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Calvin poured Shaw & Smith Sauvignon Blanc into our classy plastic wine glasses. He handed one to each of us. “Cheers.”
“Cheers.” Our plastic cups clunked together with a dull thud. It wasn’t quite the same as a glass. But the wine was still cold, crisp, and delicious. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed a glass of wine. Night shift had done that to me.
Maddox ran off to help Savannah build her sandcastle. The kids giggled as they played in the sand, and Calvin hummed a tune as he rubbed suntan lotion onto Lolita’s back. As I alternated my gaze between each happy member of this family, I vowed that one day I would have this—a family I adored, blissful contentment, and relaxing days on the beach where I could forget life for a while.
“Jane was just telling me that she had sex with a sixty-year-old.”
Calvin’s eyes bulged.
I gasped. “We didn’t have sex, and he wasn’t sixty; he was fifty-nine.”
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Still not having sex, huh?”
I glared at Lolly.
“What?” She huffed. “Cal and I talk about everything. Especially you.”
I wanted to crawl into the sand and have the kids bury me beneath a giant castle.
Calvin sat at the end of Lolly’s deck chair to rub lotion onto her legs. “I think it’s good that you’re experimenting.”
I threw my hands in the air. “Great. Just great. Everyone has an opinion.”
“That’s all we have, babe. Opinions. You’re the one who has choices, and what you’re doing with these men is your choice. The fact that you choose not to have sex with them, just a little pleasure . . .” Again, she said pleasure like she had a plum in her mouth, and I resisted tearing her tongue out, “. . . shows that you’re in control. Though I think that’ll change.”
I frowned. “Why?”
“You’ve already changed a little. You’re more confident and relaxed. This’s good for you. And it’s only going to get better.”
I frowned deeper. Have I changed?
Maybe I needed sex more than I wanted to admit.
“Hell, Jane, what’re you worried about?” Calvin tilted his chiseled chin at me.
It was a good question. Dozens of things were worrying me. But there was one thing that played on my mind over and over. “What if I eventually fall in love, and the man of my dreams finds out what I did?”
“First of all,”—Lolly held up her finger— “you will fall in love one day, and you’re going to be the happiest woman on this beach. Besides me, of course.” She ran her hand over her husband’s bicep.
Calvin leaned over and they kissed. Just a quick, comfortable, loving kiss. “Of course,” he said.
“Second, you’re already twenty-eight.” Lolly sipped her wine.
“Thanks for reminding me.”
“Chances are you’ll fall for a man who is older than you. So, unless he’s a complete loser, he may’ve played the field a bit himself.”
Calvin pointed his beer at me. “You’ll both have to accept that what’s in the past is just that. The past.” I’d never seen Calvin this serious. “It’s the future you need to work on.”
“Well said, honey.” Lolita blew him a kiss.
“I’m hungry.” Savannah raced to Lolly’s side, dusting sand off her hands.
“Savannah! Go over there to brush the sand away.”
As Lolly flicked the grains from her flat stomach, I thought about what they’d said. Maybe there was some benefit to experimenting.
I’d slept with three men in my life. Nearly four. But I couldn’t include Joel Parkinson in my score. We’d dated for five weeks, which was a huge accomplishment for me at that time. I was a late bloomer, and at seventeen, I hadn’t had much more than a quick kiss or two and one great fondle.
