***
The next day I shoved my makeup bag in my attaché case instead of fixing myself up in the morning. I’d decided that I’d go to the library after I dropped Eric off at school, and then before lunch, I’d prepare to see Seth.
The writing was coming along great. After seeing Seth the previous day, I’d gone back into the PG13 sex scenes I’d written and raced them up a bit. The scenes weren’t something I’d be embarrassed if Aunt Heidi read them, but I might blush if Eric got a hold of the story. Not that I wouldn’t tell Eric about my writing, but I’d have to come up with a pseudonym when I published so his friends and my ex wouldn’t see them.
At eleven-thirty, I freshened myself up and then splurged on a cup of coffee and a snack from the eatery located inside the library.
At twelve o’clock on the dot, I repositioned myself in the fiction area, the section Seth always seemed to like. Only this time, I kept all four legs of the chair on the floor, and I made a point of glancing up at the door often.
A few minutes after twelve, Seth strolled inside, flashing a huge smile. “Hey …” he called as he approached, looks like I can’t sneak up on you today.”
“Nope,” I said, pushing out the chair across from me with my foot. “I’m on high guard against snoopers.”
Seth dropped his briefcase on the table and then just stared at me. “So, tell me about the book you’re writing.”
I shook my head quickly as I bit down on my lip. “No. Uh-uh. It’s too embarrassing. It’s my first try at writing.”
He laughed. “No, it’s not. You write every day when you write your reviews.”
“That’s different. I’m just sharing my thoughts.”
He narrowed his eyes across the table. “What do you think you do when you write?”
I bobbed my head from side to side. “Yeah … I guess you’re right. So, what have you been writing?”
This time he shook his head rapidly. “I asked you first.”
“Ahh … so you have been writing.” I drummed my fingers on the table. “Tell you what. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Seth threw back his head. “Ooh … it’s like we’re sitting beneath the bleachers in junior high. You got an old Coke bottle in your backpack? Maybe we can play Spin the Bottle next. But okay …” He reached into his messenger bag and pulled out a small laptop about half the size of mine. After he clicked on a few keys, he turned it around and pushed it across the round table. “Here you go.”
I blew out a long breath and then did the same with my computer, but held it as I asked, “Did you do that in junior high? The ‘underneath the bleachers’ thing?”
Seth winked. “I’ll never tell.”
I raked my teeth across my bottom lip as I released my grip on my laptop. “Mine’s romantic suspense, though, so don’t gag.”
Seth grabbed the computer and turned it around. “I happen to like romantic suspense, Jana.”
I smiled, thinking again that this guy couldn’t be true. I would have to ask Mak if she saw anyone sitting with me. Or if I was just rambling on to myself. Maybe men had driven me to the point that I had to create an imaginary boyfriend — on paper and off.
Regardless of whether Seth was real or not, I liked him. I ran my finger down the page, positioning the cursor so I could just arrow down as I read.
I peeked up once to see that Seth had already started. Evidently feeling my gaze, he waved me off as though I should get to work.
Smiling, I started to read.
Twenty minutes later, I tore my eyes from the page to see Seth staring at me. I’d been so engrossed in the story that I’d forgotten he was here.
He tilted his head as if to ask for my opinion and then shrugged. “What do you think?”
“It’s amazing. Has anyone read this yet?”
He smiled. “Not yet.”
“Seth … this is fantastic. Really. Oh, my God! You’re going to be famous.”
He waved his hand at me, and if I wasn’t mistaken, he might have even blushed. “You think?”
I lifted my hands. “I’m just a reader, but I read a lot of books, and this is … I don’t know what to say. I do know this … I read plenty of books that I couldn’t care less if I read past the first chapter, but yours … When can I read it all?”
He grinned. “Really? You want to be a beta reader?”
“Well, I don’t know how good I’ll be as a beta reader, but yeah. Is it finished?”
“Almost. Write down your email, and you’ll be the first one I send it to.” He moved his hand across the keyboard of my computer, then pointed. “Jana, this is good. I love how you started the story with a bang — literally. I’m pretty sure I even teared up when she finally had the courage to leave him. Is it finished?”
