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Narrowing my eyes at him to gauge his sincerity, I say, “Well, I get the basics but how do I avoid hurting her? And is it any good?”
“Lube, loads and loads of it.” He nods earnestly. “And go reallyreallyslow. Like I’m talking, you think you’re going slow but go slower. It takes a little time for her to open up, so fight the urge to drive in. But it’s awesome, man. I love taking Jess from behind. She loves it too.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, she probably loves it more than me. She asks for it all the time but it’s so tight I blow like a fucking teenager, so she doesn’t get it that much. Man has his pride to look out for, you know.” He laughs.
After the waitress brings our food, the conversation moves on to how shitty dispatch has been today, but I’m left with a stomach full of nerves. All I can think about is fulfilling my wife’s fantasy.
“Today would have been my Fred’s eighty-seventh birthday,” Betty says as we follow the smell of her famous cinnamon apple pie into the kitchen.
“Well, happy birthday to Fred. I bet you miss him so much,” I say.
She hands me a slice, which is actually a quarter of the pie, with a dollop of whipped cream on top before she sits at the counter in front of her tea. “Every single day.”
I stand to eat my pie, not wanting to bust one of her old dining chairs under my weight in full gear.
“Speaking of true love, how is that beautiful wife of yours?”
“She’s good. She recently told me that she’s been struggling a bit with the kids all being in school now, so she’s been finding her feet again lately.”
“Ahh, I remember those days, the times of transitions as the children need less of you. It is very difficult, even all those years ago.”
“Yeah, did you find Fred was supportive during those times? Any advice for a young married husband?” I smile.
She chuckles softly. “During our forty-nine years of marriage, Fred did struggle with what to say or do through the change of seasons. He always tried his best and I loved him for it. There are many times in a marriage where struggle fosters growth and that growth is needed to strengthen the bond as we get older and change. That’s what true love does — it gives you room to grow, then falls in love with who you’ve become again.”
She smiles and sips her tea as I nod. Her words ring true, struggle fosters growth and I want to grow with Ellie.
Chapter 20
Bubbles
Marco
Thefollowingday,Icome home from work absolutely spent, muscles aching, eyelids heavy. It was a day full ofadultsbitching and complaining about every little thing. I just want to sit in silence for the rest of the night.
Ellie is washing dishes as I walk through the door. She turns to me and says, “Hey. Can you take out the trash?”
Hello to you too, dear. Oh, how was my day? It was complete shit. Thanks for asking.
Shoving down the wrong reply, I say, “Yeah, sure. Give me a minute to change my clothes.” I drag my tired ass through the house and into the bedroom to change.
I hear her holler from the kitchen. “Oh, and the bulb in the garage light is out, so can you change that too while you’re out there?”
Fighting with her would be the cherry on this shit-sundae of a day, so I keep my mouth shut. I change into comfortable clothes, then head upstairs to collect the kids’ bathroom and playroom trash.
Jonathan is showering when I knock on the door and ask him if I can grab the trash.
“Yeah, come in,” he says as he pokes his head around the sea creature shower curtain. “Hey, Dad. How was your day?”
I smile for the first time today at his kind heart. “It was long, buddy. Dad’s tired. What about you?”
“It was cool. We made volcanoes in class today with baking soda and vinegar. My teacher put too much baking soda in the volcano, and it ended up all over the floor. It was awesome.”
I chuckle softly at this excitement. “That sounds fun. And messy. I’m going to get the rest of the trash and I’ll see you after you get your jammies on.”
“Okie dokie. Bye, dad.” He closes the curtain and continues showering while I grab the trash and then make my way to the boys’ room.
