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The car had barely had time to turn on before her phone started ringing, the bluetooth connection taking a second to finalize with the stereo as she tried to fumble for the buzzing, singing block in her pocket. She adjusted the volume via the steering wheel’s controls as Dyna’s voice came to life all around her in the blue sedan.
“Hello?” Melanie asked, unsure if the bluetooth had fully connected or not.
“Hey gorgeous, bad news,” Dyna’s voice returned loudly as she lowered the volume further. “Mark just called, not sure if it’s a burst pipe or someone fucked up one of our toilets at the gym, but women’s washroom is a pool and I gotta go deal with that. Need a rain check on the lunch date."
“Oh shit,” the short-haired woman groaned. She let herself fall heavily back against the driver’s seat, ‘so much for a Big Day’. “That’s fair, girl, you do what you gotta do. We can reschedule for another time.”
“I hope this doesn’t wrench your plans for the day or anything! You should still head out and do some things for yourself, I know you were looking forward to it."
“Thanks Dee, I appreciate it, but I think I’m gonna head back in and take a nap,” she said defeatedly. “Was feeling a bit off today anyway, I’m alright to postpone. Catching up on sleep would probably be a smart idea anyway.”
“That sounds good, girl. Tell the Big Guy I said hi,” Dee replied with a laugh.
“He hates when you call him that,” Melanie stressed, shaking her head. “But I’ll let him know. Good luck and god speed with the shit swamp.”
“Thanks babe, and tell him if he didn’t hate it so much I wouldn’t bother saying it!”
The call disconnected and Melanie reached forward to remove the key, sighing as she rested in the quiet. It wasn’t Dyna or the gym bathroom’s fault that her plans were askew. She had been hoping to have a day to go be Big and loud and clumsy outside of the house for over a week, but nightmares and indigestion had had her tossing and turning most of the night. She had felt even since this morning that today was likely to be a wash.
She picked up her purse from the passenger seat and slung it back over her shoulder, exiting the car to head back to the house. Sleeping off the disappointment was probably the best plan, and it still gave Henry a chance to be- at least mostly- alone for a few hours.
“Change of plans,” she called in her regular speaking voice as she re-entered the house, kicking off her shoes in the small entry hall and heading toward the door to his room, tapping on the door frame. “Dyna’s got an emergency at the gym, so we’re rescheduling. I was gonna take a nap for a few hours and see how I’m feeling after that, if that works for you?”
There was a suspicious level of silence that returned to her, and Melanie’s brow furrowed as she waited. She checked the time on her phone again; she’d been out of the house less than 15 minutes, and last she had spoken to him he was on the way back to his room to hit the head and work on some journaling for the early afternoon. That was maybe a half hour ago, before she finished getting ready.
“Henry?” Her voice called as she stepped away from his room slowly, her eyes scanning the floor for the 7-inch tall man, her eyes moving up the stairs as she waited to hear the call of his mariner’s whistle. The longer the silence went on, the more suspicious she became.
She walked to the landing between the stairs to the main floor and the stairs to the basement, calling the small sailor’s name one last time at the center of the split-level home. There was no way she wouldn’t hear the whistle from there.
A sigh erupted from her, and she carefully pulled the purse from her shoulder to the front of her, moving to unzip the top.
Henry grimaced as the roof of his hiding place opened, light spilling into the space he occupied in the black-fabric lining. His eyes shot up to see hers, the massive hazel irises darting until her pupils landed on him. “To be fair,” he called defensively, guilt already creeping up on him as her eyes moved up and away to the ceiling, a breathy swear leaving her giant form, “I was expecting you to put the purse down once you were back inside.”
“Henry,” she groaned, holding the purse open with one hand while the other slipped in, his hands guiding it to him carefully. Her thumb and fingers slid around him gently, his arms pressing down over the tops of them as he patted the back of her hand in signal that he was ready for the lift. “How?” She asked quietly and unamused as she pulled him out of the purse, letting the bag swing back under her arm as she let it go.
“Which part?” He asked after an uncomfortable hesitation, waiting for her other hand to come help support him as his feet dangled in the open air, his arms tensing. She tipped her hand back slightly, letting him push and move himself into a seated position in her palm, her other hand resting on her hip as she refused to help him.
“I made sure the purse was closed so this wouldn’t happen again,” she explained with a sigh, watching him adjust himself awkwardly until his legs were dangling over the heel of her palm. Color came to his cheeks as he guiltily locked eyes with her, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he battled with himself over whether he should give away his secret. “Henry,” she prompted tiredly.
He was busted, he knew it. If she had gone to lunch and other things, he probably would’ve been safe to escape and move to her coat like he had initially planned, or she would’ve gone through her usual routine of putting her purse down on the basement couch before going to the washroom when she returned, giving him time to get out and move to somewhere less conspicuous.
