Drunk Dial

by Penelope Ward

  Lilith interrupted his stare. “Earth to Landon.”

  “I’m sorry. You just remind me of someone.”

  “Is it Miss Piggy? Because someone at school said that once.”

  “No. Definitely not. You’re much prettier than Miss Piggy. Whoever said that doesn’t know diddly squat.”

  “Dudley who?”

  “Diddly squat.” He chuckled. “That means they don’t know anything.” Landon whispered to me, “And apparently, I know shit about talking to kids.”

  “I heard that,” Lilith scolded.

  “I’d better watch my language, then. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay. Rana said the F word once.”

  His eyes widened. “She did?”

  “Yeah. She slammed her hand in a door. She didn’t mean to swear. It just came out. I know not to repeat it. It was funny, though.”

  “She hears everything,” I told him before turning to her. “Guess what, Lilith? Landon is here to stay. He moved his stuff. He lives here in Michigan now.”

  “Are you moving in with Rana?”

  He looked at me, unsure of how to answer. I nodded to let him know he should tell her the truth.

  “I am.”

  “I hope you know how to cook. Rana can pretty much only boil water.”

  Looking amused, Landon glanced over at me. “I have it covered.” He was learning what a little pistol she was.

  “So, Lil, I was thinking we’d show Landon our favorite yogurt spot.”

  Landon’s eyes lit up. “What’s this, now? Sounds like I’ve been missing out.”

  “Rana likes to throw a bunch of chocolate on the sugar free, fat free yogurt.” She giggled. “Her diets are really funny.”

  He laughed. “That sounds like cheating to me.”

  When we got to FroyoLand, Lilith was quite entertained by Landon’s attempt to get his money’s worth by piling almost every topping over a mountain of three different kinds of yogurt. Since it was a flat price, you could fill the cup as much as you wanted. Landon had definitely gone overboard.

  Lilith challenged him. “There’s no way you’re gonna eat all that.”

  He lifted his brow. “Wanna bet?”

  “I love bets. How much?”

  “How much you got?”

  “Two dollars.”

  “You’re on.”

  “How about this, Lilith. If you win, I’ll make it five.”

  “I’m cool with that.”

  He winked. “I bet you are.”

  It was hysterical to watch Landon gorging on the yogurt. He was pretending to love it, but I could tell after a while he was getting pretty sick. Lilith sat watching him with her chin leaning against her hands. She was thoroughly entertained. We’d both finished our own yogurts well before Landon even made a dent.

  He held onto his abs, exaggerating an upset stomach. “Okay, Sassypants. You win.”

  Lilith clapped and jumped up and down in her seat as Landon handed her a crisp, five-dollar bill from his wallet.

  I noticed that she’d been carrying around a small bag with her, which was unusual. “What’s in the bag?”

  “It’s a gift for Landon and the paper I wrote about you, Rana. I got an A on it. I was gonna read it to you.”

  “You didn’t have to get me anything.” Landon leaned in. “And I’d love to hear what you wrote.”

  “Okay.” She looked uncharacteristically bashful when she asked, “What do you want first? The gift or the Rana thing?”

  “Let’s hear what you wrote.” Landon winked.

  Lilith adjusted her glasses and opened the notebook. She cleared her throat and began to read.

