Boy Toy

by Sarina Bowen

  Sadie is silent for a moment. Then she breaks my heart. “We can’t, Liam. It’s not a good idea.”

  Okay.

  Well.

  Wow.

  I wasn’t expecting to be shot down quite so fast. “It’s not a sleepover, Sadie. Just an hour at a gym.”

  Her fingers massage mine, but I don’t like what she says next. “You’re leaving in a few months. Even if you don’t know where yet, it’s going to happen. I don’t want them to get used to you.”

  “They’re already used to me. I see them for most of their waking hours, Monday through Friday.”

  When Sadie withdraws her hand, I know I’ve fucked up. It was the wrong thing to say, because it sounds like I’m making a judgement about where the twins spend their week. “Shit,” I say immediately. “I didn’t mean it like a criticism.”

  “I know,” she says.

  But she’s quiet for the rest of the ride home. And I feel my happy glow slipping away.

  13 Evergreen Springs. Gross.

  Liam

  Sure enough, my happy glow fades to a dull silver. A dim tarnish?

  Whatever.

  I’m too grumpy to get the analogy right. And when my happiness leaves, it’s replaced by a numbness that I can’t seem to fight off. I’d done it—I’d set up the perfect weekend. And then I wrecked it by pushing Sadie into acknowledging the truth. And by having too many feelings.

  I still have them, too. And I don’t know how to stop.

  When Monday morning rolls around, I eye the wall clock in the daycare, knowing Sadie will soon arrive. When she brings in the girls for drop-off, I avoid her by attending to some very important paperwork.

  Yes, it’s cowardly. But I don’t want her to notice that I’m hurting. I care about her a great deal, and yet I’m just a boy toy to her. And she’s put herself firmly in the cougar category, when it’s not like that at all. At least not for me.

  My sulkiness lasts all day. I’m stuck on the hamster wheel of my own thoughts. By the time five o’clock arrives, I’m actually relieved to have family plans. Usually, “relieved” and “family plans” are not words I put together in a sentence. But tonight I’m only seeing my siblings, and not those robots we refer to as our parents. I love my siblings. They’ve got me right in the feels.

  But our parents? Man, our parents. Both of them are attorneys—McAllister Esq. & McAllister Esq, Attorneys at Law. They’re finally splitting up. Not their marriage, but their partnership in the firm. Dad is running for a judgeship. The election is this November, and so my brothers and sister and I are currently trying to find the right place for his surprise victory party.

  At six-thirty, I pull up to the Evergreen Springs Golf Club. Evergreen Springs sounds more like a cemetery than a fancy club, but it’s exactly the sort of stuffy establishment that my father loves. Aiden, Connor, and Cassidy are waiting for me outside the door of the lodge. As soon as I reach them, I’m surrounded. “Where were you?” a brother demands. “You’re five minutes late! That is so unlike you,” Cassidy insists.

  Then Aiden, younger than me by five years, jokes, “Pops is getting forgetful in his old age.” And we all laugh, even though it’s not very funny. When they were young, I was the one they relied on, and was often in charge when the nanny wasn’t around or our parents were late, which was always.

  Cassidy, the youngest, gives me a big hug, then Aiden and Connor join in. We’re just a big ball of sappy family love.

  Forgive us. We’re dorky that way.

  “Okay, okay!” I say. “Break it up! Do you think we could just get this over with?”

  “Jeez, grumpy much?” asks Connor. Connor is an attorney now, too. He’ll be taking over for dad when he wins the judgeship. If he wins. Aiden is in finance.

  Cassidy is a legal scholar. That’s her way of skirting the line of Dad’s approval. She wanted to be an academic like me, but she chose the law as her area of expertise. I’m pretty sure my baby sister enjoys her work, but I’ve always wondered what she would have chosen if my dad weren’t such a hardass about his kids’ life choices.

  And then there’s me. The Manny. The respect I get from my parents? Not a lot. Mostly I don’t care.

  Mostly.

  “I am grumpy,” I agree.

  “Duh,” says Connor.

  “Did you break up with another girlfriend?” asks Cassidy.

