Late to the Party ✔

14. It'll all come out in the wash

She wondered how it was possible for someone so impossible to fit into her life like a lost puzzle piece. Soft peach evening light filtered through the window blinds, dappling Jeanie's damp curls with golden shimmers. She flicked through a magazine Missy had left lying around, something with a pink cover and an abundance of hearts. Occasionally, she'd raise her eyebrow or lift the corner of her lips, clearly amused by the contents.

She was too beautiful. Mary hadn't been able to tear her eyes away from her since she'd breezed into the kitchen smelling like her citrusy shampoo and wearing her coral button-up like it was a run-of-the-mill thing. Due to an administrative mistake, the water company had cut off Uncle Carl's house too early, and Jeanie had taken to showering here. Today, she'd forgotten to bring clean clothes.

Mary couldn't help but think the shirt looked better on Jeanie. She'd left the top buttons undone, exposing soft, freckled skin and the necklace's chain, and the color suited her dark hair. Seeing Jeanie in something of hers sent a tingling up her spine, and she soaked up the image like she wanted it imprinted in her mind.

It'd been a long week. Sheldon still refused to speak. Not a single word. He just nodded yes or shook his head, but he never responded to any of their guesses of what could have happened to strike so much terror into him. They took him to the comic book store. Served him bowl after bowl of homemade tomato soup. Watched a string of Star Trek episodes with him. Jeanie, who had snickered at the television screen at the same times Sheldon managed a weak smile, even attempted a few phrases of broken Klingon. Nothing worked. Finally, George suggested giving the boy some space.

Mary wasn't good at giving things space. Jeanie was well aware and had tried her best to distract her. Little did she know all she had to do to accomplish that was sit still and look pretty.

Only when George barged in through the backdoor with the twins in tow, she realized she'd been drying the same plate for a good five minutes. She tried to look casual, like she hadn't been ogling her oldest friend and ex-something, and turned to her kids.

"Oh, hi, baby," she greeted Sheldon. She plastered on a big smile, hoped that George couldn't detect the flush upon her cheeks.

Sheldon didn't respond. For a moment, it seemed like he would: his gaze focused on his mother's face, some words on the tip of his tongue — then, he scurried off, his arms lined along his skinny body.

They all watched him go, Mary with a deep sigh.

"Can't believe I'm saying this," Missy said, "but I kinda miss him talking our ears off. Hi, Mom." She produced a bright smile, moved in to throw her arms around her mother, hug her briefly. It was something she'd taken to as of late, and Mary still had to swallow down tears each time. "Hi, Jeanie. That shirt looks great on you."

She watched in wonder, her knees unsteady, as Missy settled beside Jeanie, all bubbly recounts and easy laughter. Before she could lose herself in dangerous fantasies that were best kept buried in the back of her mind, she directed herself at her husband.

"Not a word then?" she asked in a low volume.

It felt like ages since they'd stood so close, since she could smell his aftershave and count the grey hairs amidst the brown. He didn't fool her; she'd spent too many dinners sitting across from him, too many mornings waking up next to him. His jokes about enjoying the peace and quiet were merely a cover for his concerns. Sheldon's mutism ate at him.

He shook his head.

She sighed again and moved to finish up the dishes, remnants of a fancy pasta sauce Jeanie had cooked for her. What a pinch of basil and oregano and a piece of Parmesan cheese could do. The dishwasher whirred forcefully, already running: it'd been stocked to the brim when she'd opened it earlier, and she was forced to do the overflow by hand. She picked up the spoons, blushed, and went for the forks instead. That teaspoon had been put to her lips by Jeanie, as part of a completely innocent taste test — not so innocent, in hindsight, considering she couldn't bear to touch it in front of her husband.