Chapter 23 Lucy
TWENTY-THREE
Lucy
“You have everything you need, Grandma?” Miles asks as we follow her back down the hall after putting the bed together.
“Oh, yes, honey. I think I might get ready for bed, then go make myself a cup of tea to wind down. You know me; I’m a late-nighter. Don’t let me keep you two up,” she says with a wink.
I smile at her. “I have a box of vanilla tea in the cupboard, and it’s caffeine-free, if you want to try that. It’s my new favorite.”
“Oh, thank you. You’re so sweet.” She pats my shoulder and then stands there, staring at us.
I wish she would go to her room so that I can talk with Miles. I need to figure out where I’m supposed to sleep if she is sleeping in my room.
Because after that little pillow fight? I’m a little afraid I’m overly attracted to my husband.
She sighs as she looks at us. “I wish I had been there for your wedding…but I’m also so glad you have each other. Miles, you really picked a sweetheart.”
My heart lurches in my chest. I don’t know if it’s her kindness or my guilt causing it.
Miles grabs my hand and pulls me after him, toward his bedroom door.
My feet start dragging as we approach. There’s something very final about walking through that bedroom door. I’ve never seen inside it. And if I walk in there, our marriage is going to feel a lot more real.
Miles tugs me steadily toward it, pauses to open it, and then places a hand on my lower back, ushering me inside.
Miles keeps pushing until he can close the door behind me.
I stand rooted where I am, and he lets go of my hand.
“I’m going to take a shower if you want to jump in with me,” he says loudly.
My eyes bulge, and I make a little gurgling sound.
Miles laughs and points at the door behind me. Mouthing the word, Grandma.
I relax and nod. I’m sure my face is flushing a bright red tomato color.
“Sure! Warm up the water, and I’ll be right there,” I reply as loudly as I can. But my voice is cracking, so I don’t know if it was even loud enough to carry through the door.
Miles is enjoying this way too much; his shoulders are shaking as he tries to laugh quietly.
Watching him laugh uncontrollably helps me get over my embarrassment, and I walk over to poke him in the shoulder. Our relationship has taken a physical turn tonight. “On second thought, I’ll start the shower since you like it so cold. I can’t trust you.”
He’s still laughing, so I give him one more good poke before I walk to the bathroom. I swing open the door and step inside. I freeze when I spot the pile of dirty clothes on the floor. And then the counter with a couple of different water bottles, deodorant, toothpaste, and just… clutter.
“Wait, don’t go in there yet!” he says from behind me.
One hand lands on my shoulder, and he tries to pull me out of the bathroom. His other hand covers my eyes, and I stumble backward against his chest.
I flail my arms, but he holds tight, dragging me backward.
“Let me fix the bathroom real quick.” He tries to release me and sneak into the bathroom, but I grasp the back of his shirt and hang on tight as he walks through the door.
“Lucy!” he exclaims.
“Miles!” I say back with a laugh, and I duck under his arm and hurry to stand in front of the shower. I look down at my feet. I’m standing on a pair of athletic shorts.
Mr. Never Leave a Dirty Dish is a secret slob. Mr. Give Me a Hard Time About My Messy Room is secretly as bad as me.
I grin at him as he groans.
“I’m onto you.”
He grimaces. “I forgot the bathroom looked like this.”
“Oh, I don’t know. I think I like it.”
“What?!”
“Yeah, I definitely do.”
Miles eyes me suspiciously. “And why is that?”
I study the bathroom counter and spy a box of granola bars next to the water bottles. “Because I was beginning to think you had everything figured out and that you were perfect. I think I like this version of you better.”
His lips twitch as they turn upward. “You can’t be serious…”
“Of course I am!” I point at the floor. “Look, you leave your underwear on the floor too! This makes me happy.”
He leaps forward and snatches up the briefs as though he’s embarrassed about them.
“Were those Spider-Man underwear?” I tease as he tosses the red underwear into the basket sitting in the corner.
Miles narrows his eyes at me. “Careful, Lucy. If you’re gonna dish it out, you’d better be ready to take it.”
My smile is growing so much that it’s hurting my cheeks. “You realize that most people are not perfect, right? That many of us do leave our clothes on the floor after a shower.”
“Yeah, but it’s not exactly a great indicator of working hard, is it?”
I roll my eyes. “Who cares? Wash the clothes when you’re able to get to it.
This isn’t a health-hazard bathroom. The floor is clean under these clothes.
The sink and counters are clean. Besides, this looks like as many clothes as I would toss out in a single day.
So, it’s not like they’ve been sitting here for fourteen weeks.
” I shrug but then realize this really does embarrass Miles.
This is his dirty secret? That he doesn’t keep everything perfectly clean?
I shake my head. “Miles, this is what normal people do. Not Willa, but I’ve never thought my sister was entirely normal. ”
Miles grins at that.
“Watch this.” I bend down and scoop up the clothes, tossing them into the dirty basket, and then I open the drawer and sweep the bottles of soap and deodorant into it. I line up the water bottles and granola bars.
“Ta-da! You’re not a Messy Marvin if you can pick it up in thirty seconds.”
“Why are you being so nice?”
I plant a hand on my hip and stare at him. “I don’t know if you’ve realized this or not…but I’m a nice person.”
Miles smirks at that. “You know what I mean.”
“What did you think I was going to say? Honestly? Miles, you do realize this is no big deal. Some people live in houses.”
Miles shakes his head slowly. “I think it’s because I had it ingrained in me that I needed to have it all together. The early mornings, the clean living space, exercise, business…”
“Do you mean your parents?”
“No, not so much them as most people in the business world. Professors, guides, friends. My mentor.”
“Listen, not to disparage all those people’s advice, but I hope you realize you don’t always have to have everything together. You don’t have to do it all.”
Miles looks so surprised by that. “But doesn’t that mean I’m more of a failure?”
I laugh. “There’s no life scale on who’s failing or not. There’s not some prize out there for meeting a stranger’s standard of ‘put together’.”
He stares at me for a minute. “How did you get so smart?”
“I grew up with a mother who demanded perfection. I learned that perfection’s an illusion that’s different in each person’s mind. And if we live our lives trying to meet other people’s standards of perfection? We will never be happy.”
Miles steps slowly toward me and pulls me into a hug. “You’re very wise for someone so small.”
“I’m beginning to think you’re a size-ist,” I mumble against his chest. Although I’m starting to gain an appreciation for his big frame and the way he can envelop me completely in a hug. It’s nice.
Very nice. And he smells good. And this is different because we’re not wrestling or being silly. He’s hugging me because we’re both recovering perfectionists.
Who are about to share a bed.