“Maybe Cooper will suck your wiener,” she said, daring me to react. “I bet he’d just love that.”
“I’m sure he would,” I agreed. “And if you don’t, I might just have to give in to him.”
“Well, Michael. Don’t plan on oral sex from me,” she began. “That is not happening in this lifetime or the next one.”
She’d gotten under my skin, but it wasn’t just her pointing out that Cooper and New Mikey were spending time together. Their friendship shouldn’t have bothered me. I was dating the best girl in school so why should I care if they might be dating or fucking?
That was the problem, I did care. Yes, I was dating the girl every guy wanted. Yes,the make out sessions were good. Maybe a bit vanilla, but I was still young. I desired all physical contact with Jen but lately I’d been thinking about my feelings for Cooper and how I desired him too. I wasn’t sure if my desire for my best friend was just because my girlfriend wasn’t putting out.
I was embarrassed to admit that recently I’d fantasized about having sex with Coop when I jacked off, and my fantasies were very confusing. On one hand I had Jennifer. On the other hand, I was confused about why I imagined being with Cooper when I masturbated.
But the craziest development was that I envisioned a future with him, not with the girl I claimed to love. My secret feelings for Cooper were driving me insane and I didn’t know how to face the truth. I loved Cooper, but that was because we were like brothers, right? My feelings for my best friend were normal, weren’t they? I wasn’t so sure anymore.
He’d admitted how he felt about me a coupla times and even though his confession made me happy, I didn’t know what to do with the information. Part of me wanted to experiment sexually. Maybe I would like it with Coop. But then again, I was still attracted to Jennifer. Being with her was an easier choice for me, but the thought that Cooper might find another guy tore me up inside.
CHAPTER TWENTY: Mike
Day One After Mom’s Death
The neighbors stood silently on the sidewalks when the hearse pulled away with Mom’s body. They’d known she was gravely ill because my mother kept no secrets about her health situation.“I don’t want them to find out after. That’d be too upsetting,”she’d said.“Besides, I’ve known these wonderful people for years. I hope to see them all again,”she’d added.
The doorbell rang nonstop all day as mourners dropped by with casseroles and baskets of marigolds. Even they knew about Mom’s obsession with the stinky flower.
“I’ll fly there right now if you need me,”Brandt had offered.“I mean it, Mike. Right this second. Just say the word.”
A couple of coworkers emailed their condolences. The office secretary even sent flowers. The house was filling up with reminders that I didn’t have a mother anymore. This time felt different from when Dad died. Mom ran point on that one despite being the surviving spouse. I didn’t worry about what to say. Mom handled all of that. Who will handle my grief from now on?
Day Two
If my mother was anything, she was organized. The safe held exact instructions on what to do after she died. She even noted that the freezerin the garage was full of meat and what to do if I didn’t stay in town. And of course, she wanted everything in the house donated if I decided to sell.
There was a sealed box with a letter taped to the top.Open on the seventh daywas handwritten on the envelope. I picked up the small container and found it to be lighter than I had anticipated. I shook the box gently and felt something solid moving against each side.
I had a few days to keep a promise or to chalk everything up to the musings of a spiritual creature. I closed my eyes and tried to visualize my mother. It was only day two and I was desperate to be able to recall her face upon request.
Day Three
“Are you sure, Mike?” Brad McPherson asked. “I sold your folks the plots so they could be side by side.” Brad and I had gone to school together. His father owned one of two funeral homes in town. “The extra large headstone was designed for both of them,” he reminded me.
“She changed her mind, Brad. Cremation only and then please deliver her remains to me,” I stated, a bit harsher than needed.
“It’ll be hard to sell the other plot,” he pushed. “I’m not sure we can refund any unused final care expenses.”
“You think I give a fuck about a refund?” I hissed.
Day Four
On day four I couldn’t control my anger. I’d been sad for the first three days as I tried to find comfort in the fact that Mom wasn’t suffering any longer, but the bullshit offerings from guests that stopped by our house did little to quell my agony. How could I be happy about Mom’s liberation from pain when I was currently buried in my own? I knew I was wrong to wish her here after the battle she waged, but I hadn’t come to grips with her passing. I didn’t have to, so fuckoff people.
Day Five
“Nice of you to find the time to call, Jennifer,” I stated, seething that my ex gave zero shits about me losing my other parent. “Finally had a break, did ya?”
“Don’t be morose, Michael. I was in London on business.”
“Phones don’t work in London?” I inquired. “Never mind. What do you want besides this phony condolence call?”
“That’s rude, Michael,” she stated before continuing to the real purpose of her call. “I’m calling about the investment account at Fidelity,” she revealed. “As you know, even though it’s a joint account, I contributed most of the funds.”
