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“Oh, okay. I got confused for a minute,” Wendy says.
“Are you staying for dinner?” Tillie asks.
Wendy shakes her head. “I wish I could, but I need to get home.”
“Aww, that’s not fair,” my daughter whines.
“Tillie, it’s not fair for you to make auntie feel bad for needing to get home. I’m sure if she could stay, she would.”
“I’m sorry.” Looking contrite, she wraps her arms around Wendy’s neck, hugging her tightly.
“Oh my God,”Wendy mouths at me before her eyes close. She holds Tillie as long as she allows, savoring the unexpected affection.
“Tillie, why don’t you use the bathroom and wash your hands, and I’ll get you a snack.”
“Okay, Mommy.” She slides off Wendy’s lap, picking up her backpack from the ground.
“I’ll see you soon, Tillie,” Wendy says.
“Bye, Auntie.” She skips off toward the door without another word.
“Last year she’d get off the bus, give me a big hug, and chatter nonstop about her day. Now, I barely get a hug hello. I love that she’s growing up, but it makes me sad at the same time. That’s another reason why the idea of a relationship scares me. I don’t want to miss a single minute with her.”
“I can understand why you feel that way, but it’s not healthy for you to spend every minute with her even if you could. You need to have time to yourself, and I don’t mean the hours you spend at work.”
“I guess.”
“I’m not making this up. It’s a fact. Stick with the sex ASAP plan, because he could be a dud in bed, and until you know for sure, you may be worrying about nothing.”
I curl my lip at the thought of Darius not being a good lover. That would be a massive disappointment. “God, I hope he’s as amazing as I think he’ll be. I could really use some great sex with someone other than myself.”
Wendy sputters until it turns into laughter. She raises up her index and middle finger, keeping them pressed together, and winks salaciously before she wraps one over the other. “Fingers crossed he turns out to be the orgasm king.”
* * *
I’m lying in my bed on the verge of sleep when I hear the text notification on my cell phone.
“Who the fuck is this at ten at night?” I say to myself right before I glance at the screen.
Hi. How’s your Monday been?
Seeing his name instantly brings a smile to my face and any anger I was feeling dissipates.
It was good, thanks. How about you?
It was okay. It would’ve been better if I got to see you.
He always knows just what to say. He’s either a giant cinnamon roll of a man or a total bullshit artist. I’m leaning toward the former.
That’s sweet. I would’ve liked to have seen you too.
After I send the text, I realize just how much I mean those words.
Any plans for tomorrow?
I have the later shift at the salon.
I have to work late too and then I’m getting together with some of my friends from work.
