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“Have you given him a chance to try?” she asks, glaring. “Let me guess. You’ve been coming home from work, grabbing a piece of fruit and a peanut butter sandwich, and locking yourself in your room with a book until bedtime. You sneak to the bathroom to brush your teeth and shower, blushing the whole shower because you think of him naked and moaning your name in that very spot, and you get up in the morning and out the door for work as fast as you can.”
“That’s the sum of it. Yes.”
“Heather has a point.”
“Leave my mom out of this.”
“You need to get laid by this guy, and you need to relax and enjoy it.”
“I think he sleeps with other women.”
Her spoon falls into her bowl, and she scowls. “What do you mean?”
“I heard him leave the other night about nine. He didn’t come back until the early morning. I think he went out and picked up a woman.”
“You’re not putting out and won’t talk to him. Can you blame him? Did he bring her to your place?”
“Well, no. But he moved in and made me sign that douchey contract. Yes, I can blame him.” I lean forward until my hair flops into my face.
“So, you’re jealous of women touching him when you ignore him, treat him like a boarder, and don’t make an effort to even talk to him? Did he get a job?”
“Yep. I didn’t ask much about it. He texted me that he got one with a smiley face.”
“How did you respond?”
“A thumbs up emoji.” I don’t mention that I researched the thumbs up emoji before I sent it. I was worried teenagers have changed the emoji meaning in the last few years. I didn’t need him thinking I was telling him I’m interested in massaging his prostate or something equally as horrifying.
“I can see your dilemma,” she chuckles. “You have a gorgeous man living in your home that has a job he goes to every day and even replaces the toilet paper roll properly. Said man moans your name when he comes. Terrible, Savannah. Dreadful. I fear that your life has devolved into a bowl of shit, and…”
“Stop!” I say, holding up my hand. “You made your point. I’m an absolute idiot.” I look up and take another bite of food, the first I’ve enjoyed in a few days. “What do I do? I’m so awkward at this. I want him, but I’m scared of wanting him.”
“I don’t understand it,” she says, shaking her head. She signals for another cocktail from the bar, and the waiter nods from across the room. Melissa always gets whatever she wants at daddy’s golf club. “You should be on him and riding him like a cowgirl.”
“Do you mean backward?”
She laughs, snorting a piece of fry out her nose. She covers her face with her napkin. “Backward. Forward. Sideways. However you have to do it, honey. Just get on some dick. How sexy are we talking?”
I moan a little, and Melissa raises her eyebrows. “Listen, Savannah, you need to talk to him. That’s where you start first.”
A ping sounds from my purse, and I reach for it, already knowing it’s my mother with her daily check-in. She always texts around this time. I don’t know why. She’s not elderly and in danger of dying in her sleep. Part of me thinks she’s lonely…or nosy.
I open up the screen and groan.
“Lots of groaning and moaning coming from that side of the table today. Did he send a dick pic?” Melissa asks. “If so, show me.”
“It’s worse. My mom wants to have dinner tomorrow and introduce me to her cuffing partner.”
“The fact that your mother is being laid by her cuffing partner and you’re not, tells you all you need to know about just how sad your life has become.”
“Don’t I know it. Now I have to sit and be a third wheel at Applebee’s while my mom handfeeds a chicken wrap to some geriatric millennial she picked up.”
“Why don’t you take Wilder?”
I nearly choke on my sandwich. “He doesn’t want to go to dinner with my mother.”
“Probably not, but I’m willing to bet he wants to go with you. Besides, it’ll show Heather that you’re serious cuffing season partners, and it’ll hold up your end of the bargain. You’re guaranteed the tuition money as long as you take Wilder around Heather a few times. It’s an essential part of the show. Does Heather know you signed a contract with him?”
I sigh. I told my mother about the contract over the phone. She didn’t seem fluffed by it or think it’s weird, at least not that she let on. Typical Mom. “She knows. She laughed and kept talking about her new guy. You know her. She’s more focused on her own world.”
