Chapter 25 Marsh
Marsh
Lucy’s sound asleep, the side of her face peacefully planted on her pillowcase. I try to take a mental snapshot, though it cracks my heart a little bit. Because I don’t know if this is a memory that I want to stay in my subconscious. Perhaps it will be too painful.
We can’t be anything more than what we currently are.
Lucy doesn’t want a relationship—a sentiment I’ve been telling myself multiple times a day.
Being the logical, burned man that I am, I don’t want one either.
I’ve been in love…whatever that even meant.
And it ruined me. That relationship turned me into someone I didn’t want to be.
I was someone who valued their career more than the person in front of them.
I was someone who took things for granted and continued to chase the unattainable.
It bent me and it broke me. Not after, but while I was in it.
If Lucy were to ever trust someone enough to open her heart to them, it shouldn’t be me.
So, I’ll take what I can get and go through the motions. No strings attached.
I reach for my glasses on the nightstand and then better observe Lucy’s room now that it’s light outside.
The cream-colored walls, the thoughtfully curated display of framed artwork above her desk in the corner of the room.
There’s a photo of her at age seven or eight sitting at the kitchen table reading a copy of Junie B.
Jones. It hurts that the young, bright-eyed girl in the photo turned into the cautious woman Lucy is today.
I sit up and see that Lucy’s unfazed by the movement. She must be more tired than I thought. I stretch then grab my sweatpants hanging off the side of the chair and put on a T-shirt. Carefully, I close the bedroom door behind me, assuring I don’t wake her up.
When I turn in to the living room, I stop dead in my tracks.
Sitting on the couch with an iPad is an older man in what I assume is his sixties. In the kitchen mixing something into a bowl is a woman around the same age. They both look up at me, dumbstruck.
I think we’re probably all staring at one another for about eight seconds until any of us even move.
It doesn’t take long for me to realize that these two are probably Lucy’s parents…
Otherwise this would be the strangest burglary ever reported.
I clock two pieces of luggage by the door and am shocked I didn’t wake up sooner or hear them come in.
“Uh,” I manage to say, “hello.”
“Hello.” The woman’s face breaks out into a grin that makes me feel like she’s oddly excited to see me come out of Lucy’s bedroom. Meanwhile, the man doesn’t say a thing.
I take my hand off the doorknob and walk toward her. “I’m Marshall.” I shake the woman’s hand and realize she has a whole setup of pans and ingredients by the stove.
“Hi, Marshall,” she says. “I’m Selena. Lucy’s mom. This is Jonathan, Lucy’s dad.”
These are the people who made Lucy the way she is. Literally and figuratively. I look over to the couch and Jonathan just takes a sip from his mug. If I squint, I catch the faintest nod.
“Very nice to meet you both,” I say. I have no idea if Lucy’s ever mentioned me or what I’m supposed to do in this situation.
“Lucy’s still…asleep,” I say slowly because I’m afraid it’s very clear that Lucy and I didn’t fall asleep last night playing board games.
And based on how her father is staring at me, I think we’re all thinking of just what exactly we did do.
“That’s okay.” Selena waves a hand. “She always sleeps in. Sit down, I’m making breakfast.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that—”
“Sit, Marshall,” she says again, and I do as I’m told.
There’s a youthful energy to Selena. She’s beautiful, and unlike Lucy’s head of long dark hair, she has a short blond bob that I’m assuming is dyed but that is well maintained. Jonathan is someone who’s bald with a thick gray beard.
“Have you ever had longanisa?” Selena asks, and I shake my head at the unfamiliar word. “It’s a Filipino sausage. It’s good with rice and eggs. You’ll love it.”
Well, that sounds delicious.
“I’m sorry I didn’t have anything prepared,” I say. “I don’t think Lucy mentioned you were coming over this morning.”
“We didn’t tell her,” Selena says, flipping an egg. “We just came back from a cruise this morning and wanted to say hi.”
I glance at the clock on the stove and realize it’s almost eleven a.m. I guess it makes sense that Lucy and I slept in; we probably didn’t fall asleep until close to two in the morning.
“How was your cruise?” I ask and look over at Jonathan, who has decided that he’s not engaged at all in this conversation and has now started looking at something on his iPad.
“It was so nice!” Selena says. “We went to Hawaii. The weather was beautiful, and have you ever had their fruit from there? It was so fresh!”
“I went in college. It was one of the best trips I’ve been on,” I say, recalling one of the few vacations I’ve taken in my lifetime. “Did you do all the major islands?”
“Oh yes!” Selena says enthusiastically. “Maui was our favorite.”
“Maui is beautiful,” I agree. “How long were you there for?”
“Two weeks,” she answers and tosses around some sausage, which smells like a mix of sweet and garlicky.
