Maybe I'll Get It Right Someday

I woke up early one Monday morning after the sky dumped about a 300 tons of snow on Minnesota (Tilly had a snow day because of it), and lifted Justin's arm off of my waist, careful not to wake him. He stirred a little, but didn't open his eyes. I gathered some clothes and went to take a shower.

After I had been standing under the stream of water for about two minutes, the temperature changed. It started getting cold, so I turned the cold water down. But that didn't work. I turned the cold water off completely, and it was still cold. The bathroom door opened. "I hope you don't mind me in here, Lori," Justin said. "I just have to brush my teeth."

"No, it's fine," I told him. "You should come over here and put your hand under the water."

"What? Why?"

I sighed impatiently. "Just do it."

Justin walked over, shut his eyes tightly, and put his arm through the curtain. "Holy shit!" he exclaimed. "Turn the hot water on!"

"I only have the hot water on," I said. "Isn't that rediculous?"

He opened his eyes and stared at me. "Fucking rediculous," he agreed. "I didn't know it was that cold outside. It almost never affects the water heater. You should probably just come out and dry off. You'll get chilled." He unfolded my towel and held it out. I hesitantly stepped out of the shower and into the towel, which Justin wrapped around me. He kissed my forehead. "I'll leave."

When I emerged from the bathroom in clean clothes with my hair still dripping wet, Justin was sitting on the couch flipping channels. "There's nothing on TV," he complained. "Why did you get dressed? I liked you the way you were when I was in the bathroom with you."

"Shut your face," I joked, whacking him with my towel before bringing it to the laundry room in the basement.

Tilly came out of her room and sat on the couch with Justin while I was in the basement. When I got back upstairs, I saw that she was not wearing her expensive glasses. "Til, where are your glasses?" I asked.

"I don't feel like wearing them," she replied.

"You should go put your glasses on, Matilda," Justin said. She glared at him.

"Fuck you," Til hissed. "You can't tell me what to do; I don't care how old and ugly you are!"

"Matilda Harper, go to your room," I said sternly, pointing in the direction of her room.

"Fine." Matilda skulked to her bedroom.

I sat next to Justin and cried. "What's the matter?" he asked, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me close.

"What is going on with her?" I sniffled. "Do you know what she just said to you?"

"I know. Onset of puberty, maybe?"

"I don't know, Justin. It's ten fucking days until Christmas. She doesn't even believe in Santa Clause anymore." I sobbed into Justin's shoulder and he held me with both arms, kissing the top of my head.

"I'll go in and talk to her in a few minutes," Justin suggested. "I have a feeling I know what might work."

"Nothing's going to work," I groaned. Justin rubbed my back. "She's just not little anymore. She's figured out that she doesn't have to like me."

"It's okay. She'll straighten out. I remember not being terribly fond of my parents around that time, too. I'm glad I've got parents, now. Just, let me talk to her."

"All right." Justin got up and went to Matilda's room, then came out a few minutes later. "What happened?" I asked.

"I told her she's got to straighten up or she doesn't get the fantastic Christmas present I promised her," Justin said, smiling and reclaiming his spot on the couch.

"What's the present?" I asked.

"I can't tell you. It's a secret. By the way, we can go pick out a kitten tomorrow."

I was so excited.