I shook my head. “Not yet, but I hope to have it finished next month. I’ve been managing about two thousand words a day. After that, my brain shuts down.”
Seth reached into his computer bag as he laughed. “Me too.” He pulled out a card and jotted something on the back. He pushed the card across the table. “Here’s my personal email. Email me when you can, and I’ll send you mine and then you can send me yours.”
I laughed. “Okay.” He still hadn’t asked me out on a date — or mentioned the fact that I’d used his name — but maybe this was even better. A writing partner, and a man’s point of view at that. That would be great. Afterward, maybe we could get together … as a male-and-female writing team. I’d never read a book written like that, but I’d seen a few. It seemed like a great idea.
Seth scooped up his computer and shoved it back into his satchel. “Well, I have to go. I’m still at the firm, but things are coming together. I have the house up for sale, so we’ll see how that goes. It’s not as though I needed all that room anyway.”
I cocked my head as I thought about what he’d said. “By the way, why were you at the high school?”
“My daughter … she’s a senior.”
My eyes fell to his hands.
Seth laughed again. “Her mother and I have been divorced since she was two. It was a mistake right from the beginning.”
There was nothing to say, so I just nodded. I understood. Or, at least I think I understood. My marriage had been a mistake too. I should have just had Eric and carried on with my life. But I truly thought that Dick had loved me.
Seth stood and I just stared at him, wondering why he hadn’t come on to me in any way. Other than the Spin the Bottle comment, which I’d walked right into.
“Thank you, Jana,” he said sincerely as he flashed me a soft smile, then he turned and walked off. Obviously there was some reason he didn’t push for anything more than my email to swap books.
Once again, I’d not been able to ask him, but maybe that was better. It was clear he wasn’t looking for a relationship, and I certainly didn’t want to start one either. I’d just wanted someone to hang out with. And yet, I felt a little frustrated. Or was anxious the word for what I was feeling?
***
Instead of going to the local store that everyone knew, I drove all the way to Tampa. According to my research, the store was the largest on the West Coast and supposedly carried the model I wanted. Was model even the right word?
Before getting out of my truck, I peered around at the parking lot. Partly for my safety — the shop wasn’t located in the best part of town — but mostly to make sure that no one I knew was around.
Seeing that the coast was clear, I rushed out of my car and made a beeline for the door.
Inside, I tried to look cool, calm, and collected as I waded the aisles. There were hundreds of them … in every size, shape, and color … and powers. Yikes! I didn’t want to ask for help.
After a few minutes of back and forth, and gawking, a woman — thank God — approached me. “Can I help you find the right toy?”
“Toy?”
She smiled. “That’s what I call them. After all, they can definitely be a woman’s favorite t
oy.”
I chuckled nervously. “Oh … yeah. I wouldn’t know. But after looking at some of these …” I laughed again, and then preceded with the story I’d rehearsed on the drive here. “I’ve been put in charge of finding a toy, as you call it, for my friend’s divorce party. But I have no idea what to choose.
“I see …” The saleswoman started walking, so I followed. “Has your friend ever owned a toy?”
I bit down on my lip. “Uh, I don’t think so. She’s never mentioned owning one.”
The woman turned to me. “Has she ever mentioned how large her ex-husband was, and if his tool satisfied her?”
So a husband had a tool, but a fake one was a toy? “Uhhh … she didn’t mention that he was too small or too large, so I guess he was about average.”
“And your friend, does she like white men, or men of color?”
I could hardly contain my smile. I don’t think she has a preference, but she’s white, so maybe …”
The woman, Shauna, I finally read on her nametag smiled back. “I think I know exactly what your friend will like.” Shauna walked off and I followed again.
She walked behind a counter and then came out a few minutes later with a box. Shauna opened the box and then revealed an amazingly real-looking toy.
My jaw dropped, and I quickly closed it. I’d always imagined toys as being hard, straight rubber, but this one was natural looking in its color and ridges.
