I took a bite of the calzone and smiled. “You’re right, Birdie. Just don’t ever eat food around here if Marley made it.”
“No,” everyone agreed in unison.
“Throw it in the trash and back away slowly,” King advised.
“I don’t think I’ve met Marley yet,” Birdie replied
“She’s amazing as a human, but when it comes to cooking or baking, not good at all.” Meg sighed. “I can’t tell you how many times I have tried to teach her to cook over the years, and it just doesn’t stick.”
“It’s amazing that Troy hasn’t wasted away the past twenty-odd years,” Dad laughed.
“That’s because Meg snuck over food when Pie and Luna were kids,” I chuckled.
“Troy also had a stash of food hidden that he would feed the kids on nights when Marley made dinner,” Mom confessed.
“She’s really that bad of a cook?” Birdie asked. “I mean, I get there are people who can’t cook a four-course meal, but she wouldn’t like to make a grilled cheese sandwich or something?”
Meg tsked. “She could do that if that was all she wanted to do. She thinks she needs to jazz up the simplest meals which makes them not good.”
“Spam and spinach added to grilled cheese,” I groaned. “I remember that one vividly because I was over there playing video games with Pie when she brought out this plate of sandwiches that looked good on the outside, but inside was green sludge and canned meat.” Not good at all. That was when I learned to only go over to Pie’s when Marley wasn’t home or in between meals.
“Oh,” Birdie laughed. “I can see how that wouldn’t be very good.”
“Not good at all,” Dad agreed.
“I’m going in there whether you like it or not!” a loud voice yelled from the hallway.
“Oh no,” Meg gasped.
“No fucking way,” King groaned.
“I told you they were going to come running. You managed to hold them off when you had your stroke, but Easy is like their grandkid,” Gambler laughed.
“Gravel?” I asked.
I heard the door swing open and bang against the wall.
“Oh, my baby!”
And Ethel.
“Mom, Gravel, what the hell are you two doing here?” King demanded.
Now would be a great time for my vision to come back miraculously. I would have loved to see King’s face.
Ethel and Gravel had moved to Apache Junction a while ago and had been living it up in a retirement RV park. They had both sworn it would take an act of God to get them back in Wisconsin since they had gotten used to the Arizona weather and the fact that Gravel could ride his motorcycle year-round.
“How did you get here?” Meg demanded.
“I know how to work the internet, Meg,” Ethel tsked. “I may be old, but I’m not dead.”
“I got her a smartphone for Christmas,” Gravel grunted. “She’s become a wiz in that thing. I told her I needed some parts for the Harley, and they were at the steps of the RV three days later.”
“We’re not here to talk about that,” Ethel hushed. “My baby, Grant,” she cooed.
“Jesus,” Dad mumbled.
“Is he eating in his sleep?” Ethel asked. “Why are his eyes closed but he has a calzone in his hand?” she demanded. “He can choke on that if he’s sleeping,” she worried.
