"Grammy!" I called to the empty living room with no response. I was cold, wet, tired, and hungry. For the last three years, I'd been spoiled by Mike's giant pick-up truck and spared the mass transit nightmare that was the ninety-minute journey from Manhattan to Grammy's house in Long Island. After taking a bus and two trains, I had to walk twenty minutes in the freezing cold. The rain started when I had five minutes left in my walk, and I ran the rest of the way. My old bedroom looked exactly the way it did when I left for college eight years ago, and I began to peel off my wet clothes before slipping into an old pair of pajamas. I flopped on the bed and was staring at the ceiling when I heard my grandmother’s voice.
"Janie?" she called, sounding like she was in the kitchen. "Is that you, sweetie?”
“Yeah, it’s me.” I found her standing at the countertop unpacking grocery bags and some boxes. The kitchen looked like the stock room at a food pantry. “Grammy, how did you get all this stuff?”
"Michael, dear." Her back was turned so she couldn't see the color drain from my face.
“Mike was here?” I asked, suddenly wishing I was still in my wet grown-up clothes and not SpongeBob Square Pants pajama bottoms and a My Chemical Romance t-shirt that was too small.
“Is here, sweetie,” she corrected me. “I called him and asked him if he could help me pick up a few last-minute things for Christmas.” She picked up last-minute things, all right, if she were preparing for the last minute before the zombie apocalypse. A man wearing Mike’s boots walked into the kitchen carrying a 24 pack of paper towels stacked on top of a 48 pack of toilet paper that obscured the entire upper half of his body.
“Where do you want these, Grammy?” he groaned and kicked the back door closed with his foot. My heart started to race. Running out of the kitchen before he put down the groceries seemed like a solid plan for a split second, but then I remembered my grandmother already knew I was there. I stood frozen on the spot unsure of what would happen next.
"Just put them down anywhere, sweetie." Mike lowered the packages to the floor and pushed them over to the wall with his foot. He momentarily froze when he noticed me standing in the kitchen and gave me a small smile that didn't reach his eyes and mouthed the word hi. My heart melted and I wanted to run into his arms, but I didn’t. I returned his smile and gave him a small wave. “Jane, don’t just stand there. Help me put away these groceries.”
Snapping out of my Mike-induced trance, I started reaching into bags, pulling out cans and boxes and shoving them into the cabinets.
“I’ll take the heavy stuff to the pantry.” Mike picked up a box of giant cans and walked out of the kitchen.
"Janie, go help him," Grammy said and nudged me with her elbow. Unable to think of a reason not to that would make sense, I picked up two of the 64 ounce containers of laundry detergent and followed Mike downstairs into the basement.
"Hey, stranger." He set the box down and reached out and stroked my cheek. "Nice PJs. My Chemical Romance?"
“What do you have against My Chemical Romance?”
“Nothing. They’re cool guys. I used to hang out with Ray all the time.”
I nodded. "Sometimes I forget you were a big rock star."
“We did okay.” He sighed and started unpacking the box. “I’m not stalking you, by the way. Grammy called me this morning and asked me to help her make a Costco run.”
“So you volunteered to go to Costco on Christmas Eve?” I started handing him the giant cans of tomato soup.
“Well, how else was I supposed to get Christmas cookies?” He grinned at me. “And you know I can never say no to your grandmother.”
My parents died in a car accident when I was five, and I was raised by my grandparents. About two and a half years ago, my grandfather died after suffering a massive heart attack, and Grammy and I really leaned on Mike for support. I know he still takes her to run errands and fixes things around the house, when he has time.
“She is very persuasive.” I smiled handing him the laundry detergent.
“How are you, Jane?”
“I’m okay. You?”
“I miss you.” His words pierced me. It had barely been twelve hours since our fight. Though, it felt like less of a fight and more like the ramblings of an insecure insane person. I was the insecure insane person which was more of a reason Mike would be better off without me.
“You just saw me last night.”
“I miss you whenever I’m not with you.” He took a lock of my hair and twirled it around his finger before releasing it. We were gazing at each other, the tension thickening with every second.
Before I could stop myself, I launched my body onto Mike, and he caught me, crashing our mouths together. He set me down on top of the washing machine and pulled my pajama bottoms down, not daring to separate our lips. I heard the jingling of his belt buckle as he fumbled to free himself and I reached down to help. Within seconds Mike had plunged himself between my thighs, and my teeth dug into his shoulder to keep me from crying out. The washing machine rattled as he drove it into the wall with his hips and there was no way my grandmother couldn't hear it, but I didn't care. It felt too fucking good. Mike's face was pressed into my neck where I could feel his warm breath caressing me and hear him calling my name.
“Jane. Jane? Jane!”
I blinked and look up at Mike who was standing in front of me, fully clothed and wearing a knowing grin.
I had just had a sex daydream about Mike, who was standing right in front of me.
“Hey, Dreamlover,” he said. “That looked like a good one. Was it me?”
“No,” I lied, my face burning with embarrassment. “It was Jason Momoa.”
“Nope.” He grabbed the empty boxes and made his way towards the stairs. “It was definitely me.”
"It was Khal Drogo and Aquaman, at the same time," I yelled to his retreating figure, and he answered me with a chuckle.
We finally finished unpacking the groceries and collapsed at the kitchen table where Grammy served us hot chocolate and Christmas cookies. When her back was turned, Mike slid the entire plate of cookies in front of himself and slapped my hand away when I tried to reach for one, making me chuckle. It was bittersweet how comfortable it felt, and I know Mike felt it too.
“All right, young lady,” he said addressing my grandmother. “I have to get going.”
“Are you sure, Michael?” she asked with genuine disappointment and it made my heart constrict.
Mike tossed a quick glance at me before answering, “Yeah, I have some work stuff to take care of in the city.”
“On Christmas? You work too hard.”
"Yeah, I know." He leaned down and kissed her cheek, and she handed him a tin filled with cookies. His head tilted as he passed me telling me he wanted me to walk him to his truck and I followed him out of the kitchen.
"Thank you for not throwing me under the bus with Grammy," I said.
He smirked. “You’re welcome. And besides, I got what I came for.” He held up the tin of cookies.
“I’d double-check that if I were you. Every time I ever opened one of those it was full of sewing supplies.”
He chuckled and his smile faded. “I wasn’t sure if I’d see you tomorrow and I knew you’d be here, so—” He opened the driver’s side door and grabbed a large gift box. “—I wanted to make sure you had something to open from me.” I took the box from him and clutched it to my chest.
“I didn’t bring your gift with me.”
"That's okay, you can give it to me right now." He gave me a mischievous smirk, and I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.
"It was me, wasn't it? In the basement?" He climbed into the truck and was leaning out of the driver's side window. I rolled my eyes and tilted my head. He made no move to leave my grandmother's driveway, and I knew he was waiting for an answer.
“It was you, okay. Happy?”
“Not even close, but I’ll take what I can get.”