Something Blue

Chapter 22

Robin and Perry Thompson were the kind of people who piled their mail on their kitchen table. The assorted clutter on the scratched oak surface included pens, stamps, a jar of coins, a calendar that was two months behind, a dusty #1 Dad mug, a stack of Pizza Ranch coupons, and a random dish of cat food - but no cat. No one cleaned off the table unless Robin's mother-in-law was coming to town. Whenever they had company, they ate in the dining room. Tonight was no exception as Pierce directed Elliot to a tiny room with an oversized table.

Erin was showing Elliot all the dishes she and Pierce had painted when they were kids. They had spent a lot of time at the pottery place downtown. There was a glossy plate with a painted noodle-looking giraffe that made Elliot chuckle. Pierce stole the ceramic platter from his hands and muttered something about artistic vision.

"I'm a great artist," Pierce insisted.

Elliot set a folk on a paper napkin, scrunching his face as if to agree only partially. "Maybe in the dark," he smoothly remarked.

Erin laughed, thinking it was a harmless insult directed toward Pierce's painting skills, but it was a coded, double-meaning quip - a message in a bottle floating along a hidden line of blue.

Elliot let memories of their night at the art studio swarm his brain. The starry sky, the sticky paint between their bodies, the sight of Pierce's naked body. Elliot's neck suddenly felt hot.

Before Pierce could even smirk, the doorbell chimed.

"Thank God," Erin muttered, relieved to see her friend Mo standing in the doorway with three pizza boxes. She was worried she'd have to sit next to Taylor during dinner.

"Hey everybody," Mo greeted, shrugging off her camouflage jacket. She assessed Elliot and Taylor with a contorted expression. "Who are the new faces?" Not rude, just humorously curious.

"Welcome back, honey," Robin said, hugging the girl tightly. "We're glad you're home safe." They embraced each other as comfortably as a mother and a daughter, but Elliot couldn't help but wonder why Mo was so important to the family. She wasn't Pierce's relative, but she was treated like the forth Thompson child.

"Me too," Mo replied. "Can't say I missed the snow, though." Her features were sharp, but her eyes were soft. Elliot could practically see the caramel swirling within her stare, like a candy bar with a hard exterior and gooey inside.

When Robin and Mo detached, Pierce spoke, saying, "Mo, this is - "

But Taylor interrupted, pursuing Mo with open arms. She crushed her into an unreciprocated hug, saying, "You're going to get through this."

Mo looked confused. "Uh...?"

"Ah, Christ," Erin cursed, reading the awkward situation.

Taylor pulled away, but still clutched Mo by the shoulders. "And I will be here for you. Every step of the way. You brave, brave soul," the beauty queen said, visibly showing pity. "I volunteer with cancer patients all the time. I understand what you're going through. You are not alone, sweetie." Then she was hugging her again.

"Who is she?" Mo asked. "She called me sweetie. Can I kick her?"

It was Chase who peeled his girlfriend from Mo's body, knowing she would not hesitate to display physical force. "She's not a cancer patient, babe," he explained. "This is Morgan. She's, uh..." He swallowed, eyeing Mo for support.

"I'm bald," Mo spoke. "I have alopecia. Not cancer, weirdo. You think I'd be a Marine if I was terminally ill?"

"Oh," Taylor recoiled, not even competent enough to be embarrassed. "Well, wigs are really trending right now, so - "

Chase spoke over her, saying, "Morgan, this is Taylor." He hesitated before adding, "My girlfriend."

Elliot saw the shock flash across Mo's face. It was subtle, but it was there - in the ripple of her forehead, the sad slant of her lips. Chase noticed too, meeting her hurt attitude with apologetic eyes.

Mo blinked quickly to morph her surprise into fake thrill. "Wow." She plastered a grin onto her face. "Nice to meet you." There was no - I've heard so much about you. Or - how long have you been together? Elliot calculated the tension balancing between her brow bones.

Pierce cleared his throat. "And this is Elliot," he said.

Mo turned, assessing Elliot's blue hair and then saying, "You definitely don't have alopecia."

"No," Elliot chuckled. "I don't." He liked her sense of humor.

Mo inhaled deep. "Perry, where's the scotch?" Her tongue clicked. "I know you're drinking something."