And One Last Thing... Part 17

"Nice," the younger one said, offering his own smug grin as he took in my bare, coffee-splattered legs.

I straightened, pulling the T-s.h.i.+rt as far down over my thighs as I could as I backed into the bedroom. I smiled way too brightly, my cheeks hot and flushed. "Well, if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to... go die of embarra.s.sment."

"Thanks a lot, guys," I heard Monroe say as I closed the bathroom door behind me. I pressed a cold washcloth over the reddened skin on my chest. And then I put another on my cheeks. I leaned my head back against the bathroom wall and murmured, "Lord, I know we haven't talked in a while. I'm Lacey Terwilliger, soon-to-be just Lacey Vernon. You've smote me pretty good this year, what with the cheating spouse and the public humiliation and all, so if you could just move on to someone else, I'd really appreciate it."

"Lacey," Monroe said, appearing at the bathroom door. "I am so sorry. I had no idea they were coming. Their schedules are so crazy, I usually have at least two weeks' notice."

"Why can't I meet anyone in your family while wearing pants?"

He shrugged. "I met you without pants and I like you just fine."

"Not helping."

"You have to admit, it's a little funny," he said, chuckling. "I mean, of all the ways they could have met you. You're going to look back at this and..." He stopped that conversational train wreck in its tracks when I scowled at him. "You're right. It's too soon to even think about laughing. Levity is dead to me."

I turned toward him, leaning against the bathroom counter and burying my face in my hands. "Oh, come on, sweetheart," he said, lifting me up on the counter and wrapping his arms around me. "It's not that bad."

I groaned into his chest.

"It was memorable," he offered, reaching around me to run the washcloth under the tap. He wiped the cool cloth down my legs, clearing away the sticky drying coffee. He swirled it up over my knees, up my thighs, sweeping between my legs. I moaned a little, and he captured the sound with his mouth. He hitched my newly clean legs over his hips and ground against me.

"I know a way to make you feel better," he murmured against my lips as he slowly slid the damp s.h.i.+rt up my body. I broke away from his kiss, and pushed him halfheartedly.

"I am not doing this with your whole family in the living room," I told him, finally able to laugh. "They already think I'm some trampy T-s.h.i.+rt thief."

"Yes, so, the damage is done. Might as well take advantage." He ghosted his fingers across my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, gently tweaking the nipples. My ankles flexed around his hips, pulling him closer.

"You're insane!" I laughed, as he nuzzled my neck. He cradled my cooling cheeks in his palms, and kissed me tenderly I smiled up at him. "Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?"

"Because I'm not a woman?"

"Seriously, this is important stuff. Birthdays, food allergies, the location of tattoos I may have missed so far."

Monroe shrugged, lacing his fingers through mine. "I just didn't want to make a big deal out of it. And I know you, Lace, me casually dropping it into conversation would make you think you had to make a fuss."

"You're right. Your whole family surprising me while I'm running through the living room commando, that's the very definition of low-key."

"If I agree that I should have told you, can I unwrap my present?" he asked as he pulled the s.h.i.+rt over my head.

"You are just not giving up on this, are you?"

As he shook his head and kissed my neck, I slid my hand in the bathroom drawer, searching around for condoms. He lifted my b.u.t.t, securing my legs around his hips. I braced my hands against the counter and thought that this was something I would never have done before meeting Monroe.

"You are a very bad influence on me," I whispered as he slipped into me, inch by inch.

Monroe went out to smooth things over with his family while I showered. I reeked of spilled coffee and hurried, quiet s.e.x, and that just wasn't the way I wanted to spend the morning. By the time I emerged from the bedroom, fully clothed in a very modest turtleneck, Monroe's mother was sliding cinnamon rolls out of the oven and reminding her youngest son, Andy, that setting the breakfast table didn't mean tossing the dishes in the middle of the table and walking away. Monroe's father was looking through the bookshelves for t.i.tles he hadn't read yet. And Monroe and his oldest brother, Matt, were arguing over the most efficient way to get kindling started in the fireplace, which sounded remarkably like a scene from The Great Outdoors.

I walked into the kitchen and handed Janice Monroe a trivet for the hot pan and dragged a bunch of mismatched juice gla.s.ses out of the cabinet. "I'm so sorry about earlier, Mrs. Monroe. Or I guess, it's Dr. Monroe, isn't it?"

"Call me Janice, sweetheart," she said, patting my shoulder. "We're all Dr. Monroe, so it could get confusing otherwise. And don't worry about earlier. I raised three boys. There's not much you can do to shock me."

