand and head for the bathroom.

One glance in the mirror makes me cringe. My frizzy hair resembles an unraveling loofa. I tame it with a brush, tying it back before brushing my teeth. Considering how fucked up I was last night, I’m stunned to find I’m even able to function this morning.

Hangovers in my thirties are ten times worse than they were when I was in my twenties. Fortunately, the wine didn’t linger, so there was no evidence of my blunder complete with headache and misery.

However, the memory of the night before lingers and pierces me with regret. I hide my face, embarrassed to even meet my own gaze in the mirror. How can I even show my face after that? Maybe I can gather some things and slip out the door before anyone realizes it.

Rob and Marcy were more than kind. They were amazing. I wince at the knowledge they were even present to witness the events of the night before. But in the end, I am grateful they were there in the aftermath of hurricanes Arthur and Kate.

I vaguely remember a conversation between Marcy and Rob before I drifted off. Did she stay last night? But where was Arthur?

Steeling myself for whatever I might find, I take a breath and leave the safety of the bedroom.

Marcy glances up from her seat on the couch and sets her coffee mug aside. “You’re awake.”

“Yeah.” I shuffle closer.

“Want some coffee?” She’s already on her feet and halfway to the kitchen when she asks.

“Sure.” I follow and lean against the counter watching her pour the steaming brew into a plain white mug.

“Hungry? I can whip you up some eggs or pop some toast in for you if eggs are too heavy.” Her concern warms my heart.

“Toast first.” I smile. “Thanks, Marcy.”

“Of course, what are friends for?” She puts some bread in the toaster and gets some butter and jam out of the fridge. “Go sit at the table. I’ll bring it over.”

I take the chair closest to the huge window. The sun streams over the city, nearly cresting in the sky. I glance at the clock. Just after eleven am.

Marcy bustles in and sets a plate with buttered toast with a side of jam in front of me right beside my coffee. She drops into the chair next to mine and smiles.

“Feeling better today?”

“Yeah.” I take a bite of the perfectly browned toast. “I’m sorry about last night.”

She waves it off. “Don’t even worry about it. We all have those moments, hon. I’m glad I was here to help.”

The question burns my mind and I’m terrified to ask her even though I know it’s inevitable. “Where’s Arthur?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs with a sigh. “He went out and never came back.”

Fear grips me. “Aren’t you worried about him?”

Marcy chuckles. “Worried? About my brother? No. I mean, I am, but not because I’m afraid something bad happened to him because he didn’t come home yet. This wouldn’t be the first time he wandered off to clear his head.”

I sip the coffee and it warms me instantly.

“When we were kids, Arthur would wander off after an argument. Some days he wouldn’t return home until after midnight.” She laughed at the memory. “Mom would get so mad, but it didn’t stop him.”

“Where did he go?”

“No one knows. To this day, he still won’t tell me where he goes to think.” Marcy shakes her head. “He calls it his spot. I bet that’s where he went last night. It’s where he always goes, especially to get away from me.”

---