“Barry,” my mom said, “Lexi doesn’t like when—”
“It’s fine,” I said loudly.
“Okay, I’m calling you Squeaky Mouse then,” Grayson whispered.
“Are you able to talk? Did we call at a bad time?” my mother asked in concern. “I thought you would be off of work now.”
“It’s always a good time,” I said in a strained voice as Grayson picked my underwear off the floor.
Do you want these?he mouthed.
“Just a second.” I held the phone to my chest and hissed, “Yes I want those. Underwear doesn’t grow on trees.”
He bent down and crept over to stuff the panties in my purse while I tried to furiously concentrate on what my parents were saying.
“That sounds interesting,” I said, hoping that made it sound like I was paying attention.
“I know, can you believe it? At her age,” my mother said.
“I can believe it,” my dad said. “Your aunt Kathy is a lunatic.”
“That’s not very nice.” My mom swatted him lightly in the stomach.
“Kathy’s not very nice,” my dad said in a dead-on Mickey Mouse impression. Up popped a hand puppet.
“You know, I feel so bad for Aunt Kathy, I really do. We will make sure to keep her in our prayers, won’t we, Lexi?”
Grayson was now leaning on the edge of the bed where we had just—ahem. To be more accurate, where I had justahem. While I looked like I had been hit by a truck, Grayson looked crisp and fresh, like he’s just walked into the office.
What the fuck?he mouthed to me.
I grimaced.
“She’s too old for hand puppets,” my mom scolded my dad.
“You can never be too old for hand puppets,” my dad argued in Goofy’s voice. Once a character actor, always a character actor.
“We’d better let you go,” my mom said. “It looks like you’re busy house-sitting.”
“I’m actually hanging out here with my boss. We’re having a movie night and decorating party to try to find furniture for her new place. She wants my help since she’s so indecisive,” I lied to my parents. “And she’s so busy.”
You’re not staying here, Grayson mouthed to me.
“You have such a wonderful boss. I’m so glad you’re in a supportive environment,” my mother gushed to me.
“Let me see that billion-dollar view,” Dad begged. “Isn’t that something, Cindy? You can see clear through to the Atlantic Ocean.”
I shooed Grayson away as I swung the phone around to take my dad to the private upstairs terrace, because Grayson was special and had multiple terraces, to show him the view.
Grayson dove to the floor.
“What happened to your hair?” my mom cried.
I felt the tuft of hair on the side of my head.
“Got gum in it. My own fault,” I said.
“Lexi, your poor baby hair.” My mom made a sad face.
