Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 75496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75496 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 377(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
“You didn’t have to.”
We chatted and joked around while we drove to the fish store. He seemed a little more open around me than he used to be, like he’d let some of his guard down. I didn’t figure Marcus ever let all his defenses down with anyone, not even the Beach Bums, so I was honored he’d given me some.
There were only a couple of people in the fish store when we arrived, thankfully, since we’d gotten there so early. I went right up to one of the employees, with Marcus beside me. He was a hoverer, I’d noticed, which was both surprising and amazing.
“Can I help you?” the woman asked.
“Yeah, we have a blue tang, and I think they’re sick. I’m going to get the stuff to transfer them to another tank so we don’t risk the other fish, but I wanted to see if you have any other suggestions.”
“I took some video of how they’ve been acting compared to the others,” Marcus added. He pulled his phone out and showed the woman the footage he’d taken.
“Any changes for them?”
“I moved a couple of weeks ago. I considered that, but I figured if that was the problem, they would have acted differently right away.”
“Yes and no. Or maybe you didn’t notice. There are a lot of things it could be. It’s definitely smart to separate them. It could be bacterial as well. Oh, yep, look. You see those small white spots? It looks like it might have Ich.”
She said that as if I should know, but I’d never heard of it. When she went to get what I needed for it, I told Marcus, “I feel like a bad fish daddy. I don’t even know what that is.”
“You’re not a bad fish daddy,” he said, and when our gazes caught, we burst into laughter. It wasn’t every day I heard someone like Marcus say fish daddy. I wished he’d say it again so I could record him. When he settled down, he said, “It’s impossible to know every little thing it could be. Everyone gets sick.”
“Yes, I know. You already went all realist on me and told me that eventually my fish will die.”
“Stop being a little monster. I’m just saying don’t feel bad.”
“I have a feeling if the situation were reversed and these were your fish, you would. You hold yourself to different standards than everyone else.”
“Yes.” He shrugged as if that was perfectly normal. “See? I don’t lie.”
The woman came back with a medication bottle and explained how to use it. Marcus asked questions because that was how Marcus was. Eventually, I left him to it while I started picking out the things I needed for another small tank. It wasn’t going to be cheap, which stressed me out. This was the hard part of living in a place like Santa Monica. I was living paycheck to paycheck, so the smallest thing could set me back. I looked forward to that not being the case in Atlanta.
Marcus joined me as I was making my way to the counter, too much in my arms. He took some of it while I showed them which tank I wanted. I’d also purchased salt water, so there were several five-gallon jugs waiting for me. When they gave me the total, I felt his gaze on me, knew he wanted to offer to help, and I appreciated that he didn’t, knowing it was just because he knew I wouldn’t want that.
“Thank you,” I said as we made our way outside.
“For what?”
“I know how hard that was for you, so…thank you.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied, but we both knew he did.
“Liar, liar, pants on fire.”
“Get in the car.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He rolled his eyes at me like he so often did. He put all the supplies in, and then we returned to his house. We spent the morning setting up the new tank, getting it warm, testing levels and all. No matter how many times I told Marcus he didn’t have to help, he continued to. It was after lunch when we had Blue in the new tank, having treated both tanks to kill the bacteria. None of the other fish seemed to be affected yet, but they very well could be soon.
When we were finished, I told him, “I’m making you lunch. And then we’re going to play in the ocean.” He already took the day off, so why not?
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No,” he countered again.
“I don’t know why you pretend to argue with me, baby.” Because the truth was, Marcus might want to be gruff, but there wasn’t anything he wouldn’t do for anyone. He proved it with his friends daily—not that I saw myself on the same level as them.
“Can you even cook?”
“I’m gonna act like you didn’t say that.” I went into the kitchen. “I love to cook. I was always cooking with my mama. I might not have been to the South, but I love me some soul food. Chicken and waffles work?”