by Andi Burns
“Haha. Just a few. She’s 81. I’m thirty.”
“So, what then? You met at Beer and Bingo?”
“No, but she does love to go. We met when she almost became my great aunt about ten or twelve years ago.”
He pauses mid-rinse to look at me. “Your family tree seems to have quite a few branches.”
“That’s an understatement. My parents divorced when I was really young, about a year old, I guess. They’ve each been married and divorced a few times since. And they were each in relationships that never made it to the altar.”
“That’s how you found Stella.”
“Right, her niece Kathleen was engaged to my dad. That didn’t last long—I never even made it to the fitting for the bridesmaid dress. But that’s how I met Stella, and, as you now know, she’s pretty irresistible.” He nods as we stack plates and cups in the cupboard and set the kitchen back to rights.
“So you just kept her?”
“Wouldn’t you?”
“Fair enough,” he agrees.
“Honestly, though, I’ve collected a lot of relatives in my time. I really should keep a chart or something,” I joke. “At last count, I have six half-siblings and 11 step-siblings. And then you add in all the step-siblings my siblings have gained since our parents divorced and remarried. That just gets ridiculous.”
At his confused look, I explain. “So, let’s take Jeff. He’s one of my faves. He and my mom married when I was 10 and divorced when I was in high school. Jeff’s boys, Jake and Jordan are a couple years ahead of me. They’re good guys. And my mom had my little brother Jaden when I was in middle school. Anyway, after our parents split, Jeff married Debra, who already had three kids of her own. So, they often show up at functions because my family is weird like that.”
“Wow. Do you have to wear name tags at birthday parties?”
“It’s probably not a bad idea when you add in my various aunts and uncles and cousins. I’m lucky, though, everyone gets along pretty well, for the most part. There’s no major animosity. I never felt pulled in one direction, or anything like that. Though holidays have always been like a whirlwind tour.”
I refill our wine glasses and head into the living room. We snuggle into the couch, and it all seems so natural, just being here with Ev.
“Something tells me our family holidays are on opposite ends of the spectrum, Molls.”
“From what Elaine has said, you’re right,” I admit.
“Edward and Patrice Madigan are an acquired taste, I guess. One I still haven’t acclimated to, and I’m forty,” he jokes.
“Is now a bad time to mention that I’ve fantasized about throat-punching your mother?”
“Not at all,” he smiles. “She’s nasty and judgmental. Unfortunately, Elaine always bore the brunt of that. I’m sure my mother began aiming her vitriol in my direction when I was a kid, but I never paid much attention to her.”
“That’s probably for the best.”
“Agreed. And I left for college right after I graduated and never really looked back. Of course, that’s not to say I’ve steered clear of toxic relationships. And I have the divorce papers to prove it.”
“Yea, Elaine filled me in on that, too. To say that your sister was not a fan of your ex is an understatement.”
“That’s because my ex is a bitch, and my sister is a kind, loving person.”
“From what I’ve heard, this is also true. So, if I can repeat your earlier question, how did you two meet?”
“Is it that hard to imagine? Victoria and I were a marriage made in corporate heaven. Her dad was a partner in the company I work for. We met at a social function about ten years ago, and that was it. She liked the lifestyle I could offer, and I liked the connections she could offer.”
I turn to face him, because this feels like the sort of conversation that should be had face-to-face. He cradles me, so I’m still wrapped in his arm, but we can see each other now. The honesty in his eyes is familiar and reassuring.
“I won’t sugarcoat it, Molly. I’m not void of emotion like my parents, but I’ve been known to be a bit of an asshole. I was definitely laser-focused on my career after grad school, and it’s fair to say I made decisions with upward mobility in mind.”
“Are you still?”
“Laser-focused on my career?”
“No, an asshole.”
He laughs. “Not nearly as much.”
“I can live with that.” I hear myself say the words, and they should scare me. I’m not ever going to put myself in a position where I’m living with any part of Ev,metaphorically or otherwise. And yet, my reassurance is genuine.
