Page 5 of Lust
“I had that custom made,” Mary chimed in proudly.
Sara pulled the doll to her chest. “Do you like it?”
“Sure.”
“What do you like about it?”
“I don’t know.”
“How come?”
“I just don’t.”
“Why not?”
This was going to be a long night.
Suppressing the urge to roll my eyes, I took my jacket off, draping it carefully over the back of a bar stool. There was some lint on the sleeve. I tsked and grabbed a lint roller to brush it off.
Sara curiously watched the care I exercised with my favorite piece of clothing item. Putting the roller away, I was once again met with the kid’s expectant face. Mary’s apprehensive gaze flickered between us. I hadn’t been the talkative type since Dad passed away but attempted to converse. The little shit made it difficult with the number of questions she kept firing off without taking a breath.
“What’s your favorite color? Mine’s green.”
“Great.”
“We are having beef stew tonight. Do you like stew?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know that my new room is supposed to be next to yours?”
I glanced at Mary, perplexed.
“Umm… so that’s what we wanted to talk to you about,” Mary said, tucking strands of blonde hair behind her ear. “We thought tonight could be a trial run with all four of us staying in the same house. It makes more sense for Ragu and Sara to move in here with us.”
Generally, Mary limited her visits to Raguel’s condo, which is why I had never met Sara before. If they were getting married, I supposed living together came with the territory, and this mansion made more sense for a family of four.
“Only if you are okay with it,” Raguel added while Sara looked quizzically between the three of us.
“It’s fine,” I said absentmindedly before following up with a question of my own. “You still plan to change your last name to Marcolf, right?”
My dad came from an affluent family. They were adamant about avoiding gold-diggers looking to sink their claws into a Marcolf. So, things like family homes, land, and money were all put into trusts and could only be passed down to an offspring of the same last name, not a spouse.
Though everything was to remain in a trust until I came of age, this house was my property. Raguel’s request to move in here only solidified my bargaining chip despite him having previously offered to change his name.
“Of course,” he said easily. “I already started on me and Sara’s paperwork.”
I needed to hear this confirmation because I could concede to him moving into my house, marrying my mother, and even adopting me. But there was no way I’d give up my last name, and I refused to be the only person in this household with a different surname. I couldn’t take those feelings of alienation.
“I’m so glad that’s settled.” Mary clapped her hands, looking relieved to be done with it. “Now, let’s eat. Sara, do you want to help me set the table?”
“Yes!”
Sara did the plate setting with great care under Mary’s guidance while Raguel finished cooking. I contemplated helping, but the three of them shared such a natural streamline that I didn’t dare interrupt. This wholesome experience was entirely foreign to me, and these people might as well be aliens.
Every politician had their strategy; Dad’s was to be vocal only during rallies and debates. Otherwise, he was selective with his words so as to give the press less ammunition. He raised me to follow in his footsteps by keeping a neutral front and a reserved personality.
Mary hated it.
