Page 6 of A Perfect Match
Yeah, coming down with dickstalgia.
Nostalgia for that man’s dick.
“I hope you’re not getting sick!I saw your calendar back there—you’ve got a busy week of bulk orders."
"That I do."I draw a deep breath, some of the anxiety about the workload replacing my anxiety about the new neighbor.
“Do you want me to come in a few extra hours this weekend?”
“I think I’ll be able to manage it,” I tell her, though deep inside, I’m not sure I can.Still, I’m eager to prove to myself that I can be Superwoman.“I’ll let you know if that changes.”
Jerrica is going to close tonight so that I can escape a couple hours early.She’s the closer on Wednesdays specifically so that I can attend my weekly family dinner.My mom, older brothers, and I have this family tradition where we get together on hump day as a mid-week check-in to eat together, play together, and laugh together.Instead ofLive, Laugh, Loveour family motto isEat, Laugh, Play Euchre.My older brothers are absolute assholes when it comes to euchre, but it awakens the euchre asshole in me as well, so I’m powerless to resist.
This week, I’m gunning for first place.Brothers be damned.
“You better get going,” Jerrica prompts.I check the wall clock—four p.m.She’s right.She’ll be closing up at six, when I’ll be five cards deep into taking the throne in this week’s euchre tourney.
“Thanks for your help, Jerrica.”I untie my apron, my gaze sliding back toward the front windows, where I can just barely see one of the guys in the camera crew.“Let me know if anything crops up during closing.And those other marshmallows trays back there you can stick in the freezer.And all of the leftover brownies—”
“I know, plastic wrap and fridge.”She’s shooing me toward the back door.Separating me from my business is akin to separating a mother from her newborn—at least, I imagine it would be.I don’t trust anyone to look after it or intuit its needs as well as I do.And it definitely needs milk every few hours.
I barely get out abyebefore she pushes me out the back door with a quick, “Now go enjoy your time off!”I’m left waving at the closed steel door.For a moment I look around awkwardly.It always hurts to detach from my baby.But my mom will be mad if I don’t make time for the family once a week, and I’m not trying to piss off my mom.
I run upstairs to my apartment, cooinghelloto all my beautiful potted plants, fixing the throw blanket on the corner of the sofa, picking up my backpack for the bike ride to my mom’s.I change out of my work leggings and into my leisure leggings.I’m a woman who likes leggings, dammit.After tossing on a nice slouchy sweater, I pop on my backpack and thump back down the exterior staircase.The early evening air is crisp.It’s still warm enough to bike across town without a jacket, but I can feel the promise of true autumn in the air.I love it.
I unlock my bike from the bottom spire of the staircase railing and hop on.It’s a quick ride to my mom’s house across town, but I like to take the long way.I’m just one block from Briggs Bay and the boardwalk that traverses the width of the shoreline, and I need the scenic distraction today.I take in big gulps of freshwater air, listening to the caws of seagulls and the excited shouts of small children walking with their parents as I zoom down the path.Briggs Bay sparkles in the early-evening sunlight, and further out I can see where it opens up to Lake Erie.On the horizon, Kelley’s Island glitters.
I smile into the warm sunlight, trying to quiet a small voice at the back of my head that keeps getting louder these days.
Everything feels perfectly fine…as long as I ignore the nagging sensation that I’m keeping myself in a box so that I don’t rock the family boat.
I force those thoughts out of my head.I don’t like entertaining anything less than wild satisfaction.Everything is great, dammit.I shouldn’t want more than this.I have an amazing life.I’m a business owner at twenty-eight.I have a good relationship with all of my siblings.I love my mom.Having lost my father at a young age, I know the preciousness of life.I need to gulp it all down, take it all in, savor every second.
The nagging feeling like I’m missing something?Like somehow a romantic relationship might be a wise addition to my life?Like maybe I should take some risks and see if I can chew more than I’ve already bitten off?I don’t have time for that.
I’m dating my marshmallow shop and men are perfectly good as siblings or friends, the end.
I zoom into the tree-shaded neighborhood where my brothers and I grew up.The leaves are just beginning to turn yellow and orange at the tips, but plenty of trees are still hanging on to summer green.In a few weeks this whole street will be ablaze with autumnal glory, and I cannot wait.By the time I pedal up to the garage door of my mom’s house, I’m barely breaking a sweat.I pop the kickstand and leave my bike in front of my brother Jett’s car.I can tell by the cars that everyone is here already, and I can already anticipate howloudit is inside.
The front door showcases Mom’s new fall wreath—an excessive amount of fake leaves and a big burlap bow—and I push inside, the familiar scents of home washing over me, warm wood mixed with the lingering aroma of her lavender diffuser.The clamor of voices pulls me deeper into the house.Once I hit the dining room, it’s Keegan time.
Everyone is here, and everyone turns to look at me all at once.I get varying levels of interest from my brothers, who are mostly focusing on some sporting event on the TV in the adjoining living room.My mom is the only one who lights up like she hasn’t seen me in years.
“Hey, Pipe Cleaner,” Asher says in his trademark grumble.He almost exclusively refers to me by my nickname.As the eldest, he stepped into that dad role once our father passed, so he treats me slightly more like a father would than the other male heathens I call my family.
“Hey, Asher.Hello, Griffin.Hello, Dane.Hello,Jett.”I drift around the table to give my mom a hug while my brothers jerk their chins in response.“Where’s Lia?”
“Napping,” Dane says without even looking at me.Lia is his three-year-old daughter.She’s the one who makes this family complete, and I’m always ready for some niece snuggles.
“Fine, I’ll impatiently wait for my favorite person to wake up.”I sigh dramatically, sinking into the open chair beside Mom.It’s my preferred space, but sometimes my brothers and I still fight for the honor of sitting next to mom.Thankfully, they’re distracted enough by whatever is on the TV right now to not hassle me about it.
“You hungry?”Mom asks, squeezing my knee.Her dark blonde hair is pulled back into a low bun.She smiles warmly at me, and I spot signs of flour on her shirt.She runs the Bayshore Bakery downtown, one of the longest-running businesses in the area.She took it over from the former owner and has been keeping the tradition alive for the past twenty years.
“Sure am.What’s on the menu for tonight?”
Suddenly, all of my brothers inhale sharply, eyes on the TV.Dane mutters under his breath and pounds the dining room table with his fist.
“Fucking Roberts did it again,” Jett says.
