Coffin of Hope

Chapter Forty Eight

Mercedes waited for Marceline to be alone before approaching her. She held up a pair of cobalt blue sparkling jeans. "Hi."

Marceline looked up at her.

Mercedes was so hurt. Marceline even had Marcy's why-are-you-talking-to-me? face. "I found these and I thought you'd like them."

Marceline said nothing.

Mercedes tried again. "I think they would go great with a white sweater."

Marceline pouted.

Mercedes could tell she was losing her. "Or just a tee. But not in this weather. You'll get sick."

Marceline's black brows rose as if to say, "You'd care?".

Mercedes chewed on her bottom lip. "Maybe your Tia Marcy will help you find something to go with it?"

Marceline broke out into a wide smile and took the jeans to run off to find her favorite adult.

Mercedes was wickedly jealous and so very hurt. Why hadn't anybody stopped her before it got to this point? Marceline was only four and Mercedes could see she held grudges like an adult.

What was she going to do?"

OF

Mally forced his tongue out of his mouth as he finished painting. "I'm done, Daddy!"

Mal peeked at the large earthen cup. "It looks really... good, son."

Mally beamed as he signed his name with a stick.

Marcus IV frowned. Mally had drawn multiple multi-coloured hearts and stars on his mug while Marcus IV had placed his foot and hand on a plate. "Daddy?"

"Yeah, son?" Marc moved his head so Lucas wouldn't paint his mouth. "Stop, boy!"

Lucas giggled.

Marcus IV glared at his little brother taking their father's attention. "Daddy?"

"Yeah?" Marc yanked the paintbrush away from the one year old, which in turn made him cry. "Come on, L. Stop crying. You can't paint Daddy."

Marcus IV started screaming.

Everyone in the room stared.

"Marcus!" Marc winced, hearing his father's voice. "Stop screaming and just tell me what's wrong."

Marcus IV began crying.

Marc was just so tired. Were they like this with Laura?

Mal picked Marcus IV up and bounced with him some. "It's okay, Nephew. Your daddy's a giant jerk anyway."

Mally stared at his dad incredulously.

Marcus IV laid his head on Mal's shoulder and wrapped his tiny arms around his strong neck. His tears slowed.

Mal rubbed his back soothingly. "Are you tired? Need a nap?"

Noah began screaming.

"Noah!" Mike frowned.

"No!"

"Nobody's trying to make you take a nap!"

Noah pouted. "No."

Mike gave him a look. "You want me to call Mama?"

"Mama?"

"Yeah. Mama."

Noah shook his head fearfully.

Marc frowned at Mal, soothing his (Marc's) son. That was his baby. Was Marcy right? Did the kids not even recognize him?