That Horrible Mouth of Yours

TEN.

My eyes opened to sun streaming in the window, warm on my face. I groaned and pulled on Clement's wrist to check his watch.

7:25 a.m.

Jesus. I rolled over on the bare mattress and pressed a kiss to Clement's chapped lips. Seven hours before, when we had gotten out of the bath, we realized we had no towels or sheets, so we collapsed onto the mattress and fell asleep.

"Hey, sleepyhead, rise and shine," I hummed into his ear. He annoyedly hummed back at me and I made a move to push his naked body off the bed. Even though his eyes were closed, he jolted and grabbed my arms before I could even move.

"Don't even think about it, McMullen."

"McMullen? Don't you mean Marty, your loving and compassionate girlfriend from Arkansas?" He pulled me closer and captured my lips in a big kiss.

"Mmm... Yeah, I guess I do," he murmured against my lips. I smiled into him and we suddenly were all over each other. That's how it always was, we became one cohesive, pulsing, living thing, like we're one big person. Like when I'm not with him, I'm not the whole me. "Hey, come on," he pulled away after I tried to go for another round. "Didn't I say we'd go walk around this morning?"

"Yeah," I pouted.

"Luli, we need sheets, and furniture. We can't stay cooped up here all day."

"I know, I know," I stood up exasperated and looked around for my last clean outfit. "We need to do laundry," I started gathering all of our clothes into the brown paper bag from the grocery and grabbed a handful of change from my backpack. I turned and looked at Clement, still lounging across the bed. "Are you coming? I don't want to pick out everything by myself. This is our apartment."

"Yeah," he rolled off of the bed and pulled his clothes on. "Don't forget breakfast, Martine."

I grabbed an apple from the grocery bag and waved it in his face.

"Wouldn't dream of it, Barry."

We carried the bag of dirty clothes down the street to the laundromat next to the garage. An old man sat behind the counter, reading a magazine and smoking.

"Hey, folks. How ya doing?" He smiled at us and adjusted his glasses. "Say, are the two of you new to town? Haven't seen ya before."

"Yessir. I'm Barry and this is my girlfriend, Marty," Clement walks over to the old man and shakes his hand. I wave from my position behind a washing machine.

"I'm James, but most people call me Big Jimmy. I've owned this laundromat for forty years, and my daddy owned it before me. Of course, we've updated our appliances," he chuckles and points at the automatic washers. "But some people would rather wash their clothes by hand, so if you're ever in the mood, we have tubs and hand wringers out back."

"Well, thanks, Mr. Jimmy, lovely to meet you, but I have a few more things to do, so we'll be back in half an hour or so," I grab Clement's hand and we walk out into the day lit street. "Is there a secondhand shop around here?" I ask a woman walking past with her two children.

"Yes dear," she points up the road a bit. Her little girl, probably no more than two, reached out and grabbed onto a chunk of my hair. "Mary! Let go!" The woman scolded.

"It's fine, really," I laughed and unlatched the girls hand from my hair. She pulled against her mother and tried again to grab at me, so I took my finger and pushed against her hand. She started laughing and I looked to her mother. "Thank you. Bye bye, Mary," I waved at the little girl. Her mother turned and started to walk away. My heart started to ache. I've always liked children, and felt a strong need to take care of them, unlike how my mother took care of me, how she never got the chance to take care of my blue baby brother. I shook it off and turned back toward the thrift shop. "Let's go, Barry."
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