Page 117 of Rock Bottom Girl

He didn’t realize how real he was making us sound, I told myself.

“You know I’m not an expert on relationships, right? Obviously, none of mine have worked out,” I reminded him.

“You’re more experienced than I am.”

“Meet the parents. Got it. Anything else?”

“Okay. What about gift-giving?” he said, pausing the show on Ron Swanson’s frowning, mustachioed face.

“Gift-giving?”

“Yeah, like how do I know what to buy you and when? What’s the budget for birthdays and holidays? How does being a couple at Christmas work? Do I buy your family presents?”

“Uh. Those are valid and very specific questions. And that’s all going to depend on the relationship. For instance, you and your girlfriend might decide that she buys for her family and you buy for yours. The main thing to remember is it’s important to talk about things like that in advance. You don’t want to go all out and buy her diamond stud earrings for Valentine’s Day when she just gives you a coupon book for massages and hugs.”

“It all comes back to communication, doesn’t it?” Jake asked with a yawn. His fingers stroked my arm under the sleeve, leaving the skin deliciously sensitive.

“Pretty much. Yeah.”

He was quiet for a minute. The silence was punctuated by Homer’s nasally snores and the beat of his tail as he dreamed good dreams.

“Why are you leaving, Marley?” Jake asked.

I blinked and shifted to look at him.

“Because I don’t belong here. I want something bigger. Something more than Culpepper can offer.”

“Do you like teaching? Coaching?” he asked.

I thought about it. About the wins. The makeover. The girls. Most of the rest of the students. Floyd. Vicky. Haruko. Jake. “Yeah. I do,” I decided. “But it’s not the plan.”

“And there’s no way this could, I don’t know, end up being what you want?” he asked.

I snorted. Find what I’ve been looking for in Culpepper? The place I couldn’t wait to leave as soon as that diploma was in my hot, little hand? “Trust me. Culpepper and I are better off apart,” I told him. “Why do you ask?”

I wanted it to be because he liked me. Because he’d miss me if I were gone. But he’d replaced me once. What were the odds that he wouldn’t do it again?

He gave a shrug. “No reason.”

He hit the play button, and we turned our attention back to Leslie and Ron.

50

Jake

Iwoke from the best night of sleep of my life to an empty bed. My bliss instantly evaporated, and I bolted from my cocoon. She’d been here. She’d gone to bed with me. We’d argued good-naturedly about the quality of my linens and pillows. To be fair, she had a point. I was nearing forty with a good job, and these cheap-ass sheets were rough enough to exfoliate.

It was time to upgrade.

Uncle Lewis was going to fucking love Marley if her influence got me into a store with sheets and curtains and shit.

I heard a clunk from downstairs and a short bark followed by a laugh.

She was here.

I dragged my sweats on and noticed, possibly for the first time, the giant mound of laundry in the corner on the floor. Maybe it was time I did a little growing up elsewhere, too.

I found a laundry basket in the closet and filled it to the brim. Whatever didn’t fit I threw back into the closet and closed the door. I’d deal with that later.