by Leah Holden
“Bad idea!”
“Okay…”
“Find someone with money. How are you going to manage to look after another kid by yourself if the dad is a poverty-stricken, dickhead?”
“I think I’d better go,” I said because I wasn’t faring any better here with Ria than I had with Shellie.
“Oh, don’t be upset. I’m just asking you to face facts about lover boy,” Ria said.
“I’m not in the mood, Ria. I’ll catch you later.”
“Okay. I’m sorry for upsetting you,” she said. She actually managed to look contrite for a change because she knew that once I’d got an idea in my head, it was pretty much fixed in there with cement.
“Yeah, you should be.”
Really, so far, all I’d actually achieved was to confirm that best friends and sisters were unsympathetic at best and at their very worst, they could be annoying in the extreme.
“Look, Shannie” Ria’s voice took on a softer tone, “You should think hard about this; it is possible that in the history of bad ideas, yours is far more up there than mine. You already have one child who’s a bit of a handful.”
“Josh is not a handful!” I was immediately defensive.
“Okay. He needs a lot of attention then, and you are a single parent.”
“I’m managing.”
“Yes, that’s my point. You deserve more than just managing. You deserve to have a supportive spouse and enough resources to care for you and your children so that you can have a good quality of life.”
“I do okay,” was all I could think of saying because this was not what I had come to hear. I needed encouragement because my decision was not about to be changed.
“Okay,” said Ria, “But do me one favor?”
“What’s that?”
“Don’t tell Mom just yet.”
“Now that’s the first sensible thing you’ve said since I got here.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
I was probably about ninety-five percent sure that my current love interest, Todd, wasn’t the one, but hey, how do you know if someone’s the right one?
I had clearly developed a knack for picking the wrong one. My own engagement to Josh’s father had ended abruptly when, on returning home from work early one afternoon, I’d discovered him ass up with a neighbor.
I hadn’t been too surprised because I’d been feeling for some time that he’d been a bit off. My psychic senses had been running riot but I’d been in total denial. What I’d actually found out was that, despite our upcoming marriage, Mark had been sleeping with another woman for the better part of six months. Much later, I found out that he’d apparently had an internet account on a dating site for people wanting to commit adultery—and he hadn’t even been married yet! He had clearly believed in starting as he meant to continue.
Obviously, I’d been keen to ditch him once the ugly truth was out but it had damaged me enormously.
Since that colossal failure, I’d had a few brief relationships if you could even call them that—maybe they were more like dating episodes. I’d even had a couple of engagement which I’d broken off because getting married to avoid being alone was such a dumb idea.
Mostly, though, I was now alone because I’d become a bit of a commitment-phobe with trust issues. Still, I was a healthy girl with libidinal urges that needed attention. So, what was a girl to do? It wasn’t like I had a string of ‘eligibles’ lining up outside my door on any given day.
Of this one thing I was now certain however, I could not afford to make too many more mistakes. Nor could I afford to dawdle—I didn’t want to hang around until my reproductive eggs were totally fried!
The way things were looking, I’d just have to settle for Todd—at least just for now; just until I’d got past this obsession with having another baby. Once I had the baby, I planned on shutting up shop—no more relationships—just my kids and me. I didn’t need a man in my life on a permanent basis to validate my existence.
Todd had managed to father two kids previously so at least he wasn’t firing blanks. I tried not to think about the part where most of his salary probably had to go towards child support payments.
I figured Todd had to be as safe a bet as any other man I was prepared to take the risk with and try to conceive. He was the condom king of the Greater Toronto Area—well, as far as I was concerned anyway. My biggest job would be to get him to lose the condom at the right time of the month, then BAM—baby mama on the way! At least, that was the theory.
In practice, Todd didn’t really want any more kids. But that was okay too because, the last time I checked, he didn’t have a womb so I couldn’t figure out what he was bitching about.
I wanted kids—well, maybe just the one more and, in order to achieve that, I didn’t exactly need to hold out for the love of a good man or, with my luck, a bad man. It didn’t take a genius to figure this stuff out and I didn’t need to be in love for this to work; I just needed the baby-making goodies.
According to the websites I’d been reading lately, the average man emits somewhere between forty million to two-hundred-and-fifty million sperm in any one session. So, the way I saw it, although Todd was not the most memorable lover I’d ever had, surely even he should be able to produce one good sperm? I mean, that’s all you really need to make a baby—one out of forty million. In the greater scheme of things, that’s really not a lot to ask for. Anyway, he owed me big time for putting up with all that crappy sex over the past three years.
However, I would have to think about the baby-making problem later because it was time to pick Josh up from school. Although Josh was quite able to walk home by himself, I just knew that even a small amount of sunshine would aggravate his eczema and he’d end up scratching all night.
I grabbed my keys and headed out
The first thing Josh said when he saw me was, “Why do I have to go to school, Mom?”
That’s it? That’s all my child has to say to me after not seeing me all day?
I stared at Josh as I tried to think of an answer.
