4. Marina

4

MARINA

M arina attacked the bathroom tiles with a vengeance, scrubbing at nonexistent spots as if they had personally offended her. The sharp scent of cleaning products made her eyes water, but she couldn't stop. Peter's mother would be here in less than three hours, and that wasn't enough time to make everything perfect.

If there was even a speck of dust anywhere in the house, Marina was sure that Peter's mother would spot it with her immortal vision and use it to put her down.

"You missed a spot," she muttered to herself, spraying more cleaning fluid on the already gleaming surface.

Did immortals even care about things like that?

The Kra-ell had, and Marina had gotten scolded more than once when her cleaning hadn't been up to their standards. Naturally, it had also resulted in a loss of privileges and a cut in her allowance.

In her experience, the immortals were not as cruel, and Wonder had forgiven her many mishaps, but then she wasn't about to marry Wonder's son. Peter's mother considered her an inadequate bride, and she wasn't wrong.

From the bedroom, she could hear Alfie packing up his things, humming some upbeat tune that only heightened her anxiety. At least he had somewhere to escape to. He'd be staying with two other Guardians while Peter's mother occupied his room for an entire week after the wedding.

A whole damn week.

Marina's hand stilled on the tiles as the reality of that sank in again. She'd given up having a honeymoon to accommodate Peter's new position as head of the Avengers, and now, instead of enjoying private newlyweds' time with her husband, she'd be stuck playing hostess to her mother-in-law.

Why had Peter agreed to host his mother in their house?

Not that his mother had given him a choice. When he'd called to invite her to the wedding, she'd said she would come for the weekend and stay with a good friend, but after booking her flight, she'd called to inform him that she would be staying until next Sunday and that she wanted to stay with him and his bride so she could get to know Marina better.

What could Peter have done? Said no?

Well, yeah. If her mother had made such an unreasonable demand, Marina definitely would have told her that it wouldn't work and that she should find another solution. In fact, her parents and Larissa were arriving in the afternoon, and they were staying at a house that Ingrid had prepared for them.

The sound of a drawer closing in the bedroom jolted Marina out of her thoughts, and she returned to the task, rinsing the tiles one more time.

Alfie poked his head into the bathroom. "Did I really leave it that dirty? You've been in there for over an hour."

"Not at all." Well, it had been only surface clean, and barely that either, but she wasn't going to say that. Marina straightened and stretched her aching back. "I just want everything to be spotless for Catrina."

"Oh, I see." He ran his fingers through his hair. "She's not as bad as you think."

That didn't sound encouraging at all. He hadn't said she was nice or that she shouldn't worry about her, just that the female wasn't that bad.

"I know." Marina forced a smile. "I'm just nervous."

"Understandable." Alfie slung the strap of his duffle bag over his shoulder. "I'm off. I guess I'll see you at the wedding." He walked over and gave her a quick, one-armed hug. "Try to relax, okay?"

She forced another smile. "I will try."

Right .

As soon as Alfie was gone, she rushed to the linen closet and pulled out a change of bedding. He'd offered to do that, but she preferred to do it herself to make sure everything was perfect.

The entire house had to be scrubbed from top to bottom, every surface polished, every corner dusted, every pillow fluffed to maximum fluffiness. Yet she knew it wouldn't be enough.

The real problem wasn't how clean the house was or how tasty the roast Marina had made for the occasion would be. Meeting her mother-in-law along with her very human, elderly parents was a testament to Marina's mortality, and that was something she couldn't erase.

She straightened up, catching sight of herself in the spotless mirror. Her face was flushed from exertion, her hair escaping its messy ponytail, and her old t-shirt was spotted with cleaning solution.

"You can't clean away the fact that you're human," she told her reflection.

No amount of scrubbing would change the fact that she wasn't immortal and wouldn't be transitioning. Peter's mother would never accept a human wife for her son, no matter what Marina did to impress her .

"Hey, cleaning lady!" Lusha's voice rang out from the hallway. "Where are you hiding?"

"In here," Marina called back.

Lusha appeared in the doorway and let out a low whistle. "I think I can see my reflection in those tiles."

"How did you know that I was cleaning? Did you see Alfie leaving?"

Lusha chuckled. "I could smell the Pine-Sol from the walkway. You know that stuff gives immortals headaches, right?"

Marina's eyes widened in horror. "Oh, dear Mother of All Life, I didn't think—I need to air out the house?—"

"Relax." Lusha grabbed her arm before she could rush past. "I'm kidding about the Pine-Sol. But, immortals don't like strong smells of any kind, so go easy on the perfume as well."

Marina shook her head. "I'm not in the mood for jokes. I'm going out of my mind with stress."

Lusha's smile slid off her face, and she looked Marina up and down critically. "What you really need to worry about is yourself. You look like you're auditioning for a cleaning service commercial."

"I just want everything to be perfect."

"If you want to impress Peter's mother, you need to stop acting like the maid and start acting like the lady of the house." Lusha steered her toward the door. "Go take a shower—in one of your other pristine bathrooms—and put on something nice. I'll finish changing the bedding."

"But—"

"No buts. You can inspect my work later if you don't trust me to make a neat bed. Right now, you need to apply all that nervous energy to making yourself look good. You need to project confidence and poise, not desperation."

Marina hesitated. "My parents and Larissa are arriving later this afternoon."

"All the more reason to get yourself together." Lusha started pushing her toward the master bedroom. "Where are they staying?"

"Ingrid prepared a house for them."

"That's great. Give me the address so I can stop by and say hello."

A thought struck Marina, making her stop short. "Maybe I could visit them and stay away from this house as long as Peter is not here. I don't want to be stuck with his mother without him running interference for me."

"You can escape for a little bit when you feel like you can't take it anymore, but don't overdo it." Lusha's tone was serious. "You can't show fear by running away from your own house. Immortals are predators, and when they sniff fear, they pounce."

Marina frowned. "Really? Because that wasn't my impression. Everyone I meet is nice to me. But then I'm not marrying their son, so they don't have skin in the game."

Lusha laughed. "That's because you are not afraid of them. You are the mate of a well-liked Guardian who has just been promoted to head a new division. No one would dare to mess with you."

"Well, that's not true. The Kra-ell?—"

"Marina." Lusha gripped her shoulders, meeting her eyes. "I know you're nervous, but you need to snap out of it. You didn't kidnap Peter or put a gun to his head, forcing him to marry you. He chose you, and his mother needs to respect his choice. If she has any brains in her head, she will realize that you are the one who holds real power here, and that antagonizing you might cost her the relationship she has with her son."

"I would never?—"

"I know that." Lusha's eyes softened. "You are a sweetheart. But Peter's mother doesn't know, and as long as you project confidence, she will be afraid to try anything and will be on her best behavior."

What Lusha was saying actually made a lot of sense. Bullies went after those they deemed weak.

Marina took a shaky breath. "When did you get so smart?"

"I've always been wise. You've just been too busy cleaning to notice." Lusha winked. "Now go get ready. And wear that blue dress—the one that makes you look like you could command armies."

"I don't have an army-commanding dress."

"Trust me, you do. Blue dress, subtle makeup, and those pearl earrings Peter gave you. Once I've done your hair, you will look like a boss lady."

Marina snorted. "A blue-haired boss?"

"Why not?"

Why not, indeed?