  I hope not, I think, feeling glum all over again. But Sadie only wants me for sex, so a breakup is pretty much inevitable.

  Yet I keep my mouth shut. This is neither the time nor the place.

  “No comment,” I say, opening the sort of heavy walnut door that’s obligatory at an overpriced golf club, and then ushering my siblings inside.

  “May I help you?” asks a woman behind a podium. Her bun is so severely gathered that it’s stretching her face like Silly Putty. And she gives me a head-to-toe once-over that isn’t the sort I’m used to. She isn’t admiring my rock-climbing muscles. She’s judging my shorts, flip-flops, and Sesame Street T-shirt. It features Cookie Monster with an empty cookie jar, reading “Straight Outta Cookies.”

  The receptionist doesn’t like it, but I can assure you this shirt is very popular with the under-three set.

  “We’re here to see Sandy,” I say, trying a friendly smile. “We have an appointment.”

  “Excuse me one moment,” she says, trotting off toward the back. She gives us a dubious look over her shoulder as she goes.

  “Jesus. We’re not here to steal the silver,” Connor mutters.

  “There’s probably a dress code,” Cassidy whispers. “That’s why I didn’t change after work.”

  “Sorry,” I tell my sister. “Didn’t think about it.” Cassidy is naturally respectful of authority. You sort of had to be to survive in our house growing up.

  “You’re the McAllister children?” a woman says, approaching us. “I’m Sandy.”

  We shake her hand dutifully, one by one. Sandy is nearing retirement age, and wearing clothes that fit her probably two decades ago. I can practically hear the buttons on her cardigan crying out from their struggles.

  “Come this way,” she says. “You’ll be renting the Double Bogey room.”

  And now I’m annoyed all over again. Since we’re just here to ask questions, it’s awfully presumptuous of her to assume that we’ll choose this place for Dad’s party.

  Or maybe it’s not. The moment we walk through the doors into the Double Bogey room, my sister Cassidy whispers, “Oh God, really?”

  And there stand my dad and mom in front of a picture window, admiring the perfect fantasy green hills and little golf flags outside.

  My siblings fall in line behind me somehow, leaving me to greet our parents first. “Well this is a surprise,” I say. Although, it isn’t really. My dad is such a control freak that he wants to plan his own surprise party. I should have seen it coming.

  “You’re a few minutes late,” dear old Dad says by way of a greeting. “And why aren’t you properly attired?”

  “Just came from my place of business,” I say, patting the graphic on my chest. “Where I work, this is proper attire.” Would my dad make playdough in a suit and Hermes tie?

  Actually, he wouldn’t make playdough at all.

  “We’ve already gone ahead and approved everything,” Mom says. “It’s just perfect here!”

  “But I thought this was a surprise party?” I say, just because I’m in a mood. I feel my brothers and sister tense up behind me. You don’t question my parents. Ever. “And who knows if you’ll even win?” I say to my dad, further pushing my luck.

  Seems like I’m just itching for a fight. The idea that my dad would lose his bid for the judgeship isn’t even imaginable, not to him at least.

  He gives me the Fearsome McAllister Frown. “Of course I’ll be elected. It’s a done deal. And we need this surprise party to look perfect.”

  “Everything will be perfect,” Sandy says. “We’re serving steak and scalloped potatoes.
And nothing ever goes wrong at Evergreen Springs.”

  “It’ll be picture perfect, I’m sure,” I say drily.

  I get elbowed in the ribs on both sides of my body at once.

  Sandy launches into a long-winded description of the shrimp cocktail and the dessert menu. I can’t focus on any of it, and I’m not sure why any of us are here.

  God, I miss Sadie. If she were here, this would be so much more enjoyable. I could just quietly rub my hand up against her and…

  “Dude,” says Connor. “A little distance.”

  Whoops. I try to focus again.

  “Jackets and ties,” my father is saying. “Emerald green and navy blue would be acceptable. You will each have a plus one, and dance the second dance with your mother and me. A foxtrot.”

  Dancing? Fuck.