"Oh, good. But, for the sake of my conscience, I should probably say I'm sorry I flipped out and cursed in front of you. Not the best first impression, I know. I just never imagined meeting Monroe's parents."

"You didn't think he had any?"

I pursed my lips. "I'd imagined some sort of hatching scenario."

She laughed. "Someday I'll tell you about the time I came into Franny's room early one morning to find his homecoming date -"

"That's not a story we need to share," Monroe said, striding into the room and giving his mother a warning glance. Janice glared right back and pushed a carton of juice into his hands.

"So early-morning raids are habit with you?" I asked. "Wait, did you just call him Franny?"

Monroe groaned. "Mom, we've talked about this. I'm not Franny, especially in front of other people."

"Well, his father was already Frank. He refused to go with Francis or Bernard," Janice said, turning her attention back to the stove, where she was heating a pan for eggs. "It's a perfectly acceptable nickname."

"Did people call you Franny in high school?" I asked. He scowled at me. "So much of your personality makes sense now."

"Do you see why I went with Lefty, even if it took getting shot in the a.s.s?" he asked as his mother swatted at him with a dish towel.

"You get out of here so we can talk about you," she said.

"Actually, I think I'm going to head on home, give you guys some s.p.a.ce. I don't want to intrude on a family thing," I said.

"Don't be silly!" she exclaimed while Monroe practically barred my escape route with his body. "I've seen you half-naked. You know about my son's embarra.s.sing, effeminate nickname. Franny likes you enough to declare an embargo on certain stories from his adolescence. You're practically family now, anyway."

"You have strange standards for family members.h.i.+p," I told her.

She grinned, her eyes twinkling just like her son's, and handed me a mixing bowl and a carton of eggs. Monroe hesitated for a total of two seconds, shot me an apologetic look over his shoulder, and then abandoned me like a rat running from a sinking s.h.i.+p.

Coward.

"I should apologize to you, Lacey," she said in a softer, more serious tone. "Franny didn't tell us he was seeing anyone. Otherwise, we would have had the sense to call. Don't take that personally, he doesn't tell us about anyone he's dating. Ever since Sarah, he hasn't made a habit of..."

"Making friends with ladies?" I suggested helpfully.

"Yes, thank you," she said, chuckling. "It's obvious my son likes you very much if he lets you invade his inner sanctum. I don't remember the last time someone besides family was allowed in his home. So I want you to know -"

"Mom?" Monroe called from the living room. "Don't forget that it's Matt that likes fried eggs. The rest of us like scrambled."

"Like I could forget something like that!" she called back.

She smiled at me. "Ten minutes together and it's like the boys are kids again. Lacey, I want you to know -"

"Hey, Mom?" Monroe called again. "Are you making toast? Because I have a new jar of strawberry jelly in the cabinet."

Janice frowned. I rolled my eyes and said, "I'll get the toast."

"Anyway, Lacey," Janice started again just as Monroe yelled, "Hey, Mom! There's grape jelly, too, in the fridge."

"I know exactly what you're doing, Francis Bernard Monroe!" she said, storming into the living room, hands on hips. "Don't for one second think you can keep Lacey and me from having a civilized conversation."

I laughed as Monroe insisted it was worth a shot and tried to convince his mother to declare a moratorium on all stories about him that did not extend from events of the past year. His mother ignored him and turned back toward the kitchen.

"It was a little ham-handed, son," Monroe's father told him, shaking his silver head in disdain. "You should know by now the best way to distract your mother is by breaking something semi-valuable in another room."

"Or pus.h.i.+ng one of your brothers down the stairs," Matt muttered in a resentful tone that labeled him as a "pushee."

"Or hiding the incriminating wrappers from her secret chocolate stash in your brother's room," Andy suggested.

"I knew that was you, you little b.a.s.t.a.r.d," Monroe griped.

"I don't know whose children they are," Janice told me. "They're the product of terrible parenting, obviously. They just showed up on our doorstep one day and we took them in."

By this time I was leaned against the counter, laughing so hard I had a st.i.tch in my side.

We finally got breakfast on the table, after Janice insisted her sons and husband "get off their chauvinistic a.s.ses and help." I suddenly understood where Monroe got his unique grasp of the English language. There was quite a bit of plate shuffling, tossing of cinnamon rolls across the table, and fights over the "good" strips of bacon, but eventually everyone was leaning back in their chairs and moaning about eating too much.

"So what exactly do you do when your family comes to visit?" I asked Monroe quietly as his brothers loudly argued over the last cinnamon roll.