He takes the last swallow of his wine. I offer more, but he declines. “Are you sure I can’t get you anything else? Dessert, maybe? I made brownies.”
“Dessert first, then brownies.” His answer requires no explanation as he lays me back on the couch and kneels between my thighs. He takes his time kissing his way down my body, removing clothing as he goes.
“Feel free to do this for the rest of eternity,” I say, proud that I can still form words.
“I’m leaving for Miami in the morning, so there will be a slight hiatus. But I swear I’ll make it up to you.”
“Then what are you waiting for?”
Stella: Don’t hold dinner for me, dear. The girls want to try that new casino that opened up in Delaware.
Molly: Have fun! And don’t forget what you taught me.
Stella: How could I? It’s the Golden Rule of Casinos. One pocket for what you can spend and one pocket for what you’ve won.
Molly: That’s my gal. Are you staying over?
Stella: We are. We just can’t do a day trip like we used to, not with Faye’s bursitis acting up. Bill and Doreen found us a little B&B outside Wilmington, so we’re all set.
Molly: Great—enjoy yourselves!
Stella: Enjoy yourself with that hunk of man you brought over last night! (flame emojis)
Molly: Sadly, he had to fly out on business this morning. But I’m heading to Elaine’s in a bit to catch up with her.
Stella: Give her my love.
Molly: Will do! XOXO
I make it through the weekly staff meeting, smiling and nodding, and pretending to take notes. I tossed and turned last night after Ev left. Good sex always leaves me revved up, and there was no one to spoon with, so I had trouble calming down and getting to sleep.
Sex with Ev is like no other sex I’ve ever had, and trust me when I say, I’m not new to the party. I know what I like, and I have no trouble asking for it. But with Ev, I don’t even have to ask. It’s like he just knows. He picks up on signals and responses and sounds and takes it from there. He’s so in tune with me on a sexual level. On every level, really.
So, unpopular opinion: oral sex is overrated. There. I said it. You know why? Because it is. Usually. Don’t get me wrong; I don’t dislike it. It’s just that, well, it never really lives up to the hype, I guess. It’s kind of like when a beloved book is turned into a movie with an A-list cast. There’s so much buzz about it. There’s all this potential, but it’s still never as good as the book. That’s not to say it’s bad, necessarily, just never as good.
Take New Year’s Eve in Times Square. It’s the epitome of NYE, right? My dad took me once. I was just 21, and we were there with a big group of people, and it should have been awesome, right? And it was great. But there was also trash everywhere. And it was so loud. And beyond crowded. It was fun; I’m glad I went, but I was even happier watching the ball drop from the comfort of my couch the next year.
That’s kind of how I feel about oral sex. It’s fine. It’s not bad. I’ve just never been sure what all the fuss is about.
Well, now I know.
Ev Madigan is a fucking genius with his tongue. He’s not a dog sloppily lapping at an ice cream cone. He’s not looking for the Goddamn center of a Tootsie-Pop.
A buzz from my phone interrupts my musings, and I see a text from Stella, telling me they�
��ve arrived, safe and sound, and are ready to hit the slot machines. I have to laugh. It’s like she’s a teenager who’s checking in with her mom. But I’m more an enabler than a mother figure, and maybe that’s why we get along so well.
My workday is done, so I pack up my things and head over to Elaine’s. I’ve missed our weekly lunches. I wish I could bring her nachos from The Tavern, but she’s still surviving on bland foods. Last I heard, she was getting fluids once a week, so it sounds like I’ll have to wait awhile for that lunch date. No matter, though. What I’ve got planned might just be better than nachos, if such a thing is possible.
I pull into her driveway and get my bags out.
“Hey, Molls!” Simon calls. “Need a hand?”
I hand over a stuffed bag and a basin full of towels.
“Um, is this baby stuff?”
“Nope. Big girls only.” I smile cryptically.
Simon learned quickly not to question my methods, so he dutifully carries the load inside. I follow with the last of the goodies and pull him in for a quick hug once I reach the foyer.
