There was now a fourth resident at the McKenzie house. The evidence was in the fourth spoon left on the kitchen table after a late night of talking and ice cream, and Tristan sleeping on the couch in the living room.

It was the morning after the new member arrived and the said visitor was in the family room with Cece. Both of them were standing on their heads, their legs balancing in the air as they took in deep breaths.

Cece had been up before the sun again, she hadn't written a single word in the last two days. Correction, she had written hundreds of words but hadn't kept any of them. She had padded downstairs in search of something to keep her mind and hands busy and had discovered her mother pulling out a yoga mat. Cece had wordlessly grabbed her own mat and joined her mother in the early morning workout.

Yoga was something Cece had tried in one of her bouts with writer's block and while it had done wonders for her balance she had never achieved the coveted peaceful mind so many people had. She was content to join her mother, but even now, standing on her head, the blood falling from her toes, her thoughts still turned to Millie Kate, who definitely did not do yoga.

Cece and her mother were transitioning from standing on their heads into standing on one leg while their body attempted to be a pretzel when Elliot stumbled into the room with a bowl of cereal in her hands. She was still in her pajamas and her hair was messy. She sat on the couch and began to eat her cereal.

"Morning love," Marilyn sang, her voice not affected by the effort it took to hold the complex pose while standing on one foot.

"Morning," Elliot said, her mouth full of Kix. Cece only glanced at her sister but the look made her lose her balance and fall over.

"I see you've roped mother into one of your distractions," Elliot said to her.

"Mother was doing yoga all on her own," Cece corrected her. "I simply joined."

"It's good for jet lag," Marilyn said.

Elliot shook her head like they were both crazy. Elliot's version of yoga consisted of laying in Child's Pose for however long Cece was doing yoga. She was supportive enough to stay by Cece's side but refused to participate.
Cece gave a self-satisfied smile to Elliot as she tried to regain her balance. Elliot scrutinized her for a moment before turning her attention to their mother.

"Mother, has Cece told you about Malcolm?"

Cece glared at her sister. "Elliot," Cece warned.

"The muse?" Marilyn said.

Cece's face turned sour. "No."

"Yes," Elliot grinned. Malcolm had been mentioned in an off-handed way since Marilyn had arrived the day before but Cece hadn't been keen on diving into all the details. She knew her mother's feelings about Malcolm would align with Elliot's and one, Cece didn't need another opposing voice, and two, Elliot didn't need any more support in her hate campaign against Malcolm.

"He is the son of a Senator," Elliot said.

"Well, we can't all be perfect," Marilyn said.

"Politics are as far from perfect as one can get," Elliot rolled her eyes. "Cece is practically the first lady."

Cece snorted. The very thought of any long-term relationship with Malcolm was comical.

"Hardly," she said. "Malcolm's aspirations far outweigh his likability."

"It is an interesting fit for you," Marilyn mused, studying Cece. Cece in turn glowered at Elliot. Elliot had known exactly what she was doing when she had brought Malcolm up.

"I will admit he breaks the mold on the guys I usually date," Cece admitted.

Elliot laughed loudly. "Breaks the mold? More like stomped on the mold on his way to some garden party."

"How did you meet?" Marilyn asked, ignoring the bickering between her daughters.

"We met through his friend Franklin," Cece said.

Marilyn frowned as she thought for a moment. "I don't recall hearing about a friend named Franklin."

Elliot grinned, enjoying herself too much. "They met through karaoke," she started. Cece threw her sister a death glare. Elliot only smiled.

"We were at karaoke. Malcolm's friend Franklin choose an ambitious duet without a partner and when no one answered his call, I stepped in," Cece explained. Marilyn nodded, this story making more sense to her than Cece dating a politician.

"After the song was done, all of Franklin's friends were enthralled by me," Cece continued, "and after hanging out with them all night, Malcolm asked me out. We had our first date the next day."

"I've seen you at karaoke," Cece's mother said. "I understand why they liked you instantly."

Cece smiled gratefully until Elliot nudged her shoulder. "Tell her where he took you on your first date." Cece could hear the humor in Elliot's voice.

