He holds up his cup of coffee. “Nothing excites me before coffee.”
Nodding, I smile at Ellie. We all sip in silence until our cups are empty.
After a few moments, Malcolm sets his cup down and looks at Ellie. “There, now you can ask.”
“Umm . . . are you excited about the Halloween party?” She recoils with her own question.
“No.”
“What do you mean you aren’t excited?” Kate yells in our general direction. She had come into the break room mid-conversation and was now stomping towards Malcolm. I leave the table to avoid the ambush that is little Kate Stanley. She is a fireball.
“I’m not going to a party unless it's to celebrate someone retiring or dying.”
“Celebrate someone dying?” Kate asks in horror.
“We don’tcelebratesomeone dying,” I say over my shoulder.
“I said what I said.”
“You have to come! All of us do! This is the first party I’m getting to throw with Ellie and I need it to be perfect.”
Ellie was blushing, definitely not enjoying being the center of attention.
“Nah, I’m good.” Malcolm starts to pour another cup.
“Just come for an hour. Eat thefreefood, drink, and be merry!”
“Merry is for Christmas,” Malcolm grumbles.
“You know what I mean! This has to be great, and it will be a success if you come, Malcolm! Please, please, please.” Kate is clasping her hands in front of her chest, begging.
“No.”
“Please.”
“Nope.”
Kate stares at Malcolm for a while, then sits down with quivering lips and lets out a deep, shaky breath with force.
Here we go.
“Don’t do that.” Malcolm’s eyes were pinned on Kate.
“Do what?” Her voice cracked as she blinked her sad eyes at him.
“Don’t cry.” He leans back in his chair with a pained look across his face, bracing for impact.
She blinks again. “I’m not going to cry.”
She started crying.
“Dammit, Stanley. Fine, I’ll go. Just don’t cry, stop that right now,” he says, pointing his finger at her. Kate grabs it and starts shaking it like it was his hand.
“Perfect.” She was smiling ear to ear, tears miraculously evaporating as she kept shaking his finger. “This is binding in the school of Glendale.”
“You little punk.”
Malcolm hated to see a lady cry, and he hated even more to seehisladies cry. He would deny it, but he loves this faculty and would fall on a sword for any of us. As much as he tries to convince us he is just a stubborn, old, grandpa inside—underneath that grumpy facade, and fishing shirt, was a big heart for his Glendale family.