“We’re all set for a couple of hours. Go grab a beer, or an actual meal, or whatever you like. I’ve got your girl, I promise.”
He hesitates, and I steamroll over him, as is usually the case. “Dude. Leave. Unless you want your toenails painted and your pores minimized, you’ve got five minutes to kiss your baby mama, grab your stuff, and go.”
“Molly, you’re awesome.”
“I am. And it’s Tuesday.”
He smiles broadly and pats his pocket for his phone, but I stop him. “No need to text Nick. I already did. He’s waiting for you at Trick’s. Enjoy Trivia Night.”
As Simon and Elaine say their goodbyes, I unpack all of the goodies I brought. Christian, my hairstylist, hooked me up with all kinds of good stuff.
“Ok, lovebirds, time’s up! He’s going to play trivia, not to fight a war.” I love giving these two a hard time.
Simon leaves, and I go into the kitchen to help myself to a glass of water. “You need a refill, hon?”
“Nope, I’m good,” she calls.
I get myself situated on the couch next to her. “It is so good to see you! Work is not the same without my bestie.”
“I can only imagine. You’ve got to fend off all that crazy by yourself. You must be exhausted.”
“I’m hanging in there. I did put a sign up on my door that said I was in an all-day webinar and couldn’t be disturbed. That worked wonders.”
She laughs. “People believed that?”
“Yep,” I smile. “I should use it judiciously, though. Just my luck, Tall Steve will want to register for this day-long training that doesn’t actually exist.”
“I’ve got your back, Molls. We’ll get Simon to rig something up to his computer that simulates a training.”
“You’re an evil genius. I’m so proud.”
“And I’m so curious. What’s with all the bags? Please tell me they are not more printouts from Harold.”
“Nope,” I shake my head and grab at a few of the goodies I’ve brought. “Since I can’t take you to the spa, I thought I’d bring the spa to you.”
“Molls! You are the best!” She digs through the assortment of lotions and masques and treatments that I’ve brought, oohing and ahhing over each one.
“And one of the bags is a needlepoint kit for beginners. Stella sent that over, along with her love. She thought it might help you pass the time. And you have her number. She’s happy to FaceTime you through a thread-crisis.”
“She’s a saint.”
“No, she’s the devil herself, but that’s what I love so much about her. Oh, and Ava sent something, too.” I dig for the pouch my step-sister insisted I bring. “I was told not to open it, so I didn’t.” I explain, peering over to see what’s in the gift bag.
“Aw, Ava. She’s so thoughtful.” My best friend coos as she shows me the Sudoku pad, the journal, and the purple gel pen Ava wrapped up. I love that girl.
“She really is a sweetheart,” I agree.
“And how’s the rest of your fam?”
“Everyone’s good. I told you my dad’s dog destroyed the living room and ate a Hershey bar, right? Well, she’s fine, so that’s good. Also, the vet is hot, so that’s good information to have.”
We start pampering ourselves as the conversation flows naturally. We gossip about work, she keeps me up-to-date on all the goings-on in our little friend group, and assures me that she and Baby Walker are doing just fine. And despite looking a little peaked, she’s got a tiny baby bump and is clearly taking good care of herself.
The conversation lags just a bit, as I try to decide on a color for my toes. I figure Elaine is busy with the same task, but when I turn to her, I realize she’s scrutinizing me.
“Look at me.”
“What?”
“Look at me. No, all the way. Face me.”
“You’re being weird,” I tell my best friend. “I think this baby is messing with your head.”
“You’re fucking glowing, Molly.”
“Of course I am,” I scoff. “I just did a moisture renewal mask for, like, twenty minutes.”
“Nope. I’m not talking dewy skin. I’m talking sex-ravished skin. You have been having the sex!” she declares.
“Honestly, I’ve been having the sex since I was 17, so you’re not much of a detective…”
She rolls her eyes at me. “You know what I mean. The dry spell has ended. So, who’s the guy?”
