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My mind recalls the memory of Boyd sitting next to me, that aroma of man and whiskey and something warm stirring my blood.
“Nope. The flight was calm. I was able to sleep for a little bit. Now I’m just…hanging out in the rental.” I pause. “I’m the only one here right now, but I’m just about to leave to go out with one of my friends.”
I know I’m fibbing. Technically what I said isn’t a lie lie since I am alone at the moment and I’m planning to go out with Boyd, but it isn’t completely honest, either, and I hate having that kind of wall between us.
I just don’t know how mom would respond to having her only child go across the country to see the man who left us.
Well, I guess I’m not really seeing him since he isn’t even here…but that’s not the point.
“Oh, how fun. Well you enjoy yourself, now, and make sure you’re being safe. Did you pack condoms?”
My cheeks flame and I stutter out an awkward laugh.
Mom and I talk about sex. She always wanted us to have open communication about it because she didn’t want me to not use protection and then get pregnant too young, like she did.
But when she double-checks that I have condoms so I can get laid on vacation, I can’t help but feel slightly embarrassed. We talk about sex in the general sense, but it isn’t like we’re exchanging tips on our favorite positions or anything.
“No,” I say through gritted teeth. “I didn’t bring any.”
I assumed I would be spending all of my time with Ken and his family. Why would I need condoms?
Clearly, my forethought was poorly executed, because now all I can think about is the fact that I’m getting together with Boyd tonight and I don’t have anything in case he wants to get physical, which I am so down for.
Right? Am I down to jump in bed with the guy who indulges my ridiculous inability to shut my mouth and has the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard?
I don’t have any rules about sex per se, like a three-date minimum or no hot wax until I know you’re smart enough not to burn my skin. Mostly my position on sex and dating is that if it feels right, it feels right.
I might not have been able to enjoy the pinnacle moment of sex with a man, but that doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy it at all. I can imagine that having Boyd’s big body hovering over mine as he moves inside of me would be something spectacular, orgasm or not.
I’m getting ahead of myself, though. Just because Boyd doesn’t have a girlfriend doesn’t mean he’s interested in getting naked with me, and just because he’s taking me out for drinks doesn’t mean he wants anything more than friendly conversation.
“Well, make sure you stop in somewhere and pick some up. You never know when you might find Mr. Right.” She pauses. “Or Mr. Right There, Yesssssss.”
I slap my hands over my eyes, feeling the heat of embarrassment rush down my neck.
“Alright, I’m getting off the phone now,” I shout over the sound of my mom laughing hysterically in the background. “Loveyoubye.”And then I hang up on her before she can make any more sex noises that will haunt me until the day I die.
Pushing away the conversation with my mother—and the bit of guilt I feel at my intentional dishonesty—I head back to my suitcase and dig around, trying to pick out something comfortable and casual that would also be good for a date.
Is this a date?
Do I want it to be a date?
I nod to myself as I pull out a pair of skinny jeans and a slouchy tank top.
Yes, I do want it to be a date. A man like Boyd doesn’t come around often, so I would be a fool not to take advantage of this absolutely delicious offering that has been placed in my lap.
When I see it’s almost time for him to pick me up, I decide to head out to the road to save him from having to walk the long path all the way to my door.
Slipping on a pair of Toms, I grab my purse and take a look at myself in the mirror by the door before I lock up. Then I wander up the small stone path that forks to both Ken’s house and the driveway.
The man has done well for himself; there’s no denying that. I’m sure houses in tiny towns aren’t nearly as expensive as real estate in large cities, but that doesn’t take away from the life he’s clearly built here.
A lakefront home. A rental property. A wife and two kids.
I’m still angry at him for a lot of reasons, most of them completely justifiable, but at least it seems like he might actually care about this family, enough to give them a comfortable life instead of abandoning them like he did me and mom.
I turn my head away when I walk past the one part of the trail that gives me a view of the inside of the home Ken and Linda live in. I might be here as an unwanted guest on their property, but I’m not trying to intrude on their privacy.
