Along for the Ride

by Mimi Grace

  “No, it’s okay. And I was working. Kind of.”

  “Sure. So, anyone interesting you’ve matched with recently?”

  Jolene had signed up for a dating app two weeks ago. She intended to keep it private. Her own tepid reintroduction into the dating scene, but Yvonne had seen the app on her phone and now felt invested in her romantic happiness. Jolene wasn’t even sure if she wanted a full-fledged relationship yet. But she was horny and refused to deal with the men she worked with.

  “Why do you assume I was swiping through candidates?” Jolene asked as she walked to her office door and scanned the hallway for any eavesdroppers. She shut it and turned toward her friend.

  “Because you had that look on your face that’s pensive but also slightly disturbed?”

  Jolene let out an exhausted sigh.

  “So?” Yvonne sat on the edge of Jolene’s desk and played with a paperweight. Her cigarette trousers and billowy dress shirt made her look like a chic pirate.

  “No. Why is everyone in this city obsessed with tapas? I’d also appreciate conversations that don’t revolve around the same three TV shows. Also, dick pics. So many unwanted dick pics.”

  “So, I’m guessing you haven’t gone out with anyone, then.”

  Jolene scrunched up her face. “No, but for a second, I thought I’d accidentally matched with Mark, but it turned out to be a random guy who looked eerily like him.”

  Mark was a man who ran in their professional circles.

  “Girl, eliminate the look-alike and the weirdos who send pictures of their penises and give the ones who are mildly interesting and attractive a chance. Most people don’t shine over text.”

  Jolene didn’t say anything because of course that was the most logical next step. And she had a few conversations going on with a couple men that weren’t completely horrible.

  “Unless you have a person in mind, and all these guys are just placeholders,” Yvonne said.

  “Subtle.”

  It had been five weeks since her trip with Jason, and she had been unable to shake off the feeling she missed him. It was ridiculous, but it explained why she found herself thinking about him or what he might be doing at a particular moment. She would catch herself doing it and silently scold herself and then fall into doing it again a few hours later. She’d told Yvonne about their night in the motel room, and what should have been a blip on her sexual experience chart had become a talking point whenever love, sex, and relationships came up.

  “You know how I feel. Call him and put yourself out of this misery,” Yvonne said, pointing to Jolene’s phone.

  The look on Jolene’s face made Yvonne laugh.

  “Even if I were to go against every instinct in my body and call him, I don’t want to date anyone right now.”

  “Well, who said anything about dating? You might not be ready now, but you’ll eventually want a relationship, and why should you not have fun in the meantime?”

  Jolene actually mulled over it. “What would I say? ‘Hey Jason, it’s Jolene. I haven’t stopped thinking about having sex with you. Wanna do it again?’”

  “Yeah, why not?”

  Well, first, the thought of proposing such a thing and Jason swiftly rejecting her sounded like just the thing to further delay her reentrance into the dating scene. Her marriage had been one of the first things in her life that she’d committed to without reservations or outside pressure. When it ended, her confidence had been shaken. It felt like she’d trusted the ground beneath her feet only for it to crack and engulf her in a cavern of heartbreak and shame. She never wanted to experience that again. So, she couldn’t repeat old habits; she had to be more judicious during the dating process.

  “Okay, this is getting too involved for a Tuesday afternoon,” Jolene said as she grabbed her tablet and coffee mug and walked out of her office. “We’re going to be late.”

  She and Yvonne walked the long hallways before entering a small boardroom where an intern already sat. The clients, the two owners of the apothecary line, were just taking their seats.

  “Jolene,” Jessica, part owner of Essential Essence Apothecary, immediately said as she leapt from her seat before she and Yvonne could fully enter the room. “You told me these trolls would leave me alone once I apologized and donated money to that anti-bullying thing. It’s been weeks and they’re still all over my ass on social media.”

  “Good afternoon, Jessica”—Jolene looked at the other owner seated next to Jessica appearing decidedly anxious—“Carmen.”

  Carmen responded with an apologetic smile and nod.

  “Well?” Jessica asked, still standing as if she might launch herself across the table if Jolene didn’t provide her with a good enough response.

  “Jessica,” Jolene said in the same tone one might use to coax a terrified animal from its hiding place. “As I said before, the social media heat is unlikely to go away completely, but the most important thing is to—”

  “Not respond, I know. But how the hell am I supposed to promote anything when people keep spamming my social media pages with pasta emojis?”

  The video of Jessica completely going off on a waitress who had delivered a wrong order, a linguini rather than a risotto, wasn’t flattering. It had shown Jessica getting unnecessarily loud, threatening to withhold a tip from the waitress, and “accidentally” spilling her glass of water onto the table. Folks had been angry and had gone to social media wielding their pasta emojis and written disapproval to mock and admonish Jessica and by extension, Essential Essence.

  Jolene herself had been more than tempted to downsize the planned campaign when she finally watched the video. Jessica had already proven to be a difficult client even before the fiasco. She didn’t trust Jolene’s expertise and questioned her every step of the way. But Carmen, the sweet second half of the business, had begged them not to change their plans. Carmen had invested so much into the business, and even sitting here, she sent apologetic glances and smiles on behalf of her saboteur who happened to be her childhood friend and business partner.

