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“I don’t know. It’s just something you said right now was exactly what my friend said earlier,” she says. I feel her eyes burning into me. Jesus, I should tell her. I have the perfect opportunity to confess that I am SimpleMan, but I choose to keep quiet. I don’t want to have this conversation in a restaurant full of diners. It’s best to come clean in the privacy of one of our homes so that if she screams, yells, and throws things at me, it won’t be with an audience.
So instead of answering her question truthfully, I lie. “Nope. Not me.”
The words burn in my gut, eating a hole through my stomach lining. The food I just consumed threatens to make a reappearance. I’ve never lied to her, not like this, not to her face, and definitely not during a confession time. Yet, I can’t seem to retract the words. My head is screaming deny, deny, deny, while my heart is shaking its head and telling me I’ve made a big mistake.
“Okay,” she says, offering a small smile, just as our server delivers our check and fortune cookies.
“What the hell?” I ask, taking in the dozen or so cookies on our tray.
“Did you order extra?” Abby asks.
“Nope. Maybe that girl has the hots for me. She’s trying to woo me by giving me extra fortune cookies,” I say with a laugh, smiling that my comment earns one back from my girl.
“Here, pick one,” I say, offering her the tray.
Abby takes one from the middle and cracks it open. She pulls out the slip of paper, a smile on her face, and reads. Then her smile drops. “Oh my God!” she exclaims.
“What?” I ask, reaching for her fortune. “No glove, no love. Holy shit, is that a sexual Chinese fortune cookie?” I ask, busting out in laughter.
“I think so,” she mumbles, her face an adorable shade of fuchsia.
“Yours is probably better than mine,” I say, grabbing a cookie and cracking it open. “Cover your stump before you hump. Are you serious? What kinda fortune cookies are these?” I ask through fits of laughter.
We both dive into the cookies, each one opening cookie after cookie.
“Wrap it before you tap it.”
“If you want in the heat, better package your meat.”
“A sword with armor will never harm her.”
“Cover your vein, then drive her insane.”
“Before you get spunky, cover your monkey.”
Wait, this is my favorite,” I say, unable to contain my laughter. “If you’re not going to sack it, then go home and whack it.”
“What kinda fortune cookies are these?” Abby asks, tears rolling down her face as she collects the dirty little fortunes.
“No clue, but I feel like we’ve been punked.”
“Wait,” she says, staring off over my shoulder. “Wait a minute,” she adds before digging into the naughty fortunes. She must find the one she’s looking for because she holds it up, victorious. “This one! Before you get spunky, cover your monkey. I’ve heard that before,” she says, deep in thought. “Yes! Grandma said this one time to Ryan when he started to see Jaime. I’m almost sure of it because I recall how odd it was she called it a monkey during a Sunday lunch.” Abby’s face blushes, which makes me smile that much more.
“So you’re telling me your grandma is behind these? Like Sex Ed 101.”
“Oh God, of course! Why didn’t I realize?” she says. “I remember her telling us she subbed for a health class back in the sixties. She talked about how she taught all of the boys to put on condoms using a banana.”
“Your grandma was a teacher? Wow, I didn’t see that coming.”
“Actually, no one really knows what she did,” Abby says. “She did a little bit of everything when we were young, and by the time she and Grandpa moved into our home to help raise us girls, she just stayed home.”
Grabbing my wallet and throwing a few bills on the table for a tip, I say, “I can totally see your grandma schooling the young boys in a sex ed class.”
“Ugh, so can I,” Abby mumbles as she slides out of the booth and takes my hand.
I maneuver Abby as close to the middle of my truck as I can and still keep her safely tucked behind a seat belt. Her hand settles on my thigh, my heart in her other hand, figuratively speaking, as I steer us back home.
By the time we’re almost home, my guilty conscious has me so worked up, I can barely think straight. Why in the hell did I have to lie? And to her face, at that! I’m the biggest fucking coward this side of the Atlantic, that’s for sure. I’m a straight up asshole with a capital A, who doesn’t deserve her love.
