Talk Does Not Cook Rice

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The living room lights were still on when I finally made it home around ten thirty. Yes, the coffee shop closed at six. However the last place I wanted to be was home with Mother, so I closed up and sat at the small diner down the street. They had really great apple pie. 

Of course the extra effort didn't matter. She was still awake. Which could only mean one thing. I was in trouble. That was the only reason she stayed up past nine anymore. 

Might as well get it over with. A perfect end to an exhausting, horrible day. 

Well, there was that part in the middle that wasn't so bad. 

I set my keys in the bowl on the oak side table in the foyer. My heels clacking on the dark hardwood floor was definitely going to get me noticed. But it didn't really matter. She was waiting for me. Better not keep her waiting. 

I slowly walked into the dining room and there she sat. Sipping a glass of red wine on our ivory couch. Her eyes lifted to me. "Sit."

"I'll stand, thank you."

Narrowing her dark brown eyes, she gracefully stood and walked toward me, wine glass still in hand. She didn't stop until she was well within my personal bubble. 

And I really should've seen it coming. 

Her free hand cracked across my cheek, whipping my head to the side as pain exploded across my face. I covered my cheek with a hand and stared at her. It wasn't like it was the first time that happened. 

"You're playing a dangerous game, Harper. You know what is expected of you, yet you continue to disobey. The only reason you are still in this house is to keep appearances. I don't want you here, but while you are, you will not embarrass me like that again."

I remained quiet. It wouldn't really matter what I said. 

"Don't worry, dear. You won't be here for much longer." Before I could utter a word, she walked out. 

What was that supposed to mean? 

I pondered her words all the way up to my bedroom. Every time I remembered them I couldn't help the unease that came over me. I didn't think my mother would murder me. Didn't mean she wouldn't throw around her money to have me disappear. 

Not for the first time, I couldn't help but wonder what I ever did to that woman. But it was useless to speculate. With her it could be anything. 

My phone beeped as I came back from the bathroom, all changed into my cami and Wonder Woman pajama pants. I picked the phone up to check. A text message. From a phone number I didn't recognize. 

Stranger: Promise I'm not stalking you. Much. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. 

Me: Who is this? 

It took them a couple minutes to reply. I was already a bit on edge, and mystery texter was not helping. 

Stranger: I need to up my coffee game if I'm so boring I'm not even remembered. And to think I snorted tot for you. 

…..wha…

How in Matt Smith's eyebrows did he get my number? 

Thane: By the way, I think your mom is a bit angry with you. Might want to steer clear. 

So my mother was the traitor. Shocking…

Me: Well gee thanks for all your words of wisdom NOW! I could have used those, oh I don't know, beforehand.

I tossed my phone on the bed. I couldn't really say why I was angry at him. He did nothing wrong, yet. The fact that my mother gave him my number and he actually checked on me was sweet. I just wasn't in the mood. 

My phone beeped again. I thought about ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of me. 

Thane: A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.

Me: What? 

Thane: If you bow at all, bow low.

Me: … are you having a stroke? 

Thane: A bird does not sing because it has an answer. It sings because it has a song.

Me: -_-

Thane: Talk does not cook rice.

I couldn't help it. I tried. The giggle took over and I was lost.

Me: Stahp! Lol

Thane: You asked for my words of wisdom. I don't want to disappoint milady again. I'm still smelling tot.

Me: Your sarcasm knows no bounds, does it?

Thane: Nope, not really. It just pops out willy nilly.

Me: ….willy nilly? Is this Thane, or his grandmother?

Thane: I will have you know that willy nilly is an amazing phrase that doesn't get the attention it deserves. It is my duty to right that horrible injustice. 

Me: You do you, princess. Just make sure not to miss a stitch when you sew that on your handkerchief. 

Thane: I know you're just jealous. Don't worry, I'll make one for you as well. 

Me: How thoughtful…

Thane: That's me. I think I will put that on your handkerchief also. Just so you don't forget. 

Me: Thane the homemaker. How precious. 

Thane: I'm always precious. But seriously, is everything okay? You seemed really sad at the coffee shop. 

I let out a soft sigh, my free hand rubbing my sore cheek. I'd just met him. There was no way I was whining to him. 

Me: Yeah, I'm fine. Like I said, I just spaced out. Sorry about that. So no need to check up on me. 

It took a few minutes for his response. And then I had to read it a few times, sure I was probably having a stroke because I couldn't possibly be reading it right. 

Thane: Wut u wearin 

I stared at the words. Only two options came to mind to explain this: Thane was the one having the stroke OR this wasn't Thane. 

I was betting on option 2.

Me: … who is this? 

Thane: Me. Wut u

… what? 

Thane: I am so sorry. My stupid brothers got ahold of my phone. 

Well, that explained it. 

Wait…

Brothers? As in plural? 

Me: Brothers? How many do you have? 

Thane: 3. We're quads. And don't worry, I'm the perfect one. The others are complete buffoons. 

I couldn't help the giggle. 

Me: Not sure I believe you. Maybe you're the buffoon trying to persuade me otherwise. 

Thane: …

Thane: I am wounded right in the soul, Harper. Now I'm going to have to fill that wound with chocolate ice cream. 

Me: I would advise against that. You wouldn't want a sticky soul now would you? 

Thane: …

Me: … well? 

Thane: I'm weighing the pros and cons. 

Me: You are adorkable. I'm going to bed. 

Thane: I wish I was. I still have a sinus full of potato. 

Me: Nettie pots work wonders for that sort of thing. 

Thane: You are ruthless. Go to sleep, Tots. 

Me: Tots? 

Thane: Yes. Tots. I must go flush my face holes. Sleep tight. 

But…

Tots? 

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