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Atticus: I've been working there four fucking weeks! I'm going to be eating ramen noodles for the rest of my life.
Asher: Never tried them.
Atticus: Dude, fucking disgusting. Trust me.
Asher: Matilda's making roast au jus for dinner tonight with those homemade Yorkshire puddings you like.
Atticus: I hate you. Loathe. Despise. Basically every synonym for hate there is.
Asher: Call me?
My phone rang a minute later, and I whined long and loud into the receiver in place of saying hello. I'd been accused of being overly dramatic in the past. There might be some truth behind it.
Asher chuckled. "You're pathetic."
"Why have you not run away with me? We've been separated. I can't stand it. It's like the individual cells in my body are trying to divide again and make another you. It hurts. I can't do it twice." I whimpered again for emphasis. "Ash, I'm screwed, and not in the bend me over the hood of the Jag and pound my ass type of way. The bad way. The painful way. The oh-crap-my-bank-account-is-in-the-negative way. I'm fast running out of ideas, and you're over there living the high life and eating roast au jus with my goddamn Yorkshire puddings."
"I get the sense you're trying to tell me something, but whatever it is, it's getting lost in translation. You're rambling. What's going on? Speak-a the English. What's the problem?"
"What isn't the problem? I'm poor and miserable. I was not ready for adulthood this soon. Tell Mom and Dad it was all lies. It was a phase. I'm over it. Ha, good joke, right?"
"Riiight, and how do you propose I magically make the burned image of your mouth around Ryan Vector's cock disappear from Matilda's mind?"
"Fuck. You know what? We don't need a housekeeper. Fire her ass! Tell Mom and Dad she's a big fat liar who lies and hates me. Tell them she's stealing from them. She's an illegal immigrant! No, tell them, she's a housekeeper by day and a hooker by night. I saw her walking the streets of Fifth Avenue after sundown in a mini skirt and fishnet stockings."
I paused, envisioning our sixty-year-old housekeeper/used-to-be-nanny in that kind of attire. Asher and I both audibly ewwed at the exact same time.
"Dude, that's fucking gross as shit, and you know it. I just threw up in my mouth. Why would you put that image in my head?"
"I regret many of my life decisions. Add it to the list. Ash, I'm serious. Just make something up. Get rid of her. We don't need a housekeeper, and we're long past requiring a nanny. Especially one who walks into rooms without knocking. What was she thinking?"
"The door wasn't closed."
"Not the time, Ash!"
"Okay, so let's pretend for five minutes Matilda dies in a horrible car crash."
"We could make that happen.
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