Goalie

Chapter 5: Mariana, Part 2

Peeking through the peephole, all I see is a fancy coffee cup. Being that my old-school coffee machine isn't even done brewing yet, that's all I need to see before I'm convinced to open the door. Surely a madman wouldn't bring me coffee before killing me.

"Good morning," I hear as I swing the door wide. A smile crosses my face.

"Marcus. That coffee better be for me," I jest with a smirk.

"Of course it is." He shoves the cup into my hands and lifts up a Shipley's bag and waves it in my face. "I brought something for the kids, too."

"Donuts. You sure know how to bribe them for love. Come in."

My next-door neighbor makes his way past me, into the small eating area and greets the kids with a smile.

"Hi, Marcus!" Myra chirps brightly, while Lina grunts her hello. Theo doesn't say anything, just keeps his eyes trained on the bag. He may be young, but he's no dummy.

"Good morning, kiddos. I heard you guys get up, so I figured you'd like some donuts for breakfast," he singsongs.

"Yay!" Myra yells and even Lina gets an excited look on her face. Sugar is apparently the key to waking her up early. I, on the other hand, groan.

"I'm sorry, Marcus," I say, as he digs into the bag and passes out the sugar goodness to the kids. "I didn't realize how loud Theo was this morning. I hate how thin these walls are."

"Don't even worry yourself about it, baby girl." He tears up a glazed donut and drops the pieces on Theo's tray. Theo's eyes get wide and then he shovels them in his mouth as fast as he can, the scrambled eggs forgotten. "Hey, slow down man. You're gonna choke." Marcus chuckles and then turns to address me again. "I needed to get up anyway. There's no use wasting the day. Besides, like I told you before, I would much rather wake up to this little dude's crying than the sounds the last neighbors used to make." He shudders. "I'm all for the man getting pegged, but have a little respect for your neighbors when you do it."

Marcus has been our next-door neighbor since we moved in a few months ago. We first met him when I dropped a box of toys in my bedroom as I was trying to put it on a top shelf. Apparently, he heard the thud of the toys and my scream, so he ran over and straight into the apartment, armed with a golf club because he was convinced I was being murdered. I was too shocked by his disheveled blue Mohawk and My Little Pony pajama pants to even register that a strange man had barged into my apartment. We've been friends ever since.

I dish out some eggs on a small plate and hand them to him. He digs in with a groan.

"Well, I can guarantee there won't be any tawdry noises coming through the walls any time soon, so you don't have to worry about that."

He raises an eyebrow at me. "I think a few tawdry noises might do you good, don't ya think?"

"Marcus," I warn.

"Baby girl, just hear me out." I roll my eyes and turn back to the mess on the counter to clean it up. "No one says you have to find the next great love of your life right now. But maybe it's time you go out and having a little fun." I scoff, but he won't drop it. "Mari, don't think I haven't noticed you're starting to fall apart."

"What are you talking about?"

He gives me an incredulous look. "When you first moved in, you wore yoga pants and a messy bun maybe twice a week. Now, you don't wear anything else."

"I don't have anywhere to go," I argue. "I'm a busy mom. I dress for comfort, not style."

"That's why you haven't taken that Mutiny sweatshirt off in a week?"

I look down. He's right. I've been throwing it on over my clothes to stay warm, but hadn't really noticed that the front was looking pretty bad.

"Seriously, Mariana. There are stains all over it. What is that on your shoulder?"

I pull the sleeve out to get a closer look. "Uh, looks like smooshed goldfish."

"Mari," he admonishes. "I'm worried about you."

"Okay, okay, I get it," I finally say. "I need to pull myself together more."

"No. You need to give yourself a reason to pull yourself together more. Get a Bumble account, or sign up for a singles event or something."

"Marcus," I hiss and look over at Myra, who is completely ignoring us as she licks the glaze off her donut. Turning back to him, I whisper, "I'm still married. Now lower your voice."

He c***s an eyebrow at me, and I roll my eyes to the ceiling in return.

"Yes, it's on paper only. But it still feels like it would be cheating."

"Really, Mariana?" he counters quietly like I asked. I feel my face get hot with embarrassment. I know what he's going to say, and I don't want to hear it. "After all those years of infidelity, you're worried a Bumble account is crossing the line?"

"Stop," I plead quietly. I bite my lip to keep it from quivering. Even all these months later, it feels like a punch in the gut whenever I think about how many women Santos cheated with and what a fool I was.

I feel Marcus come up behind me and put his arms around my waist. "I'm sorry, baby girl," he soothes in my ear. "I didn't mean to say it. I wasn't thinking."

Hearing his sincerity, I know he means it, but I'm shaking so bad from trying not to cry in front of the kids, all I can do it nod in response. He knows how hard all of this has been on me. His own sister is going through a divorce, so he understands how the wrong statement can set me off instantaneously. The lump in my throat won't let me speak without crying, so I say nothing.

"Let's think of something else," he encourages. "Um… remember that door decorating contest the apartment complex sponsored and the snowman I made out of cotton balls?"

I giggle before I can stop it.

"And the rain storm that came through as soon as you put the finishing touches on."

"And all the cotton balls got wet and eyes and mouth looked like they were bleeding because the paper got wet and made the marker run," he adds.

We both start laughing now.

"And the bird that decided the real carrot nose was a great place to perch and poop - "

"Right on my stoop so I stepped in bird s**t everyday for a week –"

"Until that squirrel decided to eat the carrot and all that was left were soggy cotton balls and little stick arms."

Tears are streaming down my face from laughing so hard at the thought. Some are tears of sadness, too. But at least the kids think it's all from laughter. And it gets it all out so I can move on from the grief this morning.

"Pretty sure the apartment complex gave me that twenty-five dollar discount on my rent out of pity." I nod in agreement, still wiping my tears away.

Marcus turns and rips apart another donut to give the baby some more.

"Me, too, Marcus," Myra exclaims. "I want some more donut, too, please!" Lina grunts her agreement.

"I like that you said please," he responds. "Just for that, you get a chocolate-covered donut!"

I groan. "Marcus! You are going to give them a sugar high and then leave me to deal with all the hyper!"

He flashes a wide, ornery grin my way. "This is when I defer to my rights as their uncle."

"And this is when I defer to the fact that you aren't their real uncle," I reply.

He waves me off. "Tomato. To-mah-to."

I can't help but smirk at the look of pure pleasure on Lina's face after taking a huge bite. Truth is, if it wasn't Marcus bringing donuts and feeding them too much sugar, it would have been Santos, anyway.

"So. Back to the discussion at hand."

I groan and grab a rag to wipe off the counter. "You're never going to let this Bumbo thing go, are you?"

"It's Bumble. Like the bee. And no. I'm not. You don't even have to contact anyone. Just look at what's out there. Who knows," he says with a shrug, "maybe you'll find a really good friend who can be a great wingman."

"You aren't going to be my wingman?"

"Who else is going to babysit while you sow your oats?"

I sigh. "Fine. I'll create an account. But I'm not going anywhere with anyone. Probably ever."

The way he claps his hands in delight reminds me of when Myra gets excited.

"If you're this happy now, I'm a little worried about what you're planning to push me into next."

He puts his arm around me. "Don't worry. We'll take it one step at a time."

"Uh huh. Exactly how many steps do you plan on pressuring me to take?"

He looks down at me giving me a devilish grin. "As many as it takes."

Well, I'm screwed.