2. King of Queens (Part II)

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Friday, October 22nd, 2021
(1,073 Days Ago...)





"Ivy! Breakfast!"

When I shake the bowl of food, she comes running.

"There you are. Good morning, pretty girl," I coo. "Are you hungry?"

The tabby meows obnoxiously until I place her food within reach and waste no time digging in, her purrs breaking up between bites. She was notorious for eating like she hadn't in weeks.

I leave her to it and rub my hands through my hair, trying to tame the mess atop my head, but to no avail. I go from the dining area to my bathroom in two steps, rid myself of morning breath, strip out of yesterday's clothes, and hop into the shower. The water is hot all of five minutes, which is plenty of time for a good scrub. I get out, dry off, and throw on the first thing I can find. After dressing in a t-shirt and jeans, I return to the living room to remove any evidence of my crashing. I straighten the couch cushions, refold the throw blanket, reorganize the decorative pillows, and clear off the coffee table. From there, I move about the small apartment with the same mindset, picking up things here and there. Once everything is to my liking, I fix a veggie omelet and eat alongside my cat; her at her bowl and me at the dining room table.

"Ivy."

She perks up.

"Slow down. You're going to choke."

As expected, she disregards my concern and continues, so I settle for keeping a close eye on her. We didn't want another scare. I cleared my plate a few minutes later, and Ivy cleared her bowl. I take our dishes to the sink, and at the same time, I hear a knock on my door. Annoyance sparks in the pit of my stomach as I cross the space to open it.

"Good morn–"

"Roman, what have I told you about showing up without warning?" I've got half a mind to slam the door in his face.

He holds up his phone, looking a mixture of confused and hurt. "I texted you an hour ago."

Now I felt bad. I move aside and let him enter, securing the door behind us. "I don't know where my phone is. Sorry. Did you need something?"

Roman shimmies out of his coat and tosses it to me. "Nah, just came to see my niece."

"Your wh–"

"C'mere, baby," he calls. "Come to Uncle Roman!"

Seeing a big guy like him acting this way only for Ivy to keep her distance is funny. She didn't hate him, but she definitely thought he was weird. I know my daughter well, and it helped that she took after me.

I hang Roman's coat and playfully shove past him. "Leave her be, will you?"

"Fine." He flops down on the couch in a huff. "What smells good?"

I join him, answering with a brisk, "My breakfast."

"Oh, can I–"

"Nope. It's all gone."

"Fat-ass," he mutters.

My eyes widen. "The hell did you just say?"

"Nothin'."

"Uh-huh. Get out."

"No."

"Excuse me? Get the fuck out," I repeat more aggressively.

"Make me," he snickers.

"I literally cannot stand you."

"Good thing you're sitting."

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