Page 90 of You Spin Me

“But we’ve been talking since the beginning of the year. So, like, almost two months.”

“Are you sure? They won’t freak out?”

“Why would they?”

He suddenly sits up and takes my hand. “Thank you.”

I meet his eyes, even though I feel like a fraud for not sharing all of my ugly bits, the way he does with me. Sidestepping the real issues, I shrug. “I mean, they won’t love that you’re not Jewish, but I think we can get around that.”

“How?”

“Well, technically, if we were to have kids, they’d still be Jewish. And that’s what really matters to them.”

“Us having kids?”

Now I’m blushing. “I’m not—I’m not saying we should have kids or anything, I don’t even?—”

“Stop, Jess. I’m giving you a hard time. Two months or two weeks, it’s too early for that kind of conversation.” He pulls me onto his lap. “I mean, come on, though, our kids would be gorgeous.”

Shifting to straddle him, I nuzzle his ear. “Someone’s ego’s about to get too big for his britches.”

“That doesn’t even make sense.”

Giggling and grinding into his lap, I whisper a quote from one of my favorite sonnets, “‘Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds.’”

Hands on my butt, he pulls me even closer. “I’ll show you some alterations.”

After kissing him behind his right ear—not his left, that’s a taboo area—I whisper, “‘Men have died from time to time and worms have eaten them, but not for love.’”

Apparently taking that as a challenge, he flips me over and tries to kill me with orgasms. Some time later, when we’re panting next to each other, he says, “It might help if you prepare them.”

My brain’s truly scrambled, so it takes me a minute to realize that he’s talking about my family. “Prepare them?”

“About my scars.”

“Oh, okay. What should I say?”

“I think it’s best to keep it simple. Something like, ‘He was in a fire as a child, he has visible scars, but he’s fine.’ At least on the outside. Well, don’t say that last part.”

Rolling to face him, I press my hand into his chest over his heart. “I think we’re pretty equally fucked up on the inside, Cal.”

“I don’t know. I might give you a run for your money on that.”

Not a debate I’m ready to have. So I deflect. “Well, either way, I’ll definitely come over Sunday night after my show. But now, I should get going.”

Kissing my hand, he promises, “I’ll see you Sunday. In Bedford.”

CAL

Late Sunday morning, I wait in my car until I see Jessica’s car pull up in front of the Bedford address she gave me. After I give her a greedy kiss, she takes both of my hands in hers. “I apologize now if the family gets super nosy.” She makes a face. “I haven’t exactly brought a guy home recently. Like, maybe since junior high.”

This I was not expecting. “What am I supposed to tell them? About us?”

“Whatever you want.” She shrugs as she turns to head up the front walk.

My gloved hand slips out of hers when I don’t move. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”

“Cal, it’s simple.” Returning to capture my hand again, she walks backward, pulling me along as she continues. “You’re important to me, and they’re important to me. And I think when you meet people’s families, you get to see another side of them.”

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