  I hope Sadie sticks around with me long enough to come with me.

  I am so in a funk right now.

  Meh.

  14 My Crazy Person Voice

  Sadie

  My girls survived the weekend with their father. Afterwards, they’re clingy and tired. But I’m still happy to see them.

  On Monday it’s back to the grind, although my psychology practice is quiet this week. Quite a few of my patients are away on vacation. When September comes, though, I know they’ll be back. Psychologists see lots of demand in the fall when everyone is back to the stresses of school and work.

  The summer lull means I get to pick up the girls early three days in a row. Now, when Liam implied that he sees more of Kate and Amy than I do, he wasn’t wrong. And even if he didn’t mean to knock me down by pointing this out, it still hurt. He doesn’t know how acutely I feel that loss.

  And I suspect that Liam is avoiding me during drop-off and pickup this week. Although, to be fair, when I pick up the girls on Tuesday he’s busy talking to Blade’s mother.

  “The green playdough disappeared today,” he’s telling her. “It’s not clear where it went, although I have a theory. Anyway, we make the playdough ourselves from organic flour. So if Blade has green poops, you don’t need to panic.”

  “Good to know,” Blade’s mother is saying as Kate and Amy and I leave.

  The girls and I visit the park on Tuesday evening. I push the stroller up that hill by myself, and then chase the girls around alone when it’s time to saddle up and go home.

  Sweating, I push the stroller home. I can’t help but think of the time that Liam was at my side. He’d come to the park every night if I asked him to.

  For a few weeks, my subconscious prods. Then he’s gone.

  Right. Nothing is easy. He must feel it, too. Or he’d be texting me to hook up later.

  By the time my girls are asleep, Liam still hasn’t returned the text I sent him earlier. When he finally does, it’s late and he tells me he’s working really hard on his thesis research.

  But he doesn’t come over the next night, either. Or the next. And by Friday I’m positive he’s ghosting me. And there’s a little voice inside me whispering how much it will hurt when our little fling is over, whether that happens now or at the end of summer.

  I’m trying not to listen to that inner voice, because I’m not ready for it to end. After the girls go to sleep, I gather my courage and call him. “Hi, stranger,” I say when he answers.

  “Hi,” he says softly. He doesn’t say anything else. There’s this awkward silence between us, and this uneasiness is new and scary.

  “I miss you,” I blurt. And boy, it’s the truth. I miss the sex, but also the adult conversation. Liam is both smart and fun. I can’t stay away. I can’t stop thinking about him.

  “I miss you, too,” he says immediately.

  There. That sharp awkwardness dissipates. I can breathe again.

  He continues. “I know I haven’t been around this week. But it’s nothing you did wrong. I’ve just been too inside my own head to figure my shit out.”

  Inside his head. I know what that means. And I know it’s partly because I turned down his offer to take the girls to the climbing wall. I get it. It was a cowardly move on my part, but I can’t risk my girls falling for him and then he leaves.

  I want to explain myself, but instead I hear myself say, “Come over. Drink some wine with me on the front porch and tell me your troubles. The doctor is in.” I add that last bit with a smile. I hope he hears it.

  “Will you wear a sexy doctor costume?” His joke lacks some of his usual energy, but he’s trying.

  “Don’t push your luck.”

  He laughs, and then tells me he’ll be right over.

  Twenty minutes later, we’re drinking wine on the porch as planned. There are two chairs, but we sit on the top step instead, because we’re closer to each other that way. It’s a lovely night. On this side of Michigan, the sky remains light until ten at night in midsummer. Birds are singing in the trees, and Liam’s biceps are challenging both cuffs of his polo shirt. There’s beautiful scenery everywhere I look.

  I’m so happy right now I don’t even recognize myself.

  “You look very…” Liam smiles at me. “...Beautiful tonight.”

  “Beautiful wasn’t the word you were going to use, was it?” I ask.

  “Fine. My first thought was fuckable,” he admits. “I haven’t gotten you naked in days, and my inner horny teenager is starved for it. But you are also very beautiful.”

  “My inner teenager likes the attention,” I admit. “Although you didn’t have to wait all week, you know.”