"The State House?" Marilyn joked.

"Nantucket, on his father's boat," Elliot answered for Cece.

Marilyn's eyes shot up. "That is quite a date." Cece shrugged like all her first dates included a private boat ride to a small island.

"You could say that again," Elliot laughed. "I only believed Cece after she showed me photos."

It was true. Cece had returned home from her first date with Malcolm floating on cloud nine. True, half of the rapture had been due to the luxurious boat and dreamy atmosphere of Nantucket, but Malcolm had been charming, attentive, and laughed in amazement at all of Cece's jokes.

Elliot had been waiting on the front steps dying to find out how it went and as Cece had begun to unfold her afternoon Elliot had rolled her eyes at what she thought was a fantastical story until Cece shown her the pictures.

Cece thought back to those first days a lot, especially lately when all she wanted to do was clobber Malcolm over the head. But there had been a spark between them. He had whisked her into his world of luxury and she had provided comical commentary every step of the way. Their lifestyles were both foreign to each other and that had been part of the charm. But one can only attend so many garden parties and boat regattas before the sight of crab cakes made you nauseous.

By the time Cece had realized Malcolm wasn't the one for her, she had also discovered he was her muse. After their first date, Cece had come home and written one and a half chapters that night. She was producing more for her book than she ever had.

At first, she didn't make the connection between her writing and Malcolm. But as his lifestyle began to turn stale, she had said no to an event, using the excuse of her writing, and had spent the whole night staring at a blank computer screen.

Right away her mind made the connection but she tried to talk herself out of it. She ran two more experiments, excusing herself from hanging out with Malcolm to test the insane theory, and both times the nights had been wasted without a single word put to paper. But every time she spent time with Malcolm she couldn't stop the words from pouring out, so Cece stayed. At least until the traitor ditched her.

"...these garden parties, these people are from a different world," Elliot said, regaling their mother with all the horrors Cece had put her through.

"And don't get me started on the regatta last month." Elliot's eye roll was so extreme her whole body seemed to roll back.

"You weren't complaining when you got free food and a chance to practice your British accent," Cece argued.

"Crab cakes can only cover so many sins," Elliot said. "Everything was so prim and proper and I've never had so many conversations about nothing. I swear, these people have discovered a new way to talk." Elliot was right on the point. Cece had never known there were so many different ways to discuss the weather, but Malcolm and his parties had opened her eyes.

Cece glanced at her mother, trying to gauge her reaction to all the horror stories Elliot was telling, and found her mother giving her the same look. Cece was both curious to know what her mother was seeing and scared to find out.

"The society might be extreme and different but Malcolm really isn't..." Cece said.

"Don't get me started on Mr. President," Elliot said, interrupting her sister. "The parties and food wouldn't be half as bad if I didn't have to interact with Malcolm."

Cece scoffed. "Interact? No one would call throwing out a lame excuse and walking away the moment Malcolm appeared an 'interaction'."

"They would if they had to interact with Mr. President," Tristan mumbled, appearing in the doorway. His hair was going in five different directions and he still looked half asleep. He stumbled his way to the couch and plopped down next to Elliot. Cece glared at both her siblings.

"Really mother, you've never met anyone who..." Elliot started, her energy strengthened with Tristan on her side.

Cece could see she wouldn't win two against one and went on the offensive. "Mother have you met Wendy?" Cece asked. Even in his half comatose state, Tristan managed to pull enough energy together to glare at Cece. "She's your new daughter-in-law. Or at least that's what she thinks." Unfortunately for Cece, her mother didn't take the bait and remained silent.

"Did you know Malcolm is going to be a politician?" Tristan countered, his annoyance waking him up.

"Elliot already spilled those beans," Cece said. "Wendy is the principal dancer in Tristan's new ballet, and Tristan is dating her."

"Malcolm's father is a senator," Tristan said.

"Wendy thinks she and Tristan are engaged."

"Malcolm is studying business at Harvard."

