Mother Lucker | ✔

Chapter 7

whatever you do, don't eat the crackers | 07

"SO, WHY ARE YOU HERE?"

Harriet couldn't fathom how she was talking to Daniel at this time and place. Or why. But alas, she was. And she wasn't stopping herself.

Daniel took a sip of his orange juice from across the table. "My grandma. Alzheimers. I've been seeing her everyday." Daniel said this in a hurried way, almost as if he was trying to withhold emotion but knew he couldn't for long. Harriet felt a twinge of sympathy.

"Oh, that's sucks." Harriet sipped her coffee. Was it hot in here? Maybe it was the palpable enemies-talking-without-any-reason tension in the air.

Maybe.

Daniel raised a cracker to his mouth, probably hoping that it would compliment well with his tea. Reflexively, Harriet's arm reached out and stopped him from putting it in his mouth.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Harriet said seriously. Those crackers were nasty. They stared at eachother for a good two seconds before Harriet realized she was still holding his hand away from his mouth. She recoiled.

Looking slightly red, Daniel put the cracker down on the table.

"And you?"

Harriet looked up, confused.

"Why are you here?" Daniel reminded her.

Harriet cringed. The million dollar question. "Same thing as you." She almost gagged at how apparent her lie was.

Daniel raised his eyebrow. "Your grandma is here, with Alzheimers?" If there was a prize for the most doubtful look in the world, Daniel was winning it. "What a coincidence."

"Yeah, crazy."

They sipped their drinks in silence.

Harriet sighed. "I'm actually not here for my grandma." Harriet VanDoren Benchman, what are you doing? I mean it, what even-

"I figured." Daniel smiled. Smiled. At her. Harriet started to hyperventilate. Like a little girl! Come on! Call him a bony chinchilla! Insult his shaving techniques! Make fun of his perfect hair!

"Yeah. It's," she looked down, "my brother. Multiple myeloma."

Daniel frowned. "I'm so sorry. That's horrible."

Like glass shattering, the mood was broken. And Harriet was too tired to try picking up the pieces and salvaging this somewhat decent conversation she was having.

Call her selfish.

"Don't feel special just because I told you," she hissed, bringing her face close to his.

Startled, Daniel flushed at the proximity. "I never said I would!" He pushed himself back.

Unconvinced, Harriet brought herself closer. "Daniel Mormon, I am not kidding. I am not joking. If James Corden came into this room right now, I wouldn't even smile. So I'm warning you," She glared with more vehemence, "If I hear a squeak from you, I will go around the school and tell everyone that during your free time, you dress up like an old lady and like to call your stuffed pig, Daisy, over for tea parties."

Daniel's gaze hardened. "You wouldn't."

Harriet smirked. "Oh, I would."

"Okay, fine," Daniel got up, "I wasn't going to, but whatever."

To his retreating figure, Harriet called out, "Oh, and don't forget that we have practice at five!"