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I shake my head. “That’s anofor me.”
Aunt Cass nods her head. “That’s ayesfor her, Frankie. What’s the latest and greatest gadget?”
“Remote-control, vibrating nipple clamps?”
“We’ll take one of those, along with regular nipple clamps. What else? Wow me with something I haven’t heard of.” What the fuck? Remote control, vibrating nipple clamps? What else could there possibly be?
Frankie looks like she’s deep in thought. “Well, have you heard of the Smart Bead?”
Aunt Cass’s eyes light up. “No. Tell me about it.”
“It’s sized and inserted much the same way as the bullet, but there’s no remote control. You activate it with an app, but it’s your body that controls when it goes on and off. It basically learns your body and senses when you need an orgasm. It measures your orgasm potential. It’s like a pleasure and stress trainer. The more stressed and uptight you are, the more it vibrates. When you relax, it stops. Its goal is to train your body to relax through orgasms.”
Aunt Cass, Reagan, and Skylar stare at me with their mouths wide open. I look back at them. “What?”
“It’s as if a device was specifically created with you in mind. It’s perfect.”
Aunt Cass turns back to Frankie. “She’ll take two of those, just in case one breaks from overuse.” I roll my eyes at her. “Reagan, Skylar, you’ll see to it that she uses it?”
“Of course, Aunt Cass.” Skylar smiles at me.
“Definitely. We’reonit, and we’ll make sure it’sinher.” Reagan cracks herself up.
I frown. “You three are completely ridiculous.”
We spend another half an hour in there. Aunt Cass keeps adding things to our cart. Yes, we now have so much stuff that it necessitates a cart. She spends over a thousand dollars on me.
She holds out her arms when we’re done. “Happy graduation, Harley. I love you.”
I scowl at her. “I hate you.”
She laughs. “No, you don’t. You’ll love me for this stuff. I promise.”
Reagan and Skylar leave after our trip to the “Pleasure Chest”, but Aunt Cass and I head to lunch. It’s a beautiful day, so we eat outside on Rittenhouse Square. We sit down at our table, and I put my three large, unmarked, black, opaque bags on the ground next to me. At least they’re discreet.
We order two glasses of white wine before Aunt Cass takes my hand. “Harley, talk to me. What’s going on with you?”
I pinch my eyebrows. “I don’t understand. What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? Harley, this should be a happy time in your life, yet you’re sad. You’ve achieved all of your goals in life, yet you are completely stressed out. You’re young and stunningly beautiful, yet you never date. Need I go on?”
“No. It’s not necessary.” I put my head in my hands. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Maybe it’s Mom. I’m always worried about her.”
“I know it’s been a rough couple of years with your mom, but I see signs of life in her. She’s going to break out of this funk very soon. She’s been my best friend for thirty years, Harley. No one knows her better than I do. I’m telling you that she’s close to getting back on track. You just leave that to me. I’ll take care of her.”
She takes a deep breath. “Look Harley, I know your mother’s depression weighs heavily on you, but I think it’s something more than that. Did anything else happen at school, beyond what I know?”
“No, you know everything.” Tears start to well in my eyes. She squeezes my hand. The simple fact is that Aunt Cass has been our surrogate mother since Dad died. Mom hasn’t been mentally present at all. We feel like we walk on eggshells around her. She teeters on the edge of tears at all times. If I’m going to talk to anyone about this, it would be Aunt Cass.
She studies my face. “Are you dating at all?”
Now the tears spill over. I look up at her. “I don’t know how to explain it without sounding like I’m crazy.”
“Harley, I’m the queen of crazy. It’s literally my nickname. If anyone will understand, it’s me.”
I sigh. “I’ve been on a few dates.” I’m nervously playing with my napkin. I put my head down, not able to look at her in the eyes. “When things start to get intimate, my body just won’t react like it’s supposed to.” I look up, hoping she knows what I mean. “It’s like I’m dead inside. Nothing, and no one, turns me on. I make up an excuse to end it and leave. It’s gotten so embarrassing, that now I’ve honestly stopped trying.” My face is a wet mess of tears.
“Oh, sweetie come here.” She pulls her chair next to mine and hugs me. “Why do you think that is? When was the last time it felt good? When did it last feel right?”