Really, I wanted to tell him that he had to go to school because it made for a great babysitting service while parents worked to pay taxes that in turn paid the teachers. I wanted to tell him that once you grow up, there were all these unpaid bills waiting for you and schools were there to help to prepare you for the shock. I wanted to tell him that when your parents got too old to pay bills and taxes, it was your turn, and kids needed to be prepared for that second shock. I wanted to tell my son that school would prepare him for the long haul, the relentless day-in, day-out drudgery of life.
I didn’t tell him any of those things because, really, how the hell was I supposed to know why kids had to go to school? Maybe I needed to think about that for a while—you know, maybe I could get back to him in a day or so…
Hey son, don’t call me, I’ll call you!
In the meantime, my immediate situation was that I was no longer allowed to kiss Josh in public, and most definitely not in front of his school-mates. So, I kind of threw him a weary smile and said, “Hello Josh, darling. It’s so good to see you too. I missed you today. Did you have a nice day? I know I didn’t, but thank you very much for not asking—oh and I love you too.”
Josh stared at me pitifully through his glasses which always seemed to be on the verge of sliding off his nose.
“Mom, you’re being weird; people are gonna hear you.”
I looked around at the other equally stressed-out parents.
“Call it light entertainment,” I said.
“Can we just go home, Mom?” He wasn’t sounding too happy.
“Sure thing,” I said.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Josh said as I settled into the driver’s seat.
“What question was that, love?”
“Why do I have to go to school? Why can’t I just get home-schooled?”
I tried to conceal my horror at his suggestion. Some days, my only relief from dealing with a kid with very
specific needs was when he left for school and I could get some personal space. I saw school days as a bit of respite They gave me chance to recharge my battery and get things done. I banished the guilt I felt for thinking that because, although I loved Josh more than life itself, even I had to admit that sometimes he was kind of hard work.
I glanced at him as I turned the key in the ignition and the engine roared to life.
“You need a good education to get a good job,” I said. “Besides, I’m not a teacher, so I couldn’t really teach you all that wonderful stuff you learn at school.”
“I hate school.” He said the last bit with such feeling that I felt a wave of pity for all of about two seconds.
“Okay, then, you’d miss your friends,” I was starting to feel desperate.
“I can make it without them,” he said soberly.
I choked back the laughter that threatened to erupt and quickly put on my serious parent face.
“That’s too bad darling, because you’ve got about another eight years at school, and at least two in college after that, so you’ve got to find a way to start liking it.”
He lapsed into a silent sulk.
“Okay, Josh, so are you going to tell me what happened today?”
“I hate Miss Josephs. She always picks on me. Today all the other children got to watch a movie and I had to put my head down.”
Aha! So now we were getting to the real problem.
“What d’you mean you had to put your head down?”
“She said I couldn’t watch the movie because I was talking in class, but I wasn’t, Mom. Ethan and Luke were making fun of me and I told them to shut up, and she only shouted at me. I hate school, I’m never going back and you can’t make me!”
I looked over at my son and tried to keep the despair out of my voice.
“You’ll feel better tomorrow, sweetheart.”
Silence.
I tried again, “Do you need a hug?”
Nothing.
He’d dried up. Not even a few crocodile tears.
We drove home in the silence. Every so often I sent my son a little glance. He was looking out of the window as if he had developed a deep bond with his environment.
Thank God it was Friday, and he was doing a sleepover with his best friend, Noah.
Once we got home, dinner and Scooby on Netflix seemed to cheer Josh up and I breathed a sigh of relief. His current behavior was possibly the only thing that could derail my baby-making plans. I mean, did I really want two Joshes stressing me out on a daily basis?
After dinner, I finally managed to get Josh to do some of his homework and sorted out his gear. The sleepover was a fairly regular thing so there weren’t too many instructions to be issued once I’d dropped Josh off. For my own good parental behavior, I was actually allowed to hug and kiss him goodbye.
“Text me later,” I instructed in between squeezing in a second hug as he shouldered the backpack that contained his overnight gear.
“Okay, Mom, I’ve gotta go. I love you.”
There they were. Those three words that you need to hear at least once a day. In my case, I was hearing it from my number one son and I was a happy girl. I was going to be okay. My son loved me and he loved the job I was doing raising him.
On returning home, I was thinking that apart from the fact that I really hated being in the house by myself, I would truly miss Josh. We were a team and it always felt weird when he was out.
The upside, of course, was that the evening was mine. I was young-ish, free-ish and single-ish—so I called Todd.
“I’ll come over in an hour or so,” he said.
Great! That meant we’d watch TV until a respectable time and then we’d go to bed.
On average, sex with Todd was usually like a military operation; in and out before anyone could notice—quick and painful with someone getting hurt—oh yeah, and that someone was usually me.
So the next logical question would be why settle for him? This in itself was not a bad question but it wasn’t one that I felt any obligation to answer. I mean, it wasn’t as if I needed a psychotherapist or anything; I was sure I had good reasons. For starters, there was the whole trying-to-have-a-baby plan and I had long since figured out that one loser was as good as another.
