The Maureen Persona

Chapter 8

Chapter 8

“You know me too well,” Megan said as she bit down on the pineapple pizza Jonathon had delivered.

“I’m surprised I found someone that made it,” Jonathon laughed as he dipped his breadstick in the marinara sauce.

“I know it’s not your favorite,” Megan said giving Jonathon a grateful look.

"That's why I ordered breadsticks," he took a bite from the breadstick topped with a trio of cheeses.

“Have you heard anything from me Mrs. Honeywell?” Megan asked as she grabbed another slice of pizza.

“Only that someone made an offer on the piece before the auction,” Jonathon took a sip from his can of soda.

“Who made the offer?”

“She didn’t know. Whoever made the offer did it through a third party,” Jonathon shrugged. “Mrs. Honeywell declined the offer. You made it clear the piece was to be auctioned, if she sold it before the auction that would be a breach of contract.”

“By any chance did she mention how much they offered?” Megan asked picking up another slice of pizza

“Twenty-five thousand,” Jonathon answered before biting down on the last breadstick.

"I knew the piece would generate money," Megan said. "But I didn't think it would generate that much."

“If it wasn’t for the penalty fee of fifty percent of the asking price, I’m sure Mrs. Honeywell would have accepted the offer.”

“You’re probably right,” Megan closed the pizza box and headed toward the kitchen. “You want another soda?” Megan called from the kitchen.

“As long as it isn’t orange soda,” Jonathon said giving Megan a look as she entered the living room carrying a cola in one hand and an orange soda in the other.

“I thought you liked orange soda,” Megan handed Jonathon the cola.

“Yeah,” Jonathon took the cola from Megan’s hand. “But you like it more, so I’ll settle for the cola.”

“You are so sweet,” Megan kissed his cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Let’s hope you never have to find out,” Jonathon smiled as Megan settled beside him and grabbed the television remote.

“What should we watch?” Megan asked as she took a sip of her soda.

“Ladies choice,” Jonathon grinned as Mr. Whiskers jumped into Megan’s lap nuzzling her free hand.

“In that case,” Megan said flipping through the channels. “I think I’m in the mood for a dark comedy.”

“How about Dr. Strangelove,” Jonathon suggested. “That’s a classic.”

“Dr. Strangelove it is then,” Megan pulled up the search on the television and started typing Dr. Strangelove.

“Do we have any popcorn?” Jonathon started to stand.

“I think I saw some in the cabinet above the stove," Megan said as she had to retype the movie's name when she accidentally pressed the clear button.

Jonathon looked back at her and shook his head as he noticed the tip of her tongue visible out of the corner of her mouth as she was determined to type the name of the movie correctly for the third time. A few minutes later Jonathon walked back into the living room with two small bowls of popcorn and another soda for each of them. Placing the popcorn and sodas on the coffee table Jonathon sat back down and made himself comfortable. Taking a handful of popcorn and dropping one of the kernels in his mouth Jonathon relaxed as Megan rested her head on his shoulder when he casually draped his arm on the back of the couch.

They were halfway through the movie when Megan’s steady breathing signaled she had fallen asleep. After turning the television off Jonathon carefully picked her up and carried her bridal style to the bedroom that was designated as hers. Laying her on the bed Jonathon slipped her shoes off and decided against changing her clothes, instead he grabbed a blanket and draped it over her sleeping frame. Mr. Whiskers chose that moment to jump on the bed and curl up beside her. His loud purrs seemed to comfort Megan as she instinctively reached for him and pulled him closer. With a sigh, Jonathon watched as her sleeping expression relaxed. Leaning over he planted a soft kiss on her cheek.

“You love her too don’t you,” Jonathon scratched Mr. Whisker's head as he opened his eyes and immediately closed them as he adjusted his head and settled next to his mistress. “She needs us to take care of her doesn’t she,” Jonathon smiled as Mr. Whiskers responded with a soft meow. “Sleep well Megan,” Jonathon whispered before exiting the room and closing the door.

*

Lenore was knocking on the door bright and early the next morning with an invitation for Megan and Jonathon to join her and her husband for breakfast.

“You never cease to amaze me,” Megan drained the small glass of orange juice. “Your blueberry pancakes are always the best.”

“That’s because I picked the blueberries this morning,” Lenore smiled as she refilled Megan’s juice glass.

“She’s always picking blueberries,” Edward chuckled as he bit into his blueberry pancake.

"If I don't pick them the birds certainly will," Lenore gave her husband a scowl. "Or was it my imagination when I saw you grabbing several handfuls from the basket when I brought them in this morning."

“Guilty as charged,” Edward smiled. “I can’t help it, you know blueberries are my favorite.”

“That makes two of us,” Jonathon helped himself to another pancake before pouring maple syrup on top of it.

“I was thinking we could go shopping this afternoon,” Lenore suggested. “You are planning on going to Gerald and Renee’s wedding shower aren’t you?”

“I was planning to,” Megan nodded. “I’ve already gotten their wedding gift.”

“You have?” Lenore asked. "What did you get them? It's not something too extravagant is it?"

“I’m giving them one of my paintings,” Megan answered without batting an eye. “It’s one of my smaller pieces.”

“Megan,” Lenore stared at Megan in open mouth shock. “Gerald doesn’t know you’re Maureen, are you sure you want to do that?”

“I’m sure,” Megan nodded. “I know I can trust Gerald to keep my secret, besides the piece isn’t one many people will associate with Maureen Withers, at least not yet.”

*

"She's not here," the hooded figure informed his employer as he kicked the glass-top coffee table causing it to shatter.

“What do you mean she’s not there?” a disgruntled voice exclaimed from the phone.

“She’s not here,” the man repeated. “It looks like she hasn’t been here for several days. I’ll trash the place so it looks like a break-in.”

“If you find anything,” the man on the phone hissed.

“Wait I think I found something,” the man picked up an envelope from the trash can. "It’s an invitation of some kind,” the man opened the envelope and scanned the contents. “It’s a wedding invitation.”

“That’s it,” the man on the other side of the phone cried out. “Give me the address, I know where she is.”