  “Rana by Lilith Anastasia Allen.” She looked up at me once. I gave her a reassuring smile before she continued, “We were asked to write about someone we admire. I am writing about Rana instead. Because she’s funnier than Amelia Earhart or Michelle Obama. And no one else is going to write about Rana. Who is Rana? Well, she comes to visit me once a week and spends time with me for no reason. I don’t even really know where she came from. Mars, maybe. But that doesn’t matter. There are a lot of places in the world that Rana could choose to be, but she chooses to be with me. Sometimes she probably doesn’t have the time or maybe isn’t feeling good. But she shows up anyway. Except this week, but I forgive her because she’s in California with a boy she has a crush on. His name is Landon, and he owns a lunch truck with really cool sandwiches. Like not bologna. Really cool ones. But back to Rana. Her hair is really, really long, and if you want to know what she looks like, look up Princess Jasmine from Aladdin. That’s her. One time she came to see me with two different pairs of shoes on. I didn’t tell her because I thought it was funny that she didn’t notice. And another time, the tag was still hanging off of her shirt. I didn’t tell her that, either. She’s also late a lot and smells like bus fumes. Even though she is a mess sometimes, she still finds the time to see me, to ask me how I am, and to play with me. She’s not perfect, but she taught me that it’s okay not to be. Do you have a Rana? If not, I feel really bad for you. So, I don’t want to be Rana when I grow up. Because there’s only one Rana. And she’s my friend.”

  I knew she didn’t mean to make me cry, but I couldn’t help tearing up. Landon grabbed my hand and squeezed it. He knew how much her words meant. It made me so happy that she considered me a friend and recognized my devotion to her, even if she had no clue where it originated.

  “That was amazing.” I wiped my nose with my sleeve. “Thank you for choosing to write about me.”

  Landon rubbed my back. “Seriously, Lilith, I think if I didn’t already know how awesome Rana is, I would totally want to meet her after that.”

  “You want your present now?”

  “Sure.”

  Lilith handed him the bag.

  Landon reached in and took out what looked like a bun of artificial hair that was almost the exact shade of brown as his own strands.

  What the?

  His mouth hung open. “This is…wow. What is it?”

  “It’s a clip-on man bun.”

  “Where did you get that?” I asked.

  “Online. I had a gift card from Christmas. I didn’t use the whole thing, just part of it. I’ve been holding onto this present for a while.”

  Landon was trying not to laugh. “How do you know about man buns?”

  “This girl in school…her dad has one. Some boys were making fun of him. Ava told them off and explained that it was actually a cool thing. Before that, I thought only girls wore buns.”

  “Your mom didn’t question you buying it?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Put it on,” I insisted.

  Landon struggled to open the clasp. Unable to contain my laughter, I took it from him and proceeded to clip it onto his head.

  He flashed a crooked grin. “How do I look?”

  Truthfully, he looked pretty hot with it.

  “Buntastic.” She laughed.

  “Well, I will proudly wear this and think of you, Sassypants.” He turned his head toward me fast, causing the bun to fall out.

  The three of us were cracking up.

  On the ride home, Lilith and Landon bonded over music. He let her control his phone as she scrolled through songs. She took the front seat while I sat in the back.

  Landon pulled up to her house and put the car in park.

  She reached her hand into her pocket and took out the five-dollar bill that he had given her.

  “I know I won, but I want you to keep it and use it to buy Rana something pretty.”

  “No. You won this fair and square.”

  “You let me win. You could have totally eaten it all. Look at you. You’re huge.” She exited the car before he could argue with her and ran toward the steps to her house.

  After she was out of sight, Landon turned to me after I moved to the front seat.

  “Well, I think we found your missing nose. She looks just like you did.”

  “I know.”r />
  “It was like looking at you.” His eyes were filled with emotion. “She’s an amazing kid—so clever and compassionate.”

  “Well, I can’t take credit for any of it.”

  “Sure, you can. She admires you and clearly appreciates the time you spend with her. And honestly, some things are innate. She has a very similar spirit to you, even if you didn’t raise her.” He looked down and asked, “You told me you know who her father is, right?”

  “Yes. The timing of the pregnancy thankfully narrowed it down to one boy. His name was Ethan. He wanted nothing to do with me at the time. I didn’t even want to tell Ethan, but my grandmother made me. We both went to his parents’ house one night, and they practically kicked us out when we told them. I don’t know whether they didn’t believe us or whether they just didn’t want to.”

  “At least you tried.”

  “It was a very messy time.”