CHAPTER NINE
Todd took longer than an hour to come over. He rarely came over too early anyway, because then he’d have to take me out or make meaningful conversation. I’d managed to pin him down to meaningful conversation once and let’s just say he could come as late as he liked.
I kissed him on the cheek when he came through the door.
“Jeez, Davies, can’t keep your hands off me?”
That use of my last name in greeting would be Todd’s main attempt at an endearment. Typically, there was very little hand-holding and even less kissing even while sitting down watching a movie, or whatever.
“Something like that,” I said.
“So, what’chya got to eat?”
Flowers you mean bastard. You’re supposed to bring me flowers!
I stared at him for a long moment with hot displeasure. I hoped he hadn’t taken up the ancient art of mind-reading.
“I’ve got some of the chicken and rice I made for Josh.”
“You’re offering me leftovers?”
I looked at him seriously, “You can starve, eat the food, or order a take-out,” I hissed because now my thoughts were running along the lines of, ‘you could also bring some wine, you mean stiff.’
“I’ll have the chicken.”
“I thought you would,” I managed to grind out.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing, sweetheart.”
“Jeez, Shaniah, if it’s a major problem, I’ll call up Swiss Chalet or the Mandarin and get a take-out.”
“I said you could have the chicken, didn’t I?”
“What’s with you anyway?” he asked. “You’re not having one of your headaches are you?”
Like screw this idiot, I swear to God, if it wasn’t for the whole baby-making idea!
I stared at him wordlessly.
“Hey, I’m just asking,” he said. “You’ve gotta admit, you’re being a pain.”
“I love you too,” I said sarcastically because right then, I had already started to ask myself if anything was really worth putting up with all this crap.
Todd grunted and took hold of the remote control and settled down to watch TV while I looked after the left-overs. It was absolutely amazing how he was always able to find some ball game or other to watch.
The microwave pinged.
“Are you going to eat in front of the TV or in the kitchen?” I asked looking around for a tray.
“Put it on a tray, the game’s just getting going.”
I gave him the food and watched him tuck in as he gesticulated wildly at the TV and made unintelligible sounds. Really, he’d hardly evolved much from cave man state.
“Are you coming to watch the game with me?”
I was totally wowed that he’d remembered that I was actually in the house.
“No, I think I’ll take a shower.”
I’d deliberately delayed taking a shower because I was hoping he’d get the vision and join me. Yeah—not likely to happen, I guess.
After the shower, I put on a thong with a nice little red flower motif on the front despite the fact that I didn’t think that lover-boy would notice the flower. I also donned a short black silk robe and joined him in the den.
Todd was still focused on the game. Really, I never understood how anyone could sit there for hours watching other people make loads of money when they had their own unpaid bills mounting up.
I sat as close to him as I could and even tried to move in for a snuggle. So, a girl could live in hope, right!
“Jeez, Davies, you smell good; you wanna go to bed?”
Well yeah—that had been my original intention. Man, why had I wasted good energy coming into this room? Maybe if I pretended
he was someone else… like maybe even Jared, I might actually have some fun.
Now, why had I thought of Jared just then? Of course, I recoiled immediately from the thought. I’d been congratulating myself that I’d pretty much wiped all memory of him clean from my mind. I cleared my throat and tried to refocus.
“What about the game?” I said, because the last thing I wanted was for him to be thinking about the football match in the middle of things—might affect the sperm count.
“Aw, this is a repeat; just the highlights you know.”
I’d been playing second fiddle to highlights? Maybe I should just kill the bastard now!
I struggled with temptation for a few moments.
“You should try watching Sue Johnson,” I said.
“Who’s she?”
“She gives advice to couples, you know.”
“I don’t need advice—I could do with some action though.”
Trust me; you need a lot of advice.
Maybe I’d text him a link to one of her shows. She had to be on YouTube, at least. I wasn’t sure if she was still making videos, or if she was even alive, but Todd needed her.
I walked back to the bedroom because the idea of killing him wasn’t really going away as quickly as I’d like. He followed me and I eyed up my bed, hopefully. I looked at Todd equally hopefully—yeah!
In all the romance novels I’d read, the man would have approached me by now and would be whispering sexy things in my ear possibly moving his tongue gently along my earlobes. The feel of his breath would be awakening feelings deep within me that I hadn’t known were lurking there.
He would put his arms on my shoulder and gently move his palm down to caress my throat, my chest, the smooth mound of my breasts, stroking them oh so gently.
My breathing would be coming in short gulps. I would be overcome with a great need as we would fall on the bed, wrapped in our exclusive need for each other. I would go on top first and move over him. Then he would pull me beneath him and we would be carried away on clouds, only coming back to earth after we had both climaxed. Then we would lay there looking at one another, spent in our love, a healthy sheen of sweat covering our languishing bodies.
