A Day in June by Marisa Labozzetta

Author:Marisa Labozzetta
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781771833837
Publisher: Guernica Editions
Published: 2018-07-17T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 16

Tuesday, March 18

RYAN HAS ALREADY left for work when Jason and Tiffany meet for the first time in the bathroom while he’s taking a shower.

“Do you mind if I pee?” she asks, though he can hear she’s begun to take care of business without his permission. “I won’t flush. The water will scald you if I do.”

That’s considerate of her, he thinks, but then she begins to brush her teeth.

“Can you turn down the hot water some?” she asks. “The steam makes my hair frizz.”

Now he’s getting cold. He rinses quickly and turns off the water, assuming that’s enough of a hint, but water is still running into the sink.

“Will you hand me a towel? I’ve been using the blue one,” he says, sticking his hairy black arm around the edge of the shower curtain. He ducks a pair of dripping pantyhose flung over the rod to hang; the towel follows. He steps out of the tub to find her still standing there in an athletic T-shirt that barely covers her private parts. Arms folded, she leans against the sink, wiping away wisps of gray hair with pink tips that spout from an elastic band on the top of her head like burning lava and ash from a volcano.

“Nice to meet you, Jason. I’ve seen your picture.”

“I’ve seen yours too, Tiffany. The one on the refrigerator. Except your hair is blue in it.”

She nods. “In the one on my dresser it’s green.” She continues to size him up. “I’m making French toast. Gluten-free. Coffee or tea?”

“Actually, I don’t drink either. There’s some OJ in the fridge. I bought it yesterday.” He wants her to know he’s no moocher.

“Gotcha.”

And she’s gone.

He was about to tell her to help herself to the juice, but it’s apparent that she won’t have any scruples about doing that if she so desires.

Dressed in a clean pair of jeans and a collared shirt that resembles graph paper, he is surprised to see the table neatly set when he enters the kitchen. Ryan was never particular about that, even when they had company. Like her mother, she never makes the bed either. He’s relieved to see that Tiffany has put on a pair of leggings.

“Nice,” he says. “Real napkins.”

“They’re cloth. All napkins are real.”

“Right. But they’re special. Nice flowers.” He’s referring to the sunflower print on the napkins, which he couldn’t care less about.

“It’s how I am, Jason. They match the flowers.” She points to a tall green vase in the center of the table.

“Wow. Yeah. I see that.”

“You should wear the shirt outside of your jeans.”

“What?”

“You shouldn’t tuck in your shirt. It’s casual. You’re not going to work. Or are you?”

“No. No work—yet.” He starts pulling the shirt out of his pants.

“Do it quickly so it doesn’t wrinkle.”

“I’m afraid all my clothes are pretty wrinkled.”

“It’s a good length, though—you want mid-fly. But it’s a little too relaxed; needs to be more tapered. Next time, buy a slim fit. The jeans are nice.”

“My mother gave them to me.

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