Page 23 of Marx

A smile tugs at his lips, “Who am I to say no to a Mama Debs special?”

We turn back to the house and I know that we need to sort this shit out, ASAP. But first, we got dessert to finish.

Chapter 9

Lovely

“So, I guess we just…wait?” Vi whispers as we all sit together in the panic room that Pops has.

I have to admit, taking it in, that he’s done a good job of it. At the Keep the panic room was basically a tornado shelter. Here, it’s furnished with plush fabrics, there’s a large screen TV and a selection of DVDs and video games. There’s a kitchenette area as well as a fully stocked bathroom. Chewy even showed us all the back rooms (yes, Pops has back rooms to his panic room) where he keeps shelves of food and toiletry goods all laid out like a grocery store.

“Grown ups are always complaining,” Cove says in her overly loud voice, rolling her eyes at Elio and Jovie. They’re on the floor playing some type of board game. Bee, Laney, Juno, Nat’s daughter Rosie and Ana’s son Jr are all around the sameish age, so they’re toddling around messing up the big kids’ game.

“Grown ups have a lot of things to worry about,” Mira says.

“Like what? Making moony eyes at each other?”

“Ugh, gross! My mom and dad do that ALL the time,” Jovie says in disgust.

“So do mine! But maybe less since Tess was born,” Cove replies.

“I’m way too tired for all that,” Blanche says, addressing the adults. Well, us Girl Gang because Chef, TumTum and Flack are busy comparing their guns and knives.

“Hear, hear!” Ana says, leaning over to high five her.

“Wait, your kid is like, old.” Chewy says, wide eyed.

“Yeah but he still doesn’t sleep through the night.” Ana replies, smiling down at Jr as he toddles toward her.

“You need a proper routine for him. Feeding, educational, physical activity and then a good bedtime routine. Laney is a good sleeper because of all those things,” Chewy says with a nod.

Some of the girl gang roll their eyes, but I just smile at Chewy. One of the ways she likes to care for people is to give them strict routines and statistics.

“Ladies, we have the go ahead to head up now. Marx is calling Church,” Chef calls out.

“But my browni-”

“Church with dessert,” TumTum adds, looking just as relieved at the prospect as Mira.

The men do some type of complicated code on the touch screen pad thing attached to the wall before the door slides open, revealing the basement. It looks like every other basement, slightly neglected with all sorts of forgotten items neatly stacked on shelves.

“May I have this honor?” TumTum asks as he bends toward me. I give him a grin and a nod and he slides his arm around my back, the other beneath my knees and lifts me into his arms.

We slowly climb the stairs, my arms holding around his neck in the hopes I can keep my full weight off him. I’m short like my sister, and all Landry women are built sturdy. Since I had Bee I’ve also filled out a little, making me nowhere near as light as a feather. Flack opens the door at the top of the stairs andTumTum carries me through to the main living room, where we’re met with a low growl.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

“Just helping Lovely up the stairs, Prez.” TumTum gently places me in my chair that Flack has just parked up next to us.

“You don’t touch her.” Marx jabs a finger at poor TumTum who looks equally confused and like he’s going to soil his pants.

“He was helping me. I don’t suppose you’d want me to walk up the flight of stairs, would you?” I ask in my calm voice. No need to raise it. I’ve done that before out of anger and well, let’s just say I learned my lesson.

“He had his hands all over you!” Marx whirls around, glaring at me.

“You are being ridiculous and we have bigger things to worry about than who has their hands on me.” I offer back with a serene face even though I want to get my angry, no, livid face on. Who does he think he is? TumTum was only helping.

Marx takes a deep breath and appears to shrink as he lets it out slowly. I know he’s under a lot of pressure, but geez, the man needs to get a grip. What and who helps me is of no concern to him. He runs a hand down his beard and nods, stepping back from TumTum. I reach out and grip TumTum’s hand before thanking him. He gives me a tight smile and pushes me next to Mira who is sitting at the end of one of the couches.

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