“You leave the front pocket open for your keys,” he admitted quietly, his eyes breaking from hers and glancing around the room, “and the tear I made the first time was never repaired, so I slipped in through there.” His arm flew out to grab her thumb quickly as her hand swung to the side, her free hand coming up to rub her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said, squirming as he watched the upset look come over her face.
“You know why I don’t like this happening without my consent,” she said, her eyes opening again to look at him disappointedly. “It’s dangerous if I don’t know you’re in there.”
“I know,” he admitted defensively, his eyes moving again to meet hers, “but! I trusted that you would take your purse along like you normally would, and I know that you usually stop back at the house between lunch and any other plans for the day.”
Her eyebrows raised over a sharp expression; his calm explanation of how he had determined how safe this particular venture was going to be seemed to obviously not have the effect he wanted it to have on her. Air rushed into her as she took a long, steadying breath, her hand moving from her forehead slowly. He pointed to it with a timid expression, trying to wave it closer to him. For one, he could use a bit of extra support this high off of the ground, and for two, he knew if he could touch her a bit more, he could soothe her temper a bit. “The idea that you planned this really isn’t making me feel better about any of it,” she leveled.
“I know,” he said again, still trying to gently coax her hovering hand toward him, “but–”
“No,” she said firmly, sighing again, “there’s no ‘buts’ here. Sometimes I want time to myself, the same as you do, so I don’t have to worry about things like if I’m going to accidentally hurt you somehow or that I’m being too loud, or just…”
“Melanie,” his voice called soothingly to her as her eyes dropped to the floor, her shoulders sagging. “I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean to upset you.” Henry’s hand gripped at her thumb lightly, trying to rub it comfortingly while maintaining as much support from it as he could. Her eyes moved back up to him over a glum expression; she was disappointed, more than mad, and it stung him. “Can I have your other hand, please?” He asked meekly.
The ‘please’ did its magic and she caved almost instantly, her other hand sweeping toward him gently as he guided her thumb to his chest, her fingers wrapping around her others behind him and closing around him gently. She softened but still didn’t smile as his arms moved to coil around her thumb tightly, hugging it to himself. “If the only way you were going to avoid upsetting me was by not being caught, I don’t think that counts as not meaning to,” she leveled quietly again.
He sighed, fidgeting under her words and tone. “You’re right,” he admitted, “I should’ve given you your space for the day.”
“Thank you,” she breathed, her tone still unhappy but her mood lightening just a little. He shifted his legs, pushing her thumb up his body a bit more so he could lean forward and rest his face along the side of it. His eyes turned up to try and work their charm.
“Do you think I could be forgiven, this time?” He asked teasingly as he saw the color come to her face, grinning as her thumb wiggled against his beard and cheek, his arms squeezing it tighter. Her breath gently washed over him as she sighed again, lifting him up closer to her eye level.
“You’re too much trouble, you know that?” She asked, smirking.
“I wouldn’t say I’m too much trouble,” he drawled, his eyes arching away as he feigned innocence. She scoffed, making him laugh while she slipped her thumb out from his grasp, her hands moving position to help him stand in her palm.
“I would,” she retorted, her eyes looking around the room and landing on the bookshelf next to them, walking in front of it once he was stable. Her eyes scanned the top shelf, idly. “I could probably find a way to keep you out of trouble, though.”
He smirked at her, turning around to follow her gaze. “Can you even see what’s up there?” He asked her, teasingly, and she crooked a finger to wiggle against his side playfully.
“Don’t make fun,” she quipped as he giggled from the tickle. Whenever he could, he tried to make fun of her height. “I can’t see the titles of the books up there, no,” she admitted after trying to get on her tiptoes.
“I can check them,” he offered with a laugh, “I’m taller than you, after all. It’s the least I can do.”
She spread a sly grin behind him as he looked at the top shelf. “Alright, if you say so,” she said, stepping toward the shelf and raising her hands over her head carefully, Henry reaching out to grab the ledge and letting Melanie push his feet and legs up level with the shelf, walking over toward the books as she stepped back to watch him.
“Are you sure one of these is going to be useful?” He called tauntingly from the shelf as he walked from end to end, checking the titles. “I don’t see how any of them would be helpful in keeping me out of trouble.”
“They’re all doing a good job right now,” her voice called back mischievously. Henry’s brow furrowed as he turned to look down at her, watching her cross her arms under a smug expression.
“What do you–?” He started to ask as she turned and started heading for the stairs, his mouth falling open as he staggered to try and follow her.
“I’m heading to nap,” she called softly. “You’re in time-out until then.”
“That’s not funny,” he shouted, panic slightly setting in as he looked at the immense distance back to the ground, stepping back further from the ledge instinctively.
“Neither was you stowing away again,” her voice came back, her footsteps reverberating as she took the highest set of stairs to the top floor. “See you later.”
“Melanie?” He called as he heard her footsteps walking farther away from above him. “Melanie!” He shouted as he heard her bedroom door close.
Henry looked around the long shelf, taking in the books, the dust, and the odd artistic sculptures on either end with a long sigh. “…Well, I suppose I deserve this.”