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“Sure.” I gulp my wine. “But I should warn you, it’s probably been used.”
Lily’s elation deflates like a balloon. “Seriously?”
“Yeah, like once or something? Especially if it’s a prototype,” I explain.
“Prototype?”
“Yeah. Sometimes my mom tests out products before they hit the market.”
“So your mom might’ve used this?” Lily peels it off her finger and drops it on the coffee table.
“Uh, it’s possible? I mean, it could’ve come out of the package, but I have no way of knowing, unless you want me to ask her.”
“That’s okay. If they have them at the sex show, I’ll buy one there.”
“I don’t think Miller would like that very much,” Sunny says, thoughtfully. “He’s not a fan of spiders.”
“Understandable, really.” Violet smiles behind her glass.
“Ever since he had his scrotum drained after that spider bite, he makes me get rid of all the eight-legged creatures. I don’t kill them, though. I always take them outside when he’s not looking.”
“Whoa, Miller had his—“ Poppy motions to her groin area. “—drained?”
“Oh my God! I forgot that was pre-Poppy days! So when Miller and I were still trying to figure things out, he went up to a Canadian hockey camp with Randy and they volunteered to train with the kids. It’s so sweet, and special, really. But Miller was bitten by a spider, and he had an allergic reaction.”
“His balls were the size of my boobs.” Violet motions to her girls.
“Well, not quite that big, but there’s a picture somewhere out there. They were very swollen. So he had to have them drained,” Sunny explains.
“That’s just . . . awful.”
“It was. Poor baby. Anyway. His balls are fine now, obviously.” Sunny pats her belly.
We half pay attention to the game while the girls exchange stories about the beginnings of their relationships. Which are a lot different than the way Darren and I started.
Chicago wins the first game. We all pick up our phones and send congratulatory messages that won’t be seen for a while yet. Half an hour later, phones chime around us with replies. Sunny excuses herself to take a call from Miller. Lily gets a message from Randy asking if she’s alone. Violet and Poppy both field short calls, and I sit with my phone in my hand, waiting for something, anything.
Eventually I get a message. It’s simple. Short. A thank you. I remind myself that Darren doesn’t engage in extensive texting, and any response is a good one. Most of the time it’s enough, but in this moment it makes me feel a little too different, like I don’t quite fit and maybe never will. I used to be fine with that. Tonight it makes my heart ache.CHARLENE
The following afternoon, Lily picks me and Violet up at my place since she stayed the night.
I follow Violet outside and hit the lock button on the door—Darren didn’t feel my previous lock set was sufficient, so he had a keypad installed with a code and an alarm system. It’s another way I know he cares and wants to keep me safe. Although my neighborhood is pretty quiet. It’s mostly older couples and a few young families.
I start down the front walk and scream at the sight of a mini Winnebago—the kind one pulls behind a car—parked in my driveway. “Holy fuck!” I rush back to the door and punch the keypad, but I’m too frantic to get it right, so it squawks at me in protest.
“Oh shit—” Violet mutters. “I should’ve warned you, but I figured you already knew it was here.
I shield my eyes. “Where did that come from? Why is it here? Who’s in it?”
“I think it’s your mom’s?”
I stop freaking out. “What?”
“It was here when I came over yesterday, and the SUV it was hooked up to is gone, so it’s just a guess. But I’m thinking it’s a pretty solid one. Are you going to be okay?”
“What?” It feels a lot like I can’t breathe properly. “Oh. Oh yeah. I’m fine.”
“Should we go?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Sure.” I’ve taken two shuffly, unsteady steps down the walkway when the alarm goes off in the house. “Shit. Hold on.”
By the time I get the door unlocked, the alarm company is calling. I explain that I accidently hit the wrong code, give them all the personal details they require to ensure someone hasn’t broken into my house and taken me hostage, and lock up a second time.
I keep my eyes averted as I speed walk to Lily’s truck—well, technically it’s Randy’s truck, but she always drives it when he’s out of town—and throw myself into the backseat.
“I didn’t know you were a camper,” Sunny says from the front seat.
“I actually hate camping.”
“What’s with the camping trailer, then?” Lily asks.
“It’s her mom’s,” Violet supplies when all I do is sit there, dry mouthed and anxious.
“Oh, did you have a bad experience? When Lily and I went tree planting, it was awful.” Even Sunny’s frown is cute.