  “All right, Jessica. You’re only to go onto your personal social media when either Erin”—Jolene pointed to the intern—“or I give you preplanned posts.”

  After the meeting that included drafting Carmen and Jessica’s vision for their launch party at the beginning of September, Jolene and Yvonne walked their clients out. Jolene smiled and waved goodbye when they entered the elevator, and she bit down the sarcastic comment she wanted to make under her breath.

  “You’re still coming to spin class with me this week, right?” Yvonne asked. They stopped at the junction between their offices. Yvonne’s girlfriend, Diana, had been called in as the understudy last minute for an opera role. It was fantastic, but that meant she had flown east to Montreal to fulfill the role. It left Yvonne without anyone to go to the last week of a six-week program she’d found on Groupon.

  Jolene sent her friend a weary side-glance. “The loud music and strobe lights are going to give me harrowing flashbacks to my early twenties.”

  “Ha, so I guess this week is about reintroductions in more ways than one.”

  It was a Saturday afternoon, and Jolene had found her way outdoors to do some shopping at the local farmer’s market. Yesterday, she’d regained full range of motion in her legs after a brutal spin class, and she’d decided to celebrate by picking up some produce she promised herself she would use in a recipe she didn’t have yet.

  Jolene studied some onions for a moment before putting a couple in her canvas bag. A gentle tap on her forearm drew her attention. A short, brown-skinned woman in her sixties stood beside her. Her white hair had been cut into an edgy bob, and she wore a large straw visor.

  “Could you grab those leeks for me, love?” The older woman sweetly smiled and pointed to the vegetables just out of her reach. She had a slight accent that Jolene couldn’t place.

  “Oh, for sure,” Jolene said, handing two to the woman.

  “Thank you.” The woman sm
iled up at her. “You look so familiar.”

  Jolene had never seen this woman in her life, but she smiled and shrugged, not knowing exactly how to respond.

  The woman turned her head and called out, “Elizabeth.”

  Another woman in her sixties emerged from the makeshift aisles of the farmer’s market. She stood slightly taller and slimmer than the plump woman before her, but she wore an identical straw visor. Her dress had a lovely floral detail across the neckline. Jolene inwardly groaned, knowing from experience with the aunties in her family that she could expect to be subjected to intense analysis until the two figured out why she looked like a particular person they knew. But before she could come up with a polite way to extricate herself from the situation, another person rounded the corner close behind the woman in the dress.

  “Jason,” Jolene said. Her heart rattled within the confines of her chest, jarred by the sudden appearance of the man who had occupied her thoughts for the last five weeks. How could one person be that handsome? He dressed much in the same way he had the last time she’d seen him, casual and hot as hell.

  “Jason, you know her?” the woman with the cool haircut asked.

  If Jolene hadn’t been staring at him so intently, she wouldn’t have seen the way his eyes had widened.

  “Mom, this is Nicole’s sister, Jolene. The one I drove with when I helped Ty and Nicole move last month.”

  The two women turned to Jolene with their mouths open in silent Os.

  “Yes, yes. Of course,” Jason’s mother said, studying Jolene’s face and smiling.

  Jolene was stuck. Her mind played a relay of table tennis as it tried to pinpoint the appropriate thing to say in this situation. She had the unnatural urge to tell Jason she had thought about him a lot. But Jolene knew, like she knew pale pink was not her color, admitting that would be the worst thing to say in this situation.

  “And Jolene this is my mother, Nadine, and my aunt, Liza.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Jolene said, shaking both older women’s hands. She tried to infuse all the charm she could possibly muster into the handshakes. She now felt invested in these women’s opinions of her.

  “We’re going to get lunch if you want to join us,” Aunt Liza said with the same gentle Tongan accent as Jason’s mother. And though she wanted to scream yes, she could already feel the protest that rose from Jason’s body.

  “I’m sure Jolene has better things to do on a Saturday afternoon, Elizabeth,” Jason’s mother said, still staring intently at Jolene.

  “Oh, you would think so,” Jolene said. Why did she make herself sound that pathetic? “What I mean is I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

  “I’m inviting you, so you wouldn’t be intruding,” Aunt Liza continued.

  “Auntie, she might not want to join us,” Jason said, looking more than a little uncomfortable.

  Did he think she wanted to worm her way into his life because he gave her two of the best orgasms she ever experienced?

  “Then let her say that.”

  Jolene gave an apologetic smile. “I can’t stay. I actually have a few more boring errands to run today.” She did in fact have things to do, but she couldn’t tell if Jason’s shoulders slumped in relief or in disappointment.

  Jason’s mom pursed her lips. “Then come for dinner next Friday evening.”

  Jolene’s felt her heart rate spike and palms dampen. Could she spend an entire evening having polite conversation with Jason’s family? Was there any need to complicate her emotions? What if he really didn’t want her there and he bemoaned his mother’s involvement?

  “Sure,” she said, not thinking about the possible responsibilities that might conflict with this new obligation.

  “Fantastic,” Aunt Liza said.

  “Great!” Jolene replied a little too enthusiastically.

