Left-Handed Engineers From MARZ
Christmas Eve
Three-year-old Danny finally got subdued and coerced
into bed. Portia's in-laws left to sleep at Dan Sr.'s parents' house with
plans to return in the morning. Portia was hard at work putting the girls
to bed (and attempting to keep them there) and Jack and Marlone had disappeared
into the basement playroom to get the sofabed set up. Marsh sat alone on
the living room couch, waiting to be assigned a bed. His luggage was still
in the front hall.
"I found a sleeping bag for you," Portia announced to him. "Spread it out
on the floor of the guest room upstairs, I guess. If you need anything, Zephyr
will help you." She yawned.
The guest room... that was where Zephyr and Reg were sleeping. Marsh shifted
nervously. "Um, are there any alternative spots I could claim?"
"Fraid not. The kids' rooms are too small, the living room is about to
be crammed full of toys, and me and Dan are going to be busy doing our annual
Christmas Eve thing, which you don't want to watch, I bet. You could sleep
downstairs with my mother if you want."
"Er, no." Marsh sighed heavily. "I'll stick with Plan A. Where's the
sleeping bag?"
"Top of the stairs." Portia gave him an exhausted but warm smile. "You're
welcome to stay up longer, but I'm going to bed after we lay out the toys.
If you feel like assembling something, I'm sure there'll be something that
needs it."
Marsh reluctantly lugged his bags up the stairs and down the hall. The
door was already open a crack so he nudged it wide with his foot without
bothering to knock. As he scanned the room for the best strip of floorspace,
he saw a strange woman with wavy blonde hair hunched over the nightstand
on the right-hand side of the room.
Oh wait, that was Zephyr with his hair down. Very strange indeed, Marsh
thought with a bit of shame. Now he was seeing women everywhere he looked.
Zephyr turned around and Marsh realized with bitter humor that, aside from
his body, stubble, and large nose, Zephyr would have made a reasonably attractive
woman.
Marsh heard footsteps behind him and stepped to the right to get out of
the way. "Hi, Marsh," Marlone said. "God, Zephyr, will you get a haircut
already? You look like a girl. You're too old for the slovenly teenage
rebel look."
"Good night, Mom," Zephyr replied. "Shut the door on your way out."
Marsh was momentarily overcome with the urge to shout, "Lay off him, witch!"
(or maybe something more creative, if he could think of anything) but he
knew that wouldn't help. Instead he left to fetch the sleeping bag, dragging
his feet until he saw Marlone disappear into the bathroom. This time he
knocked.
Zephyr opened the door. "Yah?"
"I'm sleeping in here tonight," Marsh said.
"Oh." Zephyr turned and scanned the room. "Where here?"
"On the floor." Marsh shifted the sleeping bag.
"Oh." Zephyr let him in. Marsh expected him to make more gay jokes, but
he didn't. Marsh got busy arranging the sleeping bag and his luggage alongside
the right side of the double bed. The left side was up against the wall,
and after a few minutes Marsh noticed a long, thin lump under the covers
there. Must have been Reg. The thought made him increasingly uncomfortable,
and that surprised him. Where did he think Reg was spending the night?
Maybe it was just the idea that after all the times he'd tried to (and tried
not to) imagine those two sleeping together, he was actually going to witness
it tonight. He hoped they weren't going to do anything... surely
Zephyr at least had more etiquette than that.
Zephyr and etiquette. Marsh shuddered at the thought.
Zephyr eased around him without brushing against him and paused at the
door. "I'm going to help Portia move Santa's stuff into the living room,"
he said.
"Okay," Marsh replied.
Marsh noticed that the cat's litter box was near where he was about to
put his head. He dragged it over to the foot of the double bed on Reg's
side and then spun the sleeping bag around. He wondered where the cat was.
If that thing jumped on his face during the night... well, he tried not
to worry about it. He gathered his pajamas (the most conservative pair
he'd been able to dig up, although he couldn't remember ever using them)
and his toothbrush and headed to the bathroom... which was in use, so he
returned to the room and reluctantly changed in there. Reg never moved,
thankfully. He attempted a second time to brush his teeth and succeeded
in catching the bathroom open.
He bumped into Portia in the hall at the head of the stair. She wore a
little black slip of a nightie that accentuated her slim figure and caramel
complexion, as well as offering a good view of the tattoo on either shoulder.
Marsh was grateful for that. It was bad enough that he was ogling another
man's wife, but the tattoos offered sufficient distraction so that he could
pretend he wasn't eyeing other parts of her.
"Hey, Marsh," Portia said cheerily. She grinned and hugged him with no
warning. "Good night. Merry Christmas. Thanks for coming, and thanks for
putting up with the circus. Hey, nice threads."
Marsh decided at that moment that the circus was worth it. Now he just
had to take refuge in the sleeping bag and not show himself again until he'd
had several hours' sleep.
Zephyr wandered in and out and in again, dressed in baggy sweats and socks.
He shut off the light and shuffled (was he limping? Marsh wondered) past
Marsh into the bed, paused to remove his socks and toss them onto his suitcase,
and then settled in. Marsh considered saying good night, but it seemed
a little tacky.
So he waited to fall asleep instead. And waited. And found himself listening
for any movement from the bed. There was a little, but it sounded just like
someone rolling over. This was very petty of him, Marsh decided. Of course
they knew better than to screw around with guests in the room.
As the quiet settled in, Marsh's mind wandered to a much more appealing
coupling - himself and Portia. After a good long time, Marsh heard whispering.
He strained to listen in spite of himself.
"I hate her," someone said. "I hate her. What the hell is this?.... oh,
it's the cat. Move over, you dumb cat."
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