Marianne by Elizabeth Hammer (best books to read in life TXT) 📕

Marianne wrinkled her nose, ready to start whining, but Patrick said, “Sure thing,” before she could start. She watched him get up, take the list, and walk toward the door. Given the way he’d been acting lately, she half-expected him to just leave without her. At first, she’d thought Patrick was still trying to give her space. Now it looked as if he was the one who wanted space.

Patrick turned at the door and looked back at her, confused. “Aren’t you coming? I guess I didn’t even ask...”

“Of course,” she said, jumping up. He did want her. She ran to get her purse from the kitchen and met him at the truck.

Marianne pulled a shopping cart out of the stall and headed for the bread section. Patrick followed behind. She stopped and turned toward him. “What are we supposed to get first?”

Patrick looked down and checked the list. “Bagels.”

A one-word answer, of course. It wasn’t exactly suspect in this case, but since that’s all she’d been getting from him today, she noticed it. “Blueberry or plain?” she asked. When he didn’t answer, she realized that she’d whispered the question. “Blueberry or plain?”

“Whatever,” he said. Apparently, the no-sugar-added cupcakes were very interesting to him, and he didn’t want his thoughts interrupted.

Marianne grabbed the blueberry, set them in the child section of the cart with deliberate care, and then started pushing the cart toward the produce side of the store. She wished she had the courage to ask him what his problem was, but the freaking ton-and-a-half of guilt she was carrying around made her avoid it instead. His problem was pretty much guaranteed to be something caused by her, anyway, so she just let him stay mad. He sure as heck had the right. It was kind of sick, but it actually made her feel a little better.

Patrick caught up with her halfway there. “So, um... did you find your cell phone yet?”

The cell phone that Santa Cop confiscated? Yeah, not yet. “No luck, so far,” she said. “I think I’ll just have to get a new one.” Her alibi for the beach party was that she’d gone over to Sally’s house to eat chips and watch Ab Fab. She’d probably lost her phone there or at Blockbuster.

“Maybe you should wait a little longer,” he said. “It’ll turn up.”

“Yeah, maybe,” she said. “Bananas?”

Patrick looked at her for a second and then checked the list. “Yeah. And grapes.”

She nodded and leaned on the handle of the cart while Patrick picked out the produce. She decided to change the subject by ragging on someone else. Always effective. “Why are we doing this? Did you ever think that maybe if we stopped giving in to Danielle’s every whim, then she might stop?”

Patrick looked up from the broccoli/cauliflower display. “Feeling abused?”

“I’m always on the lookout for an excuse to feel abused,” she said. “But today I’m feeling it for you. She didn’t even really ask; she just shoved the list in your face and pushed you out the door.”

“That’s her way of showing affection,” he said. “I take what I can get.”

Marianne moved the cart closer to him. “I saw your portion of the rent check on the counter before we left.” His portion had been the entire amount.

Patrick was busy putting a twist tie on a bag and didn’t look up.

Marianne took the bag when he finished. “She must love you a lot.”

“As do you,” he mumbled, turning away.

“What?” She had to follow him for about ten feet before he turned around. “What did that mean?”

Patrick stepped up to her, close enough that he had to tilt his head down to see her. “I just don’t think that you’re really in a position to criticize.”

“What are you talking about?”

He shook his head. “Never mind.”

“When did—” She looked around at the other shoppers and then forced her voice down to normal volume. “When did you ever pay my rent or go shopping for me?”

He exhaled and looked away toward the pickles and olives. “You’re right; I’m off the hook there. Your dad takes care of all that.”

“What? I don’t...” Marianne hardly knew what she was defending against. “I’m still going to school—He offered! I’m not going to mooch off him forever. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

“Obviously.”

She wanted to stand there and stare him down for acting like such a jerk, but she bolted instead. She turned, grabbed the cart, and pushed it around the corner to the next aisle. She moved down the cracker section, throwing in random kid-friendly snacks. How could he say something so mean? When she sensed him behind her again, she turned around. “In what way do I use you, Patrick? How? How?”

He gripped the handle of the shopping cart, holding it in place. “Where’s your cell phone, Marianne?”

Whoa. That was unexpected. “I lost it.” She stared at him like he was crazy. Which he was. The phone had nothing to do with anything they were talking about. “I never asked you to buy me another one. Is that what you thought? You thought I brought up the rent check because I was worried you wouldn’t have any spare money for me? Do you think I lost it on purpose so I could get you to buy me a fancy new one? What the hell, Patrick!”

He stared back at her. “I just want to know where your cell phone is.”

“You’re acting crazy.”

“Answer me,” he said. Marianne started to move away, and Patrick jerked the cart back roughly, smacking her in the hip. “Answer me,” he said.

Marianne stepped away from him, startled. “What the hell was that?” she said, rubbing her side.

“I didn’t mean for it to hit you. I’m sorry.” His face didn’t soften any, though.

“You don’t look sorry,” she said. “What is wrong with you?” She turned around and speed-walked toward the front of the store.

“Marianne.”

She stopped.

Patrick left the cart and walked up to her—it