I hedge for a second, pretending to be totally absorbed in my debate between Moonlight Mauve and Cherry Blossom.
“Molly Grace Randall. You have never once withheld information from me, particularly information of a sexual nature, so don’t start now.”
I laugh. “You’re taking right to this whole mom-thing, E. You’ve even got the look down.”
Undeterred, she points that mom look in my direction.
And I cave.
I admit, “I’m sleeping with Ev,” exactly at the same time that Elaine says, “You’ve found the Magic Penis!”
For a beat, our words hang in the air, and it’s like that old show Ghostwriter that I used to watch as a kid. I can almost see the words. And I can see Elaine making sense of them. Her face twists into a look of unmistakable horror.
I’m not sure what to say. I never imagined she’d have a problem with this. Like Ev said, we’re all adults, so…
I open my mouth to ask her what’s going on, because I’m a straightforward kind of gal. But she beats me to it.
“My brother is the Magic Penis of Christmas?” She winces.
I nod.
“I really want an alcoholic beverage right now.”
We break into peals of laughter and then I explain my night out at Mahady’s a few months ago.
“I should have known. I mean, the timeline makes sense, but I never put it all together,” Elaine says.
“To be fair, you were too busy schtupping your fiancé to notice what your brother was up to. And like I said, we gave each other fake names. We never expected to see one another again. But here we are.”
“Here we are indeed. Oh, I love this! You two must be adorable together.”
“Easy there, Killer. We’re not together, not really. This is just a casual, temporary thing.”
Elaine looks defeated, which doesn’t surprise me. She’s a romantic, this one.
“Don’t even start, E. You can’t out-scheme a schemer. Besides, Ev and I are totally on the same page with this. Neither of us wants anything long-term or serious.”
“Okay,” she relents. “But at least I can take the credit for your reunion, right?” She looks downright giddy, so I placate her.
“Sure thing.”
“Excellent.” She’s damn near preening, but I can tell there’s something else on her mind.
“What’s up, Elaine? Spill.”
“Ok, so hear me out. I know you guys aren’t staying together, that it’s tempora
ry, right?”
“Yea.” I can’t figure out where she’s going with this.
“But can you please stick around long enough for Ev to introduce you to my parents?” She’s suppressing a giggle.
“You just want me to tell your mom off.”
“I do,” she admits.
I laugh. “You’re easy to please, E.”
It’s a balmy 78 degrees, and the sun is shining in the cloudless sky.
I’m sitting on the deck in my hotel room with a cold beer in my hand.
South Beach is damn near vibrating with energy.
Our meeting today went well, even better than expected. Nate has risen to every challenge we’ve faced, and I’ve been on my A-game.
And yet, I’m bored.
Bored in Miami. How is that even possible?
I change from my suit into workout clothes and decide to head out for a run along the beach. Maybe that’s my issue. I just need to get my blood pumping. I text Nate my plans since he wanted to meet up for dinner.
Ev: Going for a run.
Nate: Sounds good. I’m running the numbers we discussed at the meeting today. We still good to grab dinner later? I’d like to run a few things by you.
Ev: Yep—how about 7?
Nate: Great—Mexican okay? There’s a place right down the street that the concierge recommended. It’s right on the corner, across from the coffee shop.
Ev: (thumbs up emoji)
After a nice hot shower, I change back into a fresh shirt and pair it with my suit pants and loafers. I forgo the tie, but Molly’s right: I need to go shopping for casual clothes. I pocket my phone and wallet and head in the direction of the coffee shop we stopped at earlier today.
I arrive at my destination a mere three minutes later and bark out a laugh. Turning, I take a selfie, making sure to get the restaurant sign in the shot.
Ev: About to have dinner
Molly: ok…
Ev: (sends selfie): Eating at The Pink Taco
Molly: Funny, I thought you ate there last night. ;)
Ev: You’re killing me.
Molly: You’re the one who started it.
Ev: True. This name cracks me up. And did you know the World Erotic Art Museum is only a five-minute walk away.