  Liam winces. “Yeah. Sorry about that. I was trying to sort out my head without any input from my dick.”

  “And how did that go?”

  He leans over and kisses my jaw. “My head likes you a whole lot, too.” He straightens and puts a hand over his heart. “I’ve got it bad, Sadie. I’m more invested in you than you are in me.”

  I start to answer, but he gently cuts me off. “That’s not your fault; it’s just my cross to bear.”

  I take a big gulp of my wine and try to process that. “But you’re the one who’s leaving.”

  “I know,” he says miserably.

  “And even if you weren’t, I can’t afford to be so invested. It’s more complicated for me.”

  “True.” He sighs.

  “I need to give my girls a stable home. But their dad couldn’t make it to their second birthday without cheating. I can’t have you in their lives when you and I are a temporary thing.”

  He looks like he wants to argue with me. I’m already in their lives. But Liam is a smart man. He resists the urge to tangle us up in another argument. He leans in and kisses me instead.

  Liam is a freaking genius. Because the minute his generous lips press against mine, I forget all the tension between us. I set my wine glass down and wrap an arm around his neck. Yes. More.

  He lets out a helpless little groan and kisses me more deeply. Two kisses become ten kisses. And then we’re making out like horny teenagers on my front porch, while joggers pass by and dogs bark.

  And then my phone rings, which is probably a blessing. I don’t need to give my neighbors a show. Even so, it takes until the third ring until Liam and I can bear to pull away from each other.

  “Wow,” Liam says, panting. “Sorry.”

  “I’m not,” I say, picking up the phone. The ringing already stopped. But it starts right up again. Brynn calling, it says.

  She’s only a couple weeks away from her due date, so I feel a frisson of excitement when I see her name. I answer immediately this time. “Hey! Any news?” I ask.

  “Well…” She sounds hesitant. “I got a little situation here.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Tom is fishing with Braht.”

  “Fishing? That’s something they do?”

  “Yeah, because Tom hates golf. They don’t catch any actual fish, but it’s some kind of manly ritual. I don’t get it. But anyway, Tom isn’t answering his phone and I think I’m in labor.”

  “Okay, deep breaths. How are you f
eeling?”

  “Well, at first it was just a back ache. But now it’s like someone is squeezing me in a motherfucking vice, okay?”

  “All right,” I say calmly.

  “Tom’s not answering his phone!”

  “Yes, but it’s going to be okay.” I’m using my Calm Doctor Voice. “They’re only a few miles away, and it’ll get dark soon. And labor takes a long time. Why don’t you start timing your contractions? Do you need company?”

  “No, I’m okay. I’ll get the kitchen timer.”

  “I’m here if you need me.”

  “Thanks,” she grunts.

  “Is everything all right?” Liam asks when I hang up. “Is your friend going to have the baby?”

  “It sure sounds like it. She’s freaking out, although the baby probably won’t show up until tomorrow.”

  “Do you need to go over there? I could stay here.”

  I just stare for a moment at the beautiful, kind man on my porch. I know I shouldn’t compare Liam and Decker all the time, but the contrast is so striking. If Decker thought he was about to have sex and then instead I left to go help a friend? He’d lose his everloving mind.

  “Sadie?”

  I realize I never answered the question. “Sorry. Got a little distracted there for a second. Tom should be back with Brynn at any time. Now where were we?”

  “Foreplay,” he says with a smile, and my nipples tighten.

  “Right. Let’s go inside first, okay?”

  “Good plan.” He winks at me and gathers up the wine bottle and the glasses.

  We relocate to my sofa. But two kisses later, the phone rings again. “I’m scared,” Brynn says immediately. “Four minutes apart is close, right?”

  Hmm. It is, but it’s not an emergency. Or is it? “Well…”

  “Can you please come over? A SMALL HUMAN IS TRYING TO CLAW ITS WAY OUT OF MY BODY!”

  I have to hold the phone away from my ear to prevent deafness.

  “Go,” Liam mouths.

  “I’ll be right over,” I tell Brynn.