The two siblings went back and forth, throwing out the worst details about each other's significant others. Elliot looked at her mother with a resigned look, as if accepting they were the only sane people in the house. Marilyn stood and rolled up her yoga mat. Tristan and Cece only stopped arguing when they noticed Marilyn leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" Cece asked.
"To shower," Marilyn said, giving a cheery wave to her kids before she left the room.

All three siblings looked at each other, feeling reprimanded and blaming each other for it.

"Why did you have to bring Wendy up?" Tristan hissed.

"Why did you side with Elliot?" Cece argued back.

"Because Mr. President is the worst," he said.

"He really is," Elliot beamed victoriously.

Cece pointed an accusing finger at her. "You started this."

"Don't get mad at her because your boyfriend is lame," Tristan chastised Cece.

"You're one to talk about lame boyfriends/girlfriends," Cece laughed.

"We're done," Elliot said, standing up. She gave both her siblings pointed looks before heading to the kitchen, calling, "pancakes?" over her shoulder.

"As long as Cece isn't the one making them," Tristan laughed.

"Excuse me," Cece said, playfully jabbing her brother in the arm. "I make excellent pancakes."

"You do," Tristan agreed, "when you aren't trying to get fancy and adding weird things."

"I do not..."

"Skittles," Elliot called from the kitchen.

"Cashews," Tristan said.

"Spinach."

"Potato chips."

"Sunflower seeds."

"Ground beef." This one drew disgusted looked from all three siblings.

"I was attempting a savory pancake," Cece argued, flopping into one of the kitchen chairs.

"Savory pancake?" Elliot said, shaking her head in disapproval. "Two words that should never be paired."

"Peanut butter cups," Tristan added.
"Okay, those were amazing!" Elliot said, her eyes gleaming romantically with just the memory.

"See, sometimes I have good ideas," Cece said.

Tristan and Elliot both ceded a nod.

"True," Tristan said, "but the peanut butter cups were only a few months ago. With your track record, we won't see anything close to that level of genius for another year or so. Let Elliot make the pancakes."

"Fine," Cece said, sitting back in her seat as her siblings began to pull ingredients from the cabinets.

An hour later, the kitchen table was littered with plates covered in syrup and mostly empty coffee cups. What had started as a heaping pile of "very normal" pancakes had dwindled to only a few.

"That was wonderful!" Marilyn said, standing first and collecting everyone's plates. Tristan, Cece, and Elliot followed suit, grabbing utensils and toppings from the table and putting them where they belonged.

"What's next on the agenda?" Marilyn asked.

"I have rehearsal in an hour," Tristan said.

"And I have suppressed emotions I have to deal with," Elliot said.

"Jesse's!" she added quickly when her mom and siblings looked at her in shock. "I have to deal with Jesse's suppressed emotions."

"And you?" Marilyn asked Cece.

"Malcolm is still out of the country and I haven't written in three days, so I'm very busy, but I will put aside all my work to spend time with you," Cece said.

"What a sacrifice," her mother joked. "I knew you were my favorite child."

Tristan cleared his throat and gave Marilyn a questioning look. She gave him a reassuring wink and Elliot and Cece shared an eye-roll. The sisters had come to accept that Tristan was their mother's favorite child even though they didn't understand why. Cece was convinced that if their mother just lived with Tristan for a week and experienced his erratic moods and schedules she would change her mind.

"What shall we do?" Marilyn asked Cece.

"It's been a while since you've been in Boston. How about a Sample Walk?" Cece suggested.

Marilyn's eyes lit up. "That's a marvelous idea!"

Cece smiled. She knew her mother would like the idea and she also knew the activity would take up most of their morning, which meant less time she had to be banging her head on her keyboard.

**********************************************************************

Heyo Cheerio!

That's it! I'm making Marylin adopt me!

Why? You hate yoga.

Yes, but she's kind and supportive and I feel like with her I would enjoy it...or I'd get comfortable on a couch!

Well I definitely didn't base Elliot's attitude towards yoga on yours.

Awww! You based Elliot on me? I feel so honored.

🙄

What?! I was paying a compliment!

I don't see it but let's just end this author's note and pretend I do.

Dot, domment, dollow!