Shauna flopped it back and forth. “It’s soft and flexible, but firm. Here.” She held it out for me.
I shook my head. “That’s okay.”
She shook her head as she blew out a breath, trying not to giggle, it seemed. “You can touch it. It won’t bite.”
I reached out as I laughed. “I certainly hope not.”
“Make sure you buy your friend a water-based silicone gel to use with it, and tell her to only clean it with mild soap and water. After it’s dry, store it in its bag with a little cornstarch.” Shauna put the toy back in the box and handed it to me. “Tell her to enjoy. There’s nothing wrong with a little self-pleasure.”
I nodded and smiled. “Thank you. I will.”
I accepted the box and paid cash, thinking I’d need a couple extra glasses of red wine tonight.
Chapter 10 – No Worries!
It was Saturday, not a normal day that I went kayaking, but I planned to be gone all day, and I couldn’t do that when I had to pick Eric up from school. Eric was with Dick this weekend, though, so I decided that today was the day for two of my goals: tell Angela about the book I’d written. And paddle out to Egmont Key.
I’d already loaded my thirteen-foot kayak in the back of my Tacoma, along with plenty of water and snacks for the nearly three-mile round-trip run. Now I stood in front of Angela with a bright red folder, stuffed to the seams. Since I didn’t have the capability of two-sided printing, and I’d used Times New Roman 12 pt font and double spaced the lines, the manuscript came out to nearly four hundred pages.
Angela smiled. “Is this your last will and testament after you get run over by a cargo ship and then eaten by a bull shark?”
Ruffling her hair, which I know she hated, I laughed. “I’ll be fine, Angela. I checked the tides so I won’t be trying to come back when the tide is heading out. Also, the Gulf is as smooth as glass today, and the wind is coming out of the south. The conditions are perfect.”
Angela sighed. “I just don’t get why you have to do this.”
I shook my head. “I don’t have to do this. I want to do this.” I pointed to the folder in her hands. “That, I had to do.”
Seeming to have forgotten about the phonebook-sized folder in her hands, Angela looked down and then back up at me. “Is this what I think it is? Did you write … ?” She flipped open the cover. “Wait! You found something Gram wrote?”
Licking my lips, I smiled again. “I’m Carmen. After Gram.”
“Oh, Jana.” Tears flooded her eyes. “You wrote a book? And you’re using Gram’s name?”
“Well, part of her name.”
Angela reached out and smacked my shoulder. “How come you didn’t tell me about this?”
Ignoring her, I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around her, then leaned back. “Just let me know if it’s good enough, okay?” I stepped back. “I gotta go. Don’t want to be out there after dark. That would be dangerous.”
Angela sniffed and wiped her eyes. “Okay. Be careful. I’ll read it today.”
I’d already opened the front door to leave, but I turned back to her. “You don’t have to read it today. Just whenever you get a chance.”
“Okay.”
I rushed to my truck and hopped in before I started to talk. I just wanted her to read it and give me honest feedback, which I knew she would. No matter what people thought of her, Angela would speak her mind.
A block away, I pulled off to the side of the road … and cried. I’d been putting on a good front for Angela, my son, and … myself, but I was scared.
This was it. This was my real chance. Yes, I could scrimp by with the earnings from my review website, especially once Eric went off to college. His groceries alone cost close to three hundred dollars a month. Not to mention his use of water and electricity. I swear he took longer showers than I did. Of course, Dick had always warned me not to knock on the door while Eric was in the shower, stating it was natural for teenage boys to take long showers.
If I could make it as a writer — and I wasn’t thinking a New York Times bestselling author — I could support myself. I mean … really … how hard could it be to sell twenty books a day? Dick’s company typically sold twenty cars a day … fifty on Saturday. So, how hard would it be to sell a product that costs less than a latte at Starbucks?
I lifted my head off the steering wheel and sniffed away my tears. “I will do this!” As long as Angela likes it, and then Seth. Seth had agreed to read it too, but I wanted Angela to read it for any typos first.
