The next morning, we were shockingly normal. We said our good mornings and had breakfast together. Drank orange juice and ate waffles like a normal couple. There wasn't any awkwardness like I'd thought there would be. I rather liked the atmosphere.
That is, things were normal until a hint of murder wafted through the apartment. It ignited when I went to brush my teeth in my own bathroom. I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror and was so horrified that I dropped my toothbrush in the sink.
"Grayson!" I shouted. Here's the murder part.
He skidded into the doorway, sliding in his socks. "What's wrong?" he yelped.
Furious, I pointed to the deep red mark at the base of my neck. "You jerk!"
Suddenly he was no longer panicked. He grinned, leaning against the doorway with an infuriating casualness. "Did I do that?" he asked innocently.
"You are despicable," I grumbled, yanking open one of the drawers. I just had to have some makeup that would fix this.
"Hey, no, don't cover it up, you look good as my girl," Grayson said, his eyes twinkling.
"This does not make me your girl," I said warningly.
"Sure it does," he said, hanging on the doorframe with both hands. "Only my lips get to bruise my wife."
"Possessive moron," I snapped. Phew. Foundation.
"You know I'm messing with you, Jacks," he said, letting go of the doorway and putting his hands in his pockets.
I pointed to my neck again, arguing, "This feels pretty legitimate."
"Okay, yes, I'm sorry that it happened. But not for teasing," he said, spinning away and skipping through my bedroom. Skipping. The man is a chaotic toddler with a degree in seduction.
Someone needs to put him in a timeout.
Grayson left me alone, which probably wasn't a great idea considering I was planning his murder. The murder plans were halted by four interruptions throughout the day.
The first three things were gifts: one each from Nina, Kylie, and Clay.
Nina's gift was my favorite: a huge gift set of lotions and facemasks and other fancy-smelling things. Her card told me to use it for a self-care day without Grayson, since I needed girl time even if I was stuck in Canada without female friends. I appreciated the gift, since it had been a while since I'd taken time for myself.
Kylie's gift was, well, a Kylie gift. I liked the enormous box of chocolates. That was nice. That was normal. What wasn't nice or normal was the card game that was definitely R-rated. I mean really, did she think that a game where you have to do a dare or take a shot was a great idea with me? Apparently so, because that's what she sent. I immediately tossed it in the garbage can, not giving it a second look.
Clay's gift was equally as useless and idiotic: boxers that looked suspiciously like Grayson's size. The note in the box said that they were for "whoever needed them in the Langford-Answell household" I took the brand new package and drove it down to a donation center, figuring I could put them to actual good use.
The fourth thing I received almost made me grateful for Kylie's card game: a phone call from Laura. It was such a scare that as soon as I saw her name on the screen, I threw it to Grayson.
"She's calling you!" he hissed, throwing it back.
"You're her son! And what could she want with me?" I whispered, lobbing it.
He chucked it back. "I don't know, but she's specifically calling you!"
Figuring she would realize our antics, I picked up and put on a fake happy voice. "Laura! Hi! How are you?"
"I'm good, Jackie, how are you?" she asked brightly, delighted to hear from her only daughter-in-law.
"Wonderful!" I said. Wonderful to her meant madly in love with Grayson.
"That's great to hear! And how is my darling son?" she inquired.
I looked over at Grayson, who was shoveling Skittles down his throat. "Never better."
"Good, good. Are you liking Toronto?" Laura asked.
"It's amazing," I said truthfully. "It's beautiful here. And Grayson's penthouse is incredible."
"Penthouse?" she asked. I looked up to see him wildly waving his arms and mouthing NO! on the couch. I quickly corrected my statement, saying, "I mean, his apartment is so nice, it might as well be a penthouse!"
"Ah. Right. Tell me, did you two go to the leafs game?" she mused.
This felt random. "Leafs?" I asked, confused. Grayson looked sheepish.
"Yes, he told me he was taking you this Friday except I didn't see him in the stands."
I was even more alarmed. "You were in Toronto?" I asked, trying not to sound panicked. Or suspicious.
"No, but our season seats are clearly visible on camera, they were empty," she said.
Well, crap, we're in trouble.
"He felt sick," I blurted out. "He...had a fever and thought it would be better to stay in bed. He was heartbroken not to take me."
"Yes..." Laura didn't sound convinced. "How is he feeling now?"
"Right as rain," I chirped nervously. Honestly, that sounded like a fake expression I'd made up on the spot. Grayson thought so too, because he dropped his face into his hands. I'd failed him.
"Good. Well, try to catch a game before you come home. Speaking of which, when are you coming home?" she asked.
"The week before Thanksgiving," I said, glancing at the calendar hanging on the side of the refrigerator. I was dreading that week.
"Alright," she said, clearly disappointed that she wouldn't get to see us in action for quite some time. "Well, keep taking care of my Grayson, and I'll see you then."
I bit my fist to keep from screaming. "Of course. I'll see you then."
She bid me goodbye and the second she hung up, I hurled my phone as hard as I could against the floor. Shockingly, it survived without damage.
"What'd she say to you now?" Grayson asked, concerned for my health.
"That wretched woman thinks it's my job to take care of you," I spat, picking up my phone. "You are twenty-four years old! You can take care of yourself! But noooo, it's the little wife's job, isn't it? My poor husband who slaves away at work is sick and needs my help! Ugh!"
"Sorry," he peeped.
"It's fine," I said, exhaling to get my anger under control. "And if you were actually sick, of course I'd take care of you–because you're my partner. That's what partners do. For each other."
"Right," he said, looking a little relieved that I wasn't totally heartless.
"So what's that about the penthouse?" I asked him, sitting down on the couch.
Grayson squirmed uncomfortably. "Well, I'm not really supposed to own the penthouse. I'm supposedly living in an apartment. Still a luxurious one, but an apartment nonetheless."
"Why?" I asked, curious
He looked even more uncomfortable. "Well, remember how I told you that I was supposed to marry Gracelynn? So when I moved out at nineteen, my mother said I was only to rent an apartment. Something temporary, that way when I started a family, I wasn't stuck with something permanent and not enough room. Such as this place: if I were to have a family, hypothetically, there's only room for one kid and no guest rooms. So my penthouse stays a secret."
"That...is very messed up," I said, bewildered.
"Indeed. At least Gracelynn is engaged now; but unfortunately I have you. No offense, you're great," he said quickly.
I brightened. "None taken."
"Well, with you, mother obviously thinks we'll have children someday. So naturally, we need to find a bigger house."
"Wait, does that mean she's going to make us buy a house before the wedding?" I asked in alarm.
Grayson shrugged grimly. "I wouldn't put it past her."
"Ughhhhh," I groaned, flopping against a pillow. "She has us at every turn."
"Hey, we still have our secret weapon," he reminded me. "Come January, she won't know what hit her."
"Yeah!" I said optimistically. Plus with Clay's scheme, she really would be in ruin.
"By the way, are we going to a Leaf's game?" I asked.
Grayson looked reluctant. "Okay...so we can, if you think you'll enjoy it."
"You won't?" I asked.
"I will–except for the part where we have to sit in the seats next to all the other rich, fancy people who all know me and my family," he said, cringe written all over his face.
"Yucky. No thanks."
"My thoughts exactly," he agreed. "I'll show you hockey someday though, okay?"
"Deal." My mood was much brighter now that I'd been promised hockey and the downfall of my mother-in-law.
Life was strange that way.