#17 Sunday Morning "Better than Coffee"

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Lacey awoke naturally as light poured in from her bedroom window. She'd shifted from the night before when Marie had tangled her hands in Lacey's hair. Heat rushed to her face as she recalled the night.

Marie's arm had found it's way again to Lacey's middle, and her hand to the scar. Palm covering the jagged skin that'd been peppered in gentle kisses hours ago.

Reluctantly Lacey's groggy gaze found the clock at a distance as it sat on the window sill.

10:01am

Lacey couldn't recall the last time she'd slept in so late. Typically she was up before six - even if she didn't work the morning shift. Feeling out of sorts Lacey shifted ever so slightly. The movement causing a sound asleep Marie to stir from her position. Turning away from the light Marie retracted her warmth from Lacey's side as she hid her face from the sun.

Lacey turned with her, propping herself up on her elbow.

A tangle of hair covered parts of Marie's face. Her mouth was parted slightly and as she breathed strands of hair fallen over her mouth shuddered. She looked much more youthful, here in Lacey's bed. More vulnerable, a side Lacey had only just come to know.

Pouring herself a cup of coffee made from the extra grinds she'd 'borrowed' from work Lacey leaned against her kitchen counter. As she gazed around her living space she became self conscious of just how barren it had become. Her home was nothing like the clean organized space Marie occupied.

Sure it was clean, but that was because without any things there was nothing to acquire dust. Like Marie's there were no walls to separate the kitchen as it spilled into the dining and living room. Each room was a third of the size of those squared off by oriental rugs that lined Marie's home. Little furniture remained save for the microwave and fridge that came with the apartment as well as a sofa that Lacey was unable to move on her own. The dining room - could it be called that - had no table or chairs as it sat empty.

The bedroom and bathroom were just down the hall and Lacey didn't hear as Marie emerged from the bed and made her way to the kitchen.

Lacey was washing out her coffee mug when Marie wrapped her arms around Lacey. Burying her head into the crook of her neck she whispered. "I told you coffee isn't a proper breakfast."

Lacey sighed as she craned her neck to meet Marie's lips with a kiss before smirking. "I can't eat ramen for all three meals."

Marie laughed though she knew Lacey to be serious.

"Alright well let's see what we can do." With that Marie began peering into the cabinets, groaning as she went.

Three minutes later the contents of Lacey's kitchen lay before the two on the section of counter between the fridge and stove.

Half a loaf of shrink-wrapped banana bread.

One apple with a bad spot on its side.

The contents of a quaker oats box that filled a little more than a half cup.

An unmarked paper bag of coffee grounds

Four packages of Ramen Noodles.

And finally, the crowning achievement: an expired Jiffy box of muffin mix.

"Do you have a baking sheet?" Marie asked eyeing the scarred cardboard Jiffy box.

Lacey shook her head. "I've got two pans." She pointed to the deep pot and shallow frying pan that hung above the oven.

After a brief pause Marie took down the deeper of the two. Giving it a once over she plopped it down on the oven and without another word tore open the muffin mix. Lacey watched in horror as Marie emptied the entire dry mixture into the pot leaving a tiny cloud of flour in the air.

Marie, clearly pleased with herself set on the next step of pre-heating the oven. Fluffing her hair she turned back to Lacey whose eyebrows seemed incapable of settling down to their normal spot. "How friendly are you with your neighbors?"

Thirty one minutes later the two sat on the sofa. Each cross legged as the cushion between them became a table. Balanced on the worn material sat, a cut apple, banana bread, and what Marie coined to be 'skillet muffins'.

While the oven was heating Marie had dragged Lacey into the hallway to beg her neighbors for two eggs. One other tenant shared the floor with Lacey, an older woman named Mrs. Jones.

From their minimal interactions Lacey had gleaned three things within a year of living across the hall. Mrs. Jones was retired, loved cats, and didn't appreciate loud noises after eight pm.

Lacey hoped Mrs. Jones didn't mind neighbors before eleven am as the old woman squinted through the crack in the door. Lacey had never inquired on Mrs. Jones and so she didn't know what to expect as the woman waited to hear their pitch.The chain lock preventing the door from swinging open as one grey-blue eye gave Marie a once over.

Lacey peaked her head out from behind the girl to affirm to Mrs. Jones that she was indeed not a door to door salesperson. Mrs. Jones had mumbled something along the lines of 'well I could guess that by the way she was dressed' as she unlatched the door.

Mrs. Jones was no more than four feet tall, and the pearls dangling from her neck and earlobes seemed to weigh her down as she hunched over. A smudge of lipstick shone on her tooth as she smiled amicably at Marie who explained their request for eggs.

The apartment, although identical to Lacey's, was hardly recognizable amidst the gaudy display of doilies, lace, and glass figurines. In the middle of it all sat a mint green couch with a plastic cover. Mrs. Jones motioned for the two women to take a seat while she ambled into the kitchen.

Hesitantly they sat on the pristine furniture, the crunching of plastic on their skin summoned three cats. Each eager for attention they purred loudly.

"Franklin Delano." The white haired woman called as she reappeared in the sitting room.

She seemed to be addressing one of the cats but Lacey was pressed to discern which one resembled the thirty-second president of the United States. Mrs. Jones' wrinkled hands shook as she handed off the eggs to Lacey indifferently before swooping in to pick up a brown tabby that'd been kneading on the armrest.

Her attention focused on the cat, Lacey and Marie had slipped out of the apartment and back to their innovative baking.

"It turned out ok." Marie bobbed her head as she plunged her fork into the four inch deep muffin concoction.

"We should write Martha Stewart." Lacey hummed in agreement as she picked at the crumbs that'd fallen on her legs. "It is better than coffee."

Marie grinned. "Told you!"

She paused taking another bite as she looked around the apartment. "So what have you got planned for the day?" Marie flicked her attention back to Lacey, her brown eyes studying her.

Lacey hesitated. Today was her day off from work, yet instead of using the day to veg out she had one task that could not be put off. "I have to pack."

She let the words fall lifelessly from her mouth. Tomorrow was the day her rent was due.

Marie didn't seem to catch Lacey's tone as she popped another bite of skillet muffin into her mouth. "Are you going on a trip? Does the coffee house have paid vacation because if so-"

Lacey waved her comment away with her fork. "This is my last day my the apartment." Suddenly she'd lost her appetite.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't pay rent."

Marie's forehead crinkled. "Is that why-"

"It's complicated."

"Well I'd like to hear it." Marie paused placing her fork in her lap she took Lacey's hand. "I don't want you to run off from me again." 

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