“That’s a good amount of time.” I then walk over to the coffee pot and pour myself a cup. “I’m glad you had fun.”
“So, Marshall.” Selena says my name in a way that feels like she’s already welcomed me into her family. Like we’re in on a little secret together. “What do you do?”
I take a sip of the hot, black liquid, hoping that it wakes me up enough to give a good impression. “I’m a news writer.”
“Oh wow!” Selena turns away from the stove to face me. “Do you work with Lucy?”
“Kind of,” I say. “I write for The Journal.”
“Wooow,” Selena says, looking at Jonathan, but his eyes are still glued to his iPad. I’m positive we’re only white noise to him. “How long have you worked at The Journal?”
“About a month,” I say, realizing how short it’s been. “I used to work freelance for different publications.”
“I keep telling Lucy that she should freelance!” Selena says. “Isn’t it better money that way?”
“Uh, not always. It just depends how consistent the work is,” I say. “But Lucy has it great at The Rue. Have you been reading her column lately?” I ask, wondering if she’s aware of Lucy’s new “relationship.”
Selena waves a hand dismissively. “Oh no, Lucy doesn’t want us to read anything.”
“It’s all bullshit anyway,” Jonathan says under his breath, but loud enough that it causes me to turn my head to him. I want to ask him what he means, but Selena continues talking.
“She’s always so secretive about what she writes. She says, Mom, you wouldn’t understand. So, I just leave it.” Selena throws her hands up.
“Well, she’s a very talented writer,” I offer, intending it more for her dad than her mom. “She writes about these really cutting-edge topics.”
Jonathan just lets out a scoff.
“Anyway,” Selena says, passing me a plate of rice, longanisa, and two fried eggs, “how come Lucy didn’t tell us about you?”
“Thank you.” I graciously accept the plate. “Aren’t you two eating?”
“Jonathan will eat. Don’t worry about me.” Selena plops a ketchup bottle in front of me. “So, why didn’t Lucy tell us about you?”
“Um”—I start cutting a piece of sausage—“I think that maybe she wanted to wait until the right time?” I tread lightly, really hoping that my answers are vague but enough to satisfy Selena’s inquiries.
“We’ve never met anyone that Lucy’s dated,” Selena says, walking Jonathan’s plate to the couch.
I look up. “Really?”
“Never.” Selena says. “You know how Lucy is.”
Then, like a tornado, Lucy swings open her bedroom door and she barrels out. Her hair is a mess, she’s still in her pajamas, and it’s very clear she’s not even fully awake.
“Mom?!” she cries out in a panic.
“Morning, honey!” Selena beams.
“Dad?” Lucy runs out and is staring at the three of us, jaw dropped. “What are you doing here?”
“We just landed and wanted to say hi!” Selena walks over and gives her a hug. Lucy’s body is limp, and she stares at me in horror.
“W-why didn’t you tell me you were coming?” Lucy pulls back and her eyes dart back and forth between Selena and Jonathan.
“We wanted to surprise you.” Selena walks back to the kitchen and prepares Lucy a plate.
“I gave you a key for emergencies,” Lucy practically shouts. “You can’t just show up whenever! Jesus, Mom!”
“She’s so dramatic.” Selena looks at me wide-eyed like we’re in on some inside joke.
“I’m so sorry.” Lucy walks toward me, looking devastated.
“It’s okay,” I assure her. “Really. Your mom has been so kind and made me breakfast. We were chatting. It’s great. She’s great.”
“Marshall was telling us about how he’s a news writer.” Selena gives Lucy a plate and she slumps into the chair next to me, accepting defeat.
“Oh yeah?” She looks at me. “What else did you talk about?” she says, although it comes out more threatening than curious.
“Lucy, why didn’t you tell us about Marshall!” Selena says. “He’s so handsome, and tall, and smart.”
“How do you know he’s smart?” Lucy frowns, clearly annoyed at everything happening.
“Because he’s a news writer!” Selena says, and they’re fully having a conversation about me as if I’m not here. “You have to be smart to be a news writer.”
Lucy rolls her eyes. She then stands up to pour herself a cup of coffee. “Dad”—she raises her voice a little to get her father’s attention—“how was the cruise?”
“It was fine,” he says, still locked on his iPad.
I take a bite of the longanisa, and just as I predicted it’s a unique mix of sweet and savory. “Wow, Selena, this is delicious,” I say.
Selena raises her eyebrows at Lucy, impressed. “And he likes Filipino food.”
“Oh my god,” Lucy says under her breath.
“Marshall.” Selena’s attention switches to me. “We went on the Jurassic Park tour! Have you ever been?”
“I haven’t actually,” I reply, “but I’ve always wanted to.”