  We were still parked. Landon stared contemplatively at Lilith’s house. “I wonder if he ever thinks about it now, if he ever wonders if his baby is out there somewhere.”

  “Honestly, I would say that he probably deserves to feel that regret, but I wasn’t that much better of a person or much more responsible back then.”

  “You definitely weren’t responsible, but that doesn’t make you a bad person.” He looked down at his phone at a picture he had snapped of her. “I worry about her reaction if she finds out, though.”

  Blowing out a long breath, I said, “You’re not the only one.”

  “I think it could go either way, Rana. It could be really good or really bad.”

  “The only reason I haven’t told her is because I’m not allowed to. Her parents have to agree that it’s in her best interest to know.”

  “I just remember thinking that I wished my parents had told me the full truth sooner. It felt like I’d been living a lie. In her case, she knows she’s adopted you said?”

  “Yes. Her mother told her that she’s technically not her birth mother. So, at least that part won’t be a shock.”

  “What does her adoptive father do?”

  “He’s a psychiatrist, actually. Both of the Allens are very well-educated. They’re good people.”

  “What did her mother tell her about her birth mother…you?”

  “I honestly never asked Beth how she explained it, and Lilith doesn’t talk about it. In a way, that’s a relief because I don’t know how I would handle it if she did…you know…if she talked to me about me.”

  “I can imagine that when she’s a bit older, she’s going to start digging,” he said. “Once I found out, it was like I couldn’t rest until I knew exactly where I came from.”

  WINE STOPPER

  The following morning, I was sorting through some mail at the kitchen counter when Landon came up behind me.

  The sensation of his bare chest warming my back was like no other feeling.

  “Mmm.” Turning around, I giggled when I noticed he was wearing the man bun. “I’m kind of digging it.”

  “I thought you might. Won’t hurt to try me out once with it, right? If it works for you, I’ll wear it again.”

  Looking down at his abs, I noticed a tattoo that I had never seen before. It was so tiny, located just at the bottom of his carved V.

  I smiled, running my finger over it. “Is that new?”

  “I’ve been waiting for you to notice.”

  “Is that supposed to be me?”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think it is.” I grinned like a fool. “When did you get it?”

  “Right before I left Venice Beach. There’s actually a funny story surrounding it.”

  “Really?”

  “So, I was in the truck, clearing out some of the stuff I wasn’t leaving behind, and I hear someone yelling, ‘Rana!...Rana!’ So, of course I bolt out of the truck. My heart is fucking pounding, thinking it has something to do with you, because you’re all I fucking think about. So, if someone says ‘Rana’…I think…you, right?”

  I covered my mouth in amusement. “That is so freaking funny.”

  “So, I tracked down the source, and it was these two little Mexican boys. They were chasing a fucking frog. The thing was leaping around and shit. I had totally forgotten that your name means frog in Spanish.” He shook his head. “After I realized my mistake, I sat on the grass and just laughed hysterically. People walking by probably thought I was a lunatic. That afternoon, I couldn’t help myself. I went to see my favorite tattoo artist in Venice. I figured I’d kill two birds with one stone and say goodbye to him, too. I told him to tattoo this little frog down low on my abs. Figured it was more original than your name above my cock.”

  Running my finger over his skin, I said, “I love it.”

  The ‘R’ rolled off his tongue. “Ranita.” He smiled. “Little frog.”

  “God, you sound sexy talking in Spanish.”

  “Really? I got more where that came from.”

  “Yeah? Say something else.”

  “Let’s see.” Closing his eyes, he pondered what to say before coming out with, “Quiero metértelo por el culo, mi amor.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I want to fuck your ass, my love.”

  “That’s so romantic.”

  “It will be romantic.”

  “Is that so?”

  “My brand of romance, yes. You’ll be begging for it by the time I get done teasing you. Want a little preview?”

  Feeling extremely horny, I bit my bottom lip. “Yes, I would.”

