Chapter 23
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Sisters can kiss my koala crunch.
Maelin
“What happened to we’re taking things slow ?” Morana asks, further ruining my whole day. She already said I couldn’t go mad with power just because I have more money than I have ever had in my life.
Apparently, going mad with power according to her means buying one of everything in the candy aisle at SunMart, Sunset’s singular atmospheric grocery store. With the earth-tone decorations and the warm lighting in this place, it screams Whole Foods . Thankfully, the selection maintains a Whole Foods air with prices falling somewhere between Kroger and Walmart .
Putting a box of organic cereal in the cart, I murmur, “What’s not slow about what I’ve said?”
Morana, bane of my existence, swaps the organic, name brand cereal out for generic.
I can only assume she wishes death by preservatives upon me.
“You just said,” she begins, halting the cart beside the cereal I want (but can’t have), “ I think I’m probably going to marry Zakery someday. ”
“Yes.” I grab my cereal again. “ Someday. That could be many, many snail-slow ages from now.” Or. Next week. I just need to get us on a round trip to Mom and Dad and hope they both gave me my winsome optimism while Morana discovered her grinchy attitude all by herself.
Morana arches a very grinchy brow at me. “Why are we going to spend seven dollars on a small box of cereal all of a sudden, Mae?”
“Because.” I point at my box. “There is a koala on this one.” I point at the inferior box in our cart. “And not a single marsupial on that one.” Not even America’s greatest—and only—possum.
“Get your future husband to draw a koala on the cheaper box then.”
I scoff, gawk, gag.
“If you do not quit making a scene, I will send you out to sit in the car.”
My little sister hates me. I put my koala back on the shelf and pout. “You don’t understand, Mora… He was up all night yesterday putting together this form that outlined just about anything you can think of that might become pertinent in a relationship. He printed a copy for me. Filled it out himself. Then we exchanged and went over one another’s answers. He’s sincere. Committed. Serious in ways I’ve only ever dreamed of. You know how badly I’ve wanted to get married. Harry made me beg and plead to take our relationship to the next level, then he proposed without a ring—probably just to see if it would get me to sleep with him—then he stalled on making anything real. With Zakery, I haven’t had to ask. With Zakery, I haven’t had to say no and give him the that’s a wifey thing ultimatum.” I’m practically twirling in a dress I made yesterday because Zakery said he wanted to paint me while I was working after we woke up. I gasp, grip the cart, halt Morana in her tracks, and ignore the death glare she gives me. “That’s right. We took a nap together yesterday, Mora. I practically climbed on top of him. He cuddled me. Woke me with a dappling of forehead kisses, and kept. his. hands. to. himself. ” I’m certain my eyes are glittering. “I was not molested yesterday in my attempt to obtain affection. That’s the Zakery difference.”
Morana’s glare softens, fading into sympathy. “I’m so sorry the bar is that low, Mae. I’m so sorry I didn’t see it sooner.”
My heart sinks as I remove my hands from the cart. “It’s not your fault. I protected him.”
“I know you did. And you did a great job. I don’t want you to fall hard into that pattern again.”
“I’m not holding anything back this time. I promise. He let me keep his answers to the form he made if you want to go through them, too? Just in case I’ve missed any red flags.”
Morana nods as she turns down the next aisle. “I would like to do that, yep.” She peers at the brownie, cake, and muffin mixes.
I want to slip my arm behind the first layer of mixes and knock one of each in the entire row into the cart.
Certain that Morana will not appreciate that, though, I lock my fingers behind me and fiddle with the bow of my sash.
“ One ,” she says.
“Two?” I counter.
She huffs a sigh.
I get two.
“It’s just so nice, you know?” I say.
“What? The fact we can afford both banana nut muffins and double fudge brownies in the same grocery trip?”
Well, I mean. Yes . But also. “Knowing the person I like cares about me just as much.”
“It’s been a matter of weeks, Mae. You have to keep love bombing in mind. Not even Harry was a complete menace to you those first few months you were together.”
It’s true. But there were still some signs with him that I didn’t see until after we broke up. Even when he wasn’t horrible, he was still self-centered in ways that left no room for me. Sure, the wolfkin moment was a sudden downward shift, but if he’d made the same form Zakery had, he wouldn’t have filled it out. He would have graded me. He would have left off every question about my dreams and aspirations and how he could seek to support me in them.
Yet I would have been moonstruck all the same, obsessing over the fact he’d put effort into wanting to take our relationship seriously at all.
I’m definitely honeymooning with Zakery, but I at least hope I’m not being completely oblivious this time or sweeping anything that niggles at me under the rug. After all, I’m not coming into this relationship believing that I’m in love with him.
Am I somewhat enchanted?
Yes.
But with Harry, superficial things enamored me. I thought he was attractive. I liked the way he carried himself with a confidence bridging on arrogance. He was sure of himself, and I convinced myself that it made me feel safe. With Zakery…the biggest thing is his kindness. Which is saying something, because the man is twenty thousand times prettier and more confident than Harry.
“Is there something you aren’t telling me that makes you uncomfortable where Zakery is concerned?” I ask.
Morana shrugs, reaching for real maple syrup. Not pure high fructose corn syrup. “No. I like the whole family. Except Kyran. Who needs to freaking use his fricken hamper.” She’s half smiling when she looks at the price. “Kaleb is amazing.”
“Do you like Kaleb?”
“Not my type. But since he’s handled my training most directly, I consider him to be my main boss and I interact with him more than everyone…second only to Kyran. After Helena, I just really, really appreciate how…what’s the word?” Her brow furrows. She puts the maple syrup back. “ Sane? Yeah. Sane. I appreciate how sane my new main boss is.”
“Mora. Please.”
“What?” Her fingers have latched around the pathetic bottle of fakeness.
I present the elite, glass , beautiful bottle of maple syrup. “Please.”
“That’s eight dollars. This is three.”
“What price would you put on your big sister’s joy?”
Morana scans me. “Dollar.”
My heart, it weeps. And the sorrow must reflect on my face because Morana deflates, puts the fake sugar back in favor of the good stuff, and mutters, “If I don’t like this better and my pancake breakfasts are ruined, I’m dropping you off at a thrift store.”
“Refine your taste buds. Once Zakery and I are married, you’ll be living in the lap of luxury.”
“We already live in the lap of luxury, Mae. This —” She references the dark hardwood and umber ceilings. “—is where we shop. There are flower beds and hanging peonies up and down every street. Town-wide no smoking rules. This is luxury. And you know what luxury offers?” She grabs the sad bottle. “Plain old corn syrup. Made from corn. Good old corn.”
Good old corn.
“What about good old koalas?” I ask.
Throwing her head back, Morana groans. “ Fine . Get your stupid koala cereal. But if you don’t like it, you still have to eat it. All of it. By yourself.”
Oh no. I’ll have to eat my organic chocolate cereal without any help. How will I ever survive?
Grinning, I go back and retrieve my poor neglected marsupial.