Mary and Halley (sequel to When Mary Met Halley)

seventeen

Leif walked in the next morning at nine just as Halley and I were about to leave for her appointment. He tried to hide the bruise on his cheek but failed because his sister was making toast and noticed right off. 

"God, what is it with the boys in this family being unable to go like a day without getting hurt!" Char exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "For fuck's sake." Not that she meant it was Nate's fault, we knew. 

"I think you mean men," he said smoothly, reaching around her for the orange juice carton. 

"I said what I said," she retorted, thin-lipped as she buttered her bread. "What happened to you?"

He poured juice into an old collectible McDonald's glass. "I was just doing my job, I'll have you know," he said haughtily. "Had to throw some guy out last night, which he protested vehemently, as is evidenced by my poor beautiful face." He patted the colorful skin gingerly. "Luckily it didn't deter any of my conquests."

"You know being promiscuous makes you kind of a bad role model," Char offered, taking her plate to the table. 

"There's nothing wrong with responsibly having more than one partner, if everyone's in agreement, as you well know. And I happen to be only seeing one person right now, not that it's any of your business, sister of mine." He drained the glass and filled it halfway again. "Rude."

"You just said 'conquests' with an 's'," she pointed out, and bit into her toast. Joey and Nate were still asleep but she had to work. 

"Semantics," he said breezily, rolling his eyes. Maybe that was where Joey got it.

"We'll be back," I said, getting my purse and travel cup of coffee. We hadn't slept well, plagued with bad dream, and were anxious to get this over with.

"Where are you guys going?" Leif looked closer at me as he peeled a banana. "Why so serious?"

"Just an appointment," I said, opening the door. 

"What kind of appointment?" he pressed.

I shut him up with a look. "Speaking of minding your own business," I said, and moved so Halley could go out.

"Well! I never." He made a face. "So glad to be home," he grumbled. "And thanks for all the love. 'Did you have a good night at work, Leif? Do you need ice for your poor lovely eye, darling?' Nothing." He shook his head. "Again, rude."

"Annie Hay!" Hank hollered from the swing, where Gwen was pushing him. She was going to watch him while we were gone. We paid her well, though of course she would have done it for nothing.

For a second all I could see was him falling forward and smashing into the ground, then blood all over. "Could you guys not use the swing while we're gone?" I asked, knowing it was dumb, but paranoid about it.

Gwen was a little puzzled but obligingly pulled him out, carefully. "He's hungry, anyway."

"Thanks, sorry. We'll be back soon," I told them. 

"Wan' go wif," Hank told us emphatically, reaching his chubby little arms out. "Pit' Hank up, Annie Hay. Yeah, dit Hank!" he suggested emphatically in his high pitched munchkin voice. "Baby 'chark? Yeah! Phone?" He had recently discovered the addictive video.

She moved to take him, hugging and bouncing him a little. "I have to go to an appointment but you can play with Gwen and I won't be gone long. We can watch baby shark then."

"Yeah! Hank go," he told her, patting her cheek. "Go wif Annie Hay." He pointed at the minivan. "In da van. In da car f'eat," he enunciated carefully so there as no misunderstanding what he desired.