  Landon left the kitchen and returned about a minute later. He was holding what looked like a small, pointed dildo with a flared base that was made out of silicone.

  “What is that?”

  “What do you think it is?”

  “A wine stopper?”

  “It’s a butt plug.”

  “Where did you get it?”

  “I bought it…for us. To play with.”

  “For your butt?”

  “Well, I hadn’t really thought of that, but, no, I bought it with your ass in mind, actually.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck. “How many other toys are you hiding?”

  He kissed me then said, “A few.”

  “Really…”

  I faced the counter so that my back was toward him then briefly turned around to watch as he slowly licked the tip of his toy to wet it a bit; that was so erotic. I closed my eyes, loosening my muscles. Spreading my legs apart, I prepared for what I knew was coming.

  I could suddenly hear the door open.

  His body jolted behind me. “Who the fuck is here?”

  My father’s voice echoed through the apartment from down the hall. “Hallooooo.”

  “Shit!” Landon scrambled to adjust himself and tossed the butt plug across the room.

  Papa walked into the kitchen carrying a giant pineapple.

  Trying my best to seem casual, I said, “Papa, you should’ve called first.”

  “I no-call. Why you need me to call first? I come to see him.” My father narrowed his eyes at Landon. “Why you have girly hair like ballerina?”

  “It’s not real.” Landon was out of breath as he took the bun off. “Eddie…it’s good to see you.” He offered his hand.

  As they shook, my father looked confused and asked, “Where you living?”

  He knew Landon had moved to Michigan, but we hadn’t broken the news that we would be living together.

  Unsure of whether to admit we were shacking up, Landon looked at me. I shrugged. There was no sense in hiding it.

  “I’m living here, actually.”

  My father looked between Landon and me. He wasn’t happy. As much as I knew he wanted me to date again, he was very conservative and didn’t believe in living together before marriage. Landon knew that.

  He surprised me when he looked my father in the eye and said, “I know you don’t agree with what we’re doing. But I don’t want her living alone anymor
e. I want to be able to help her financially, and honestly, even if that wasn’t an issue, I don’t want to live apart from your daughter. I’ve already spent too much time away from her. I know you can relate to feeling protective of Rana. You’ve had to be the main person looking after her for practically her entire life. But I want you to know that now you have a second set of eyes. I want nothing but the best for her, too. Because I love her. And it’s really important to me that you understand that. I’m going to be here whether you’re okay with it or not, but I plan to earn your trust.”

  My father just nodded silently. I knew he had heard Landon loud and clear. The fact that he hadn’t chosen to argue about it meant that he had essentially accepted it.

  Papa walked over to the other side of the kitchen. He placed the pineapple on the counter.

  Landon and I both looked at each other in fear as my father then bent down to pick up something off the floor. It was the butt plug Landon had hastily tossed.

  “What’s this?”

  “That’s a wine stopper,” I said.

  Papa looked skeptical. “Hmm.”

  I snatched it from him and threw it in the utensil drawer. “So, where did you get the pineapple?”

  “I love pineapple.” Landon smiled, attempting to further shift the conversation away from the butt plug.

  My dad answered my question, “Farmer’s market.” Carrying it over to the table along with a knife and a few plates and forks, he nudged his head for us to follow him.

  Papa and I often sat at the table alone eating sliced fruit. For the first time ever, we had someone joining us, and I somehow knew that this was the start of a new family tradition.

  Landon and I used our forks in a race to snatch up the slices that my father was cutting.

  We ate in silence until Papa surprised us when he said, “Next time, I call first before I come.”

  Landon looked excited when he entered the apartment. “I need to show you something.”

  “The last time you said that I got quite an eyeful.”

  “It’s not anything like that, baby.”

  “What is it?”

  “It’s outside.” He placed his hand on my waist, prompting me to follow him out the door.

  Parked outside on the street was a beige-colored truck that looked a lot like the shape of Landon’s Lunch Box.