Chapter Thirty Two - His Dog

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Mabel: Where are youuu

Mabel: I'm leaving for my parents in twenty. I'll abduct your dog if I have to

Mabel: a lack of a response means you've signed the rights to Marco to me

A whimper pulled me away from my phone as I stared into Marco's pitiful eyes.

I reached down and scratched his ears. "Don't worry, your daddy loves you. He's just not currently responding. Don't take it to heart." I pursed my lips at the golden haired creature currently giving me puppy dog eyes, "Though he did name you Morbid. I'd take that to heart if I were you."

I leapt up and threw my duffle bag over my shoulder. "Looks like you're going to meet my parents, Marco. Your grandparents? No, that would be weird." I stared into Marco's innocent gaze. "Well, we can always say foster grandparents. Come on boy," I whistled as Marco accompanied me on what was now going to be a long ride.

I was right.

The ride was unbearable and Marco is a seat hog. At one point I had to pretend he was a seeing eye dog to allow him onto the bus.

As I climbed into a cab to take the short drive home, I felt my phone vibrate. Seeing Marcus's name almost gave me a feeling resembling butterflies? Was this new? Or leftover feelings from Jackson?

Marcus 🧙🏼‍♂️🧞‍♂️♋️🧦🤯: I'm so so sorry. Did you see the huge fire along highway 26? All hands on deck. I'll drive by and grab Marco from you

I felt a pang of fear flow through me at the thought of Marcus being anywhere near a life and death situation. Logically, I knew this is what he did for a living. But knowing that he was out battling a fire as I texted him with no response made my blood run cold.

Mabel: Are you okay??

Marcus 🧙🏼‍♂️🧞‍♂️♋️🧦🤯: Perfectly fine, Maybie

Mabel: Don't ruin your Christmas Eve to drive for Marco. He's fine with me. I'll need your signature to fully adopt him though

Marcus 🧙🏼‍♂️🧞‍♂️♋️🧦🤯: Don't even think about it. I'm just stopping at home to shower and change and I'll swing by to pick him up

I sent Marcus my parents' address before paying the cab driver and jumping out, Marco following me obediently.

I stood in front of a house I hadn't seen in over a year. It was homey. It had been my school, my hangout spot, and my home. It felt odd not to have been here for so long after having only been here for eighteen years.

"Mabel!" My dad gushed as his balding head poked out of our front door. The rest of his body followed suit, his sweater vest with a white collar peaking out and khaki pants tailored to his slim figure. He pulled me in for a tight hug before releasing me and adjusting his circular glasses on his thin face. "My baby is finally home."

"Hey dad," I smiled at his contagious expression. He reached out and grabbed my duffel bag

"Who's this?" He raised an eyebrow at Marco who sat silently next to me, staring at my dad (though I think he was waiting for treats).

"This is my friend's dog, Marco. He won't be staying with us the entire time don't worry," I explained as we walked up the steps.

My mom's voice trailed from inside, "Don't wait outside, Harold! You're not wearing a jacket."

I rolled my eyes (likely the first of many eye rolls) at my mom's constantly paranoid state. She had really found her calling as an epidemiologist.

"Mabel!" My mom enthused as she pulled me in for a tight hug. This was surprising because 1. My mom was not a hugger and 2. She hadn't asked me to change my clothes or wash my hands from my multiple buses trip.

"Hi mom," I replied glancing at my dad as he stared at the two of us, teary eyed.

"Our family together again," He sighed. "I just have no words."

"Well I have a few," my mom interrupted, letting go of me to cross her arms against her chest.

My dad scratched the back of his head, "Ah. I thought we were over this, Jean."

She scoffed, "Me? Over this? Since when have I gotten over anything? Or have you just forgotten about your little treat?"

Marco barked (he really was a chunky dog at heart) and wagged his tail excitedly.

My mom glanced at him in surprise clearly not having noticed the overly large dog sitting in her foyer. "Harold, there's a dog in the foyer."

"I'm aware," He replied before realizing this could get him out of his predicament. "Oh please, let's talk more about this dog. He's important. I can tell."

"You have a dog, Mabel? Did you check for fleas? Do you think you might be allergic? There was one time when you were five where we were around a dog at a park and I could have sworn you began to produce the strangest rash on your arms. You didn't even pet that dog so your allergies must be quite severe."

I showed her my arms, "No rashes, mom."

"Hmm," She agreed, checking my arms herself.

My dad nodded in agreement. "Let's not forget other possible allergens, Jean. Grass, dandelions, pollen, wasn't there a hay bale maze-"

"-Guys! I'm completely fine! No rashes have taken over my body that I'm aware of. Can we not be epidemiologists for two seconds?" I begged, still clutching onto Marco's leash.

"Of course, honey," My mom replied.

"What do you prefer, Mabel?" My dad asked as he grabbed onto Marco's leash himself. "A veterinarian? I've always wanted to be a dentist. I could give that a try if you'd like."

"When's the last time you went for a dental cleaning, Mabel?" My mom asked.

I groaned and I made my own way inside my house because clearly I'd travelled back to my homeschooling years and was being treated like a child.

"Was it my joke?" My dad whispered to my mom.

"It's always your jokes, Harold," My mom whispered harshly in return.

"I'd like to say something," I stated as they stood a little straighter waiting for me to continue. "I'm twenty one. I live on my own and have somewhat mastered independence - to a degree that some would claim is unprecedented, but no need to dwell on that. I would like if we could have a normal dinner as adults. All of us."

"Yes, wouldn't that be nice?" My mom responded smiling at me almost proudly.

"If you please, ma'am, can I take your jacket?" My dad questioned.

"Harold! We've talked about the jokes!" My mom chastised.

As I stared at my parents bickering, I realized it wasn't much of a wonder that I was so odd. I came from two overly paranoid, overly cautious individuals who then let me marinate in the same house as them for eighteen years. What did I expect? I was looking at my future, I was sure of it. This was a depressing moment.

I glanced at Marco to see him looking the same way. My parents were actually depressing him. After all the hype I had given them about being surrogate grandparents and Marco wasn't even enjoying his visit.

But I couldn't help the other part of me that really missed Marcus. I was fighting with Connie and though I had relayed the argument to Amanda, she claimed Switzerland and refused to take a side. But I hadn't seen Marcus in a while and I missed how easy it was to just be myself around him. There weren't many people that I could do that with.

And by the looks of my parents, I didn't know how many people there would be in my lifetime that could actually stomach the three of us.

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