Shifting the truck into drive, I sped off toward today’s challenge. I’d been kayaking for months now, but I hadn’t ventured too far from shore.
Egmont Key was located a little more than one and a half miles off the far tip of Pinellas County, where the Gulf of Mexico connected with Tampa Bay. The water was crystal clear, but since the pass allowed freighters and cruise ships into the port of Tampa Bay, it was also close to ninety-foot deep. The waterway would get wild too, with swift currents and larger waves than most beaches on the Gulf side of Florida. It wasn’t unusual to see surfers, especially during storms.
My reward, though … a lighthouse and the ruins of an old fort from the Spanish-American War. As Angela had suggested, I could have taken the ferry, but where was the challenge in that?
Like every other time when I’d started to unload my kayak from the portage carrier, a group of kids, sometimes a few older men, and every once and a while, a woman, would question where, what, and why I was paddling to wherever I was paddling.
But never men my age. Sometimes, college-aged paddlers would chat a bit, but not once had a man who was older than thirty, but less than fifty, talked to me. Not even to say, “Nice yak!”
“Yes, it’s mine,” I said to a boy who looked to be six. Young children were obsessed with whom things belonged to, it seemed. I could understand that. I knew how I’d felt when Dick signed over the deed to the house to me. It had felt like a safety net. Worst case, if I failed, I could sell the house and use the equity to pay for a small two-bedroom condominium. But I didn’t want to, not if I didn’t have to. I wanted Eric to be able to come home, even once he moved off to college. Just because his father had chosen to break up the family home didn’t mean that I had to.
“Do you ever see any sharks?” the young boy asked, his tone excited at the idea.
I smiled. “Sometimes.”
“Do they bite your boat?”
I giggled. “No. But … I did see some kids on Jetskis who were bothering a shark, which they shouldn’t have been …�
� The boy bounced his head up and down as if he agreed. “Well, the shark bit down on the back of one of the Jetskis. The rider was lucky that the shark didn’t chomp off the guy’s foot.”
The boy’s eyes grew wide and round. “Yeah …”
“You should never pick on someone else, huh? Especially someone or something that can’t defend itself, right?”
“No … Uh-uh.” The boy ran off toward his mother, screeching about a shark and bites and skis.
I shoved off from the beach, aiming for the southeast side of the waterway. The tide was going out, so if I headed southeast, I should end up at the tip of Egmont Key. If I headed straight across Lower Tampa Bay, the waterway that connects Tampa Bay to the Gulf of Mexico, I could end up fighting to get back to shore.
Thinking about Eric when he was the age as the boy on the beach, I smiled. He’d worshiped his father. I hoped that he and Dick would get along okay this weekend. Dick hadn’t invited Eric over much, not that Eric would have wanted to go anyway. He couldn’t stand Dick’s new woman. And since Dick hadn’t married her yet, Eric saw no sense in getting to know her.
But Dick had made Eric an offer he couldn’t refuse: a weekend trip to Orlando. Dick had booked a hotel near Universal Studios for three nights, and had promised him it’d be just them.
At least Dick realized that just because he lost me didn’t mean he had to lose his son too. I could never forgive Dick for his infidelity, but even though Eric might never forget what his father had done, he was certainly capable of forgiving him.
As I paddled, I attempted to put Dick … and everything else out of my mind. Hopefully, this would become a new tradition after I finished a book. I’d reward myself with a trip … anywhere. While working out of my house was the most enjoyable job I’d ever held, it certainly wasn’t the easiest. The problem: there wasn’t a quitting time. Other than stopping to pick up Eric or making dinner, I found that many days I put in well more than fifteen hours.
I inhaled the fresh air and delighted at the light mist on my face. A few times, I spotted a pod of porpoises and halted my paddling. I’d found that if I just sat still, they’d investigate. But I couldn’t sit long. The last thing I wanted was to be in the center of the channel when a tanker was coming through.
Some Lucky Woman Page 7
