Page 61 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
Glamma cooed at her and picked her up to settle in her arms.
“Alright, let’s compare answers,” Glamma said, settling in.
Delaney lifted a hand. “I’d like to formally state that this doesn’t?—”
“No,” Gladys interrupted.
“What do you meanno? I didn’t even finish what I was going to say.”
Gladys raised an eyebrow. “No.”
Delaney turned to Glamma.
Glamma smiled sweetly.
Goldie held up the first card like she was presenting evidence in a case she’d already won. “We’ll start easy. How does your partner take their coffee?”
I exhaled. This was ridiculous. “Delaney takes it with oat milk,” I said, feeling like that was enough.
Martha cleared her throat and rolled her hand to tell me to keep going.
“With two sugars. And cinnamon on top if it’s available.” I should have stopped there, but clearly common sense had left me. “And when she’s mad, she stirs it counterclockwise.”
Silence.
Goldie’s mouth fell open. “Counterclockwise. That is very specific.”
Delaney’s head snapped up. “What? I don’t?—”
“Yes, you do,” I said. Because facts were facts and if I was going down, I was going down with accuracy. “I’ve observed you when you didn’t know I was there. When you’re not angry, you stir normally. When you are, it’s counterclockwise. Notably aggressively counterclockwise.”
“That’s not—I’m not—” She made a strangled sound. “That’s just how I stir.”
I shook my head.
Goldie clapped both hands over her mouth.
Glamma pressed a hand to her heart like I’d recited the poetry of the century.
Delaney’s jaw dropped, and her eyes narrowed as though I’d just admitted I’d been reading her diary. She pressed her lips together hard and glanced away.
Martha held up her clipboard. “Delaney’s answer about Marc’s coffee.”
Delaney’s jaw tightened. “Black. Not too hot. He waits exactly two minutes before drinking it.”
I went still. “You timed me?”
“I didn’ttimeyou. I was texting a friend and I happened to look over and noticed—” She stopped herself. “It’s not like I wasstudyingyou.”
Goldie made a noise like she was physically restraining herself from shrieking.
Martha leaned back in her chair. “This is even better than my soaps, and I have been watchingThe Young and the Restlessfor thirty-one years.”
“Next.” Gladys fanned herself with a card. “Favorite color.”
I went first again. Of course.
“Delaney’s favorite color isn’t purple,” I kept my eyes on the table. “She loves it. It’s a close second, but her actual favorite color is dark blue. Like the winter sky. She wears it when she wants to go unnoticed.”
