“Hello.” Her cheeks are as red as mine, but hers stand out more, considering her pale skin and lack of hair. “You’re her man, huh?”
“I sure am, kid. And I don’t share, so no double-dating while I’m gone. I don’t care how much your man begs to take you pretty girls to the movies.”
She snickers. “No double-dating here. She’s a self-diagnosed addict. And I don’t have a man.” She’s still smiling. “He didn’t like it when I lost my hair.”
Spencer’s eyes darken as they coast over her face and bald head. “He’s a fuckin’ pussy, baby girl. You’re beautiful, and he’ll be sorry when he wakes up beside his horse-faced wife and realizes he could have had you instead.”
“Spencer,” I chastise. “Cussing.”
“He called me beautiful.” She turns to me with an energy she hasn’t had all day. “He called me beautiful.”
“He sure did.” I’m so in love with him. “And he doesn’t say that to just anyone. He doesn’t speak at all unless it’s important and true.”
“How old are you, Marcie?”
Her eyes come back around to the screen. “Um, I’m seventeen. I’ll be eighteen later this year.”
“Seventeen…” He rubs his square jaw as though to think. “I know a guy. He’s eighteen and smart as a whip. He looks good, and has enough muscle, he could pick you up and toss you around.”
Marcie’s cheeks flush. “Umm… okay.”
“He’ll take you out, woo the fuck outta you. We’ll double-date when I get back. Does your ex have a job?”
She nods like a bobblehead. “Yes, sir. He works at the pizza place.”
Spencer flashes a wolfish grin. “Then that’s where we’ll eat. Fuckface will regret the day he ever tossed you aside. I’ll make sure of it. And when he runs out back to cry about his mistakes, I’ll follow him and tear out his fuckin’ fingernails.”
“Spencer! Cussing, and threats of torture!”
“I think I’m in love with you,” Marcie sighs and turns to me. “I think I’m in love with your man.”
She doesn’t give a single hoot about the cussing, or what I’m certain arerealthreats on her ex’s life.
“That happens sometimes.” I grin. “Jump on board. It’s fun on this train.”
“Can I have him?” She turns back to Spencer. “Can I keep you?”
“I’m partial to Miss Priss. But I’m on your side now, okay? Forever. You ever need a friend, you can find me. I’ll take care of your shit.” His eyes skim over her face. “How do feel today? Abigail has told me about you.”
“She has?” She turns to me. “You have?”
I nod. “I told him about my friend Marcie, and how you had the hots for Mitchell.”
Her cheeks fill with color as she turns back to Spencer. “Her brother is so dreamy. I wanted to marry him and make his babies.”
“Can’t say I see the attraction,” Spencer drawls. “But I won’t judge your shitty taste in men… out loud.”
She snickers. “I wanna marry you now. Mitchell-Schmitchell. He’s never called me beautiful or threatened death on my ex before.”
“Lifetime guarantee, okay?” Spencer’s eyes flicker between my face and Marcie’s. “But I’m gonna marry Miss Priss someday. I won’t be available for you, but I know guys. I know loads of ‘em, and I can find you the exact right one. The guys I know are real men, they take care of business, and look after the people they love. Any man I approve for you will have your back forever.”
Spencer continues to make my friend fall deeper and deeper in love with him. He croons about love and respect and loyalty while Marcie turns a little in the bed and snuggles in with the phone between us.
His deep voice soothes us both, but I’m still stuck on ‘I’m gonna marry Miss Priss someday’.He said it so easily, so vehemently, that it shot an arrow of adrenaline through my blood and into my heart. He makes it soundthateasy. Effortless.
It doesn’t take long for Spencer’s soothing voice to help Marcie sleep. Her breathing evens out, and when she releases the phone from her limp hand, I pick it up again and look into the eyes that I’ve fallen madly, deeply, irreversibly in love with.
“I’m back.” I swipe a hand beneath my eye, because my body likes to make me cry at the dumbest times. “What you just did was special. Thank you.”