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“But you don’t need a job,” he insisted. “I have more than enough money to take care of the two of us for several lifetimes. My job is to make you happy, and if I’m doing it right, you should never have to work.”
He tried so hard to make me happy. He said he loved the way my eyes lit up when he gave me presents, which was something he did with great frequency. He loved to spoil me.
Heated floors and toilet seats are some of the things I never knew I needed in my life until I had them. If heaven exists, I guarantee every bathroom has heated toilet seats and toasty-warm floors.
But there are enough children in this room to become a pop band of siblings that tours around the country in a psychedelic school bus.
A loud honk blasts me out of my thoughts. The light has turned green, and somebody behind me is angry that I have waited a single millisecond before taking my foot off the brake.
I put a banana peel on the top step of our steep staircase.
“I’ve never met anyone who had over thirty overdue library books before.” I grab a tissue from the box on the table and dab at my eyes. “I mean, two or three, yes, I can see how that could happen. Over ten would be bad enough. But over thirty?” “I know.” He sighs. “It’s the sort of thing you only see once in a lifetime as a cop, and you hope to never see it again.” I sniffle. “How does such a thing happen? I had no idea he was such a… a monster. He’s clearly capable of anything.”
His airtight alibi of competing in a Quidditch match is bad news. But on the plus side, I no longer suffer from any attraction to him.
And now, for the first time, I realize why I have heard noises coming from this attic room. I understand what the source of the mysterious sounds has been. It’s a Roomba. With a cat riding on it.
“Someday,” I said, “I will tame and ride that dragon.”
Well, actually, the least I can do is nothing.
“I hate so many things,” he muses. “I don’t know where to begin. I… I hate any book that won the Pulitzer Prize. I hate people who use Android phones. I hate dark chocolate. I hate tomatoes when they’re raw, but I love them when they’re cooked. I hate when a mystery book ends on a cliffhanger and you’re forced to read the second one just to find out who did it. I hate pennies.”
the only country that hasn’t switched to the metric system. It makes me so mad!” “The metric system is clearly the best unit of measurement,” I say. “It makes so much more sense for everything to rely on multiples of ten. Like, twelve inches in a foot? What is that? And it doesn’t in any way relate to 5,280 feet in a mile, which isn’t even a multiple of twelve! Our current system is basically a conglomeration of incoherent measurement systems.”
How could I have gotten LED and IUD mixed up? Honestly, they should put some sort of warning on the box of LED lights: These lights will not prevent pregnancy.
When he told me about how they sailed out to the middle of the sea on his private yacht on the night of their third wedding anniversary and she slipped and fell off the deck with no witnesses, leaving him her vast fortune, it sounded so innocent.
