Don't Talk About Mickey

20 - Eating Crowe

Carly was never a breakfast person, but when her mother woke her up for the first time in ten years to a feast of pancakes and bacon, she didn't have much of a choice. She'd been dousing her flapjacks at the counter with sugar-free syrup when Sebastian had walked in with just his boxers on. She was fully aware that he was doing it to piss her off, especially after what she'd done last night.

But she didn't regret it. Not one bit.

"Good morning," Eliza said sweetly, as she peeked her head over the Sunday morning paper.

He met her with an equally sickening smile that made Carly want to crawl inside of a hole.

"Morning," he said, and then looked at Carly. "Careful."

"What?" She was caught off guard.

He pointed to her plate.

When Carly looked down, she realized she'd been squeezing syrup all over the counter, making a mess that would take more than a paper towel to clean up. Damn Mickey for being half-naked, and damn her mother for not doing anything about it!

She cursed underneath her breath, as she tried to ignore his muffled wicked chuckle.  Sliding her plate out of the mess, Carly grabbed a washcloth and swiped at the sticky substance.   Carly cursed again as the cloth got in the puddle.  She could have sworn the sugar free stuff wasn't supposed to be very sticky, but apparently the syrup didn't know that.

"Here, let me get that for you," a husky voice said as she felt Mickey's heat at her back. 

He took the washcloth from her, his hand making as much contact as possible with hers.  Gooseflesh popped out on Carly's arm, and she moved away from him as though he were on fire.  Snatching her plate, Carly joined her mother at the breakfast table.

"Carly, darling," her mother began awkwardly.  "I'm not sure how to tell you this, but since you've met Sebastian finally I see no reason to wait any longer."

Carly halted the fork halfway to her mouth and held her breath.  She didn't know what her mother was about to tell her, but she was damn sure whatever it was, she didn't want to hear it.

"Before you came home last night, Sebastian and I had a serious conversation." She picked up her coffee mug and took a long, drawn-out sip.

Carly put her fork down and turned to Sebastian who was still working on the puddle of syrup. "About what?"

"Sebastian, could you come sit down, please?" Eliza put down her coffee mug and wiggled her fingers at him.

He threw a look over his shoulder before throwing the wash cloth into the sink. Making his way across the kitchen, he sat in the chair next to Carly, a tactic he probably used so he wouldn't have to look Carly directly in the eyes.

"Carly," Eliza paused and took a deep breath. "Sebastian and I... We're..." Unable to find the right words, she looked at Sebastian, hoping he would be brave enough to dive in.

"What your mother is trying to say," he said almost angrily, "is that we're getting married."

"Next month."

"What?" Carly blared as she rocketed from her chair, her face turning an unflattering, blotchy red. "Don't you think it's a little soon for that?"

"Sweetie," Eliza said worriedly. "It's what I want. Can't you just be happy for me?"

Carly shot her fuming eyes at Mickey. "No," she said, her voice cracking. "Never."

She pushed away from the table, nearly knocking her chair over, and ran out of the kitchen door. The tears began to swell once she was on the front porch, but she wouldn't let them escape. She wouldn't let herself cry over him. He wasn't worth it.