"Well, my dad comes up with a big itinerary for the day. Hiking, renting a pontoon boat, visiting that apple orchard off County Line Road. He usually ends up falling asleep right after breakfast and napping through lunch. My brothers watch basketball games. I spend most of the day fighting Mom off of my laundry hamper. We play a couple of board games while my dad snores. Mom makes a big dinner, we eat, and they all go back to their motel room, leaving me to appreciate the silence of my little home."

"Wow," I marveled. "Still sounds like more fun than Christmas with the Terwilligers."

He snickered and tugged gently on my hair. I looked up and found that Matt was staring at me.

"Do I have jelly on my face?" I asked.

"No, it's just you look really familiar. Where do I know you from?" Matt asked.

"I just have one of those faces," I said, shooting a covert glance at Monroe.

"No, I saw you somewhere, like on TV or something. Were you on one of those reality dating shows?"

I tried to play it off with a laugh, while the blood drained out of my face. "Yes, I must confess, I was that girl who threw up while making out with Bret Michaels on Rock of Love."

"No, that girl was a redhead," Andy said. "But now that you mention it, Lacey does look familiar."

"Drop it, guys," Monroe warned.

"Oh, my G.o.d, you're that crazy e-mail chick!" Andy exclaimed.

I froze, with an expression akin to Bambi caught in headlights.

"Andrew, the family policy is that we don't call people crazy until we've known them at least twenty-four hours," Janice said sternly.

"What is he talking about?" Frank asked.

"Nothing," Monroe growled, shooting his brothers a face-melting death glare. "They have Lacey mixed up with someone else."

"No, crazy e-mail chick's name was Lacey, too. I remember now," Matt said. "You know, the nurses at my office printed that out and taped it to the refrigerator in the break room? You're like a role model to them. I can't wait to tell them I met you. I will admit that while the actual letter scared the c.r.a.p out of me and my Y chromosome, I thought it was pretty awesome that you nailed your husband like that. He sounded like a sc.u.mbag."

"What are you talking about?" Janice demanded.

When Monroe opened his mouth to protest again, I put my hand on his arm. "It's not like they can't go home and google me," I said. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "A few months back, I found out my husband was cheating on me -"

"And she sent everybody he knew an e-mail busting him out as a 'spineless, d.i.c.kless wonder'!" Matt exclaimed. "It was hilarious!"

"Actually, it was 'spineless, s.h.i.+ftless, useless, d.i.c.kless wonder," I mumbled, unable to look up at the elder Monroes' faces.

Andy picked up my hand and pressed it to his chest. "You made me laugh until coffee came out of my nose; therefore, I pledge my undying loyalty to you. In fact, if you and Franny break up, I'd be glad to be your shoulder to cry on -"

Monroe cuffed Andy on the back of the head. "Keep your shoulders, and all your other parts, away from my girlfriend."

At the use of the word "girlfriend," I stiffened, particularly given Andy's big announcement. Monroe's parents probably weren't going to be thrilled that his new... "special lady friend" had recently been featured on David Letterman's Top Ten Women Who Make Your Wife Look Better list.

"I remember reading something about that. Your husband cheated on you?" Monroe's father asked. "Left you for another woman?"

I nodded, mentally calculating exactly how much time I would allow to pa.s.s before succ.u.mbing to embarra.s.sment and bolting for the door.

"Well, he's obviously an idiot," Frank said dismissively, before sipping his coffee. "Now, I'm going lie down for a minute to rest my eyes, and then we are going to take that scenic trail around Cosgrove Point."

"Right," Matt snorted.

"We'll see you around dinnertime, Dad," Monroe said.

"Not this time!" Frank said. "This time I've set the alarm on my watch."

"You don't have an alarm on your watch, honey," Janice said as Monroe's dad made himself comfortable on the couch.

"Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit?" Andy said.

"Surprise me," Matt responded.

"Not Trivial Pursuit, guys. You always end up fighting over obscure Civil War trivia and then my coffee table ends up broken," Monroe moaned.

"Wait, that's it?" I asked, as Matt and Andy took their plates to the sink. Janice picked up the dirty cutlery and started loading the dishwater. "That's the sum total of your parents' reaction?"

Monroe shrugged. "Yeah. My dad worked in an ER for thirty years before going into family practice. Mom works in a state run psychiatric hospital. Short of bloodshed, not much you can do will shock them. Also, you may have noticed that my family places a lot of value on an effective insult. In fact, your stock has probably just gone up, as far as they're concerned."

"Then why did you keep telling your brothers to shut up?"

"I didn't want them to embarra.s.s you. I know you don't like talking about the newsletter. I figure today's been uncomfortable enough for you."