  Jason’s mother hooked her arm through Aunt Liza’s. “Jason, give her my address.” The two women turned to leave. “We’ll see you at six, love,” Jason’s mom said over her shoulder.

  They disappeared into the busy market and left Jolene and Jason alone. He drew closer to her and just stood there. “You might want to write this down,” he said with a small smile.

  Jesus.

  She pulled out her phone, and he recited his mother’s address.

  “I don’t have to come if you don’t want me to,” Jolene said, putting her phone away.

  “Why wouldn’t I want you to?”

  “I’m not trying to encroach on your life.”

  “It’s dinner with my family, that’s it. You’re my best friend’s sister-in-law; it makes sense that we’d be at least friendly to one another.”

  More than friendly would be preferable. Memories flooded back of their time in the motel room.

  He interrupted her thoughts with a polite cough. “I should go find my mother and aunt before they decide that their next project will be harvesting live lobster. I’ll see you next Friday, then.”

  “It’s a date.”

  Crap, Jolene cursed inwardly.

  “Not a date, date. But like a—”

  “Yeah, I-I know what you meant.”

  “Good, because I don’t want you thinking you went down on a woman one time and here she is wanting a date.” Lights and the Kill Bill siren went off in her head telling her to stop talking.

  His eyes narrowed and a smile curved his lips. “You still think about it, don’t you?”

  “You arrogant bastard,” she said almost breathlessly.

  He shrugged. “I just know my skill level.”

  And as he walked farther and farther away from her, she felt a knot in her stomach form. She was in trouble.

  Chapter 13

  Jason had been on edge the entire week. That wasn’t a good thing when you dealt with teeth and drills and people who were often afraid of them. Tonight, Jolene would come over to his mother’s for dinner, and Jason couldn’t help but count down the minutes till work ended.

  He’d thrown himself back into his routine during the weeks prior to seeing Jolene again at the farmer’s market, and their accidental meeting had rattled him. It shouldn’t have, however, because in the back of his head he knew there was a possibility he’d see her out and about in the city, crossing the street downtown or out at dinner with friends.

  “Hey, doc, are you coming out with us?” one of the receptionists at the clinic asked.

  “No, I have plans already.”

  The receptionist didn’t look surprised. He thought his coworkers would stop inviting him out after several years of him refusing, but he suspected courtesy motivated them to continue to ask on the very unlikely chance he would agree. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the other dentists, hygienists, or the front staff he worked with. In fact, a lot of them were nice to talk to in the mornings before the first patients arrived, during conferences they attended, or their annual Christmas party he made sure to attend. But Jason found it taxing to spend several hours in a bar, racking his brain for topics to talk about.

  However, while he bid his coworkers to have a good weekend, he liked knowing he actually had plans that didn’t consist of going to the gym or straight home as he often did on Friday evenings.

  The moment he arrived at his mother’s home, she greeted him saying, “Jason, don’t just stand there; we have a guest arriving soon.” She handed him a bowl that held white yams, and he took it to the dining table without protest.

  He straightened the four placemats and utensils while he was there. Thankfully, his aunt hadn’t brought along his uncle and cousins. If his uncle got the chance, he would only talk about MMT, the Tonga national rugby league team, and it took a very specific set of skills to avoid that conversation. He didn’t want Jolene to feel overwhelmed meeting so much of his family at once.

  After his mom and aunt had met Jolene, they’d bombarded him with questions about her. It’s what happened when you were well into your thirties and an only child. However, he’d let them know immediately that Jolen
e would not be the one. His mom saw any woman with all her teeth as a potential match, but he didn’t indulge in his mother’s matchmaking. It would probably be nice to have a long-term partner, maybe a kid or two, but it wasn’t something he’d envisioned or thought out like he had with his other goals.

  The doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” he called out. He forced himself not to jog toward the sound, but he couldn’t help but walk briskly to the door. When he opened the door, Jolene stood there, like some kind of goddess of nature with bouquets of flowers in each hand.

  “Hi,” she said. Her voice sounded a little high-pitched and breathy.

  “Hi, welcome. Come in.”

  She shuffled inside and nervously scanned his childhood home from the limited vantage point in the entrance area. A few years after his father passed away, he and his mom were forced to move out, but Jason bought the house back for her once he had become some version of a success. Having Jolene in this space brought on heavy palpitations that Jason attempted to control with even breathing. But the mango-coconut scent had returned and tested his resolve to remain chill. He’d missed that smell.

  “I brought flowers for your aunt and mom.”

  “They’ll love them.”

  “I didn’t know what their favorites were, so I just got them mine.”

  “Oh, Jolene. Welcome.”

  His mother and aunt appeared in the entryway. As always, his aunt, the quiet observer who communicated mostly with her eyebrows and expressive eyes, smiled at Jolene.

  “Are these for us?” his mom asked, reaching out for the two bouquets and cooing over their color and scent. “Elizabeth, they’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

  “Very. I love gardenias. Thank you.”

  “Jason, put these in vases for us.” She passed the bundles to him and turned back to Jolene. “Also, this outfit—” She eyed the black jumpsuit Jolene had worn and gave her a thumbs-up.