Page 44 of Afternoon Delight
Chapter 25
Meg
A thirty-something woman showed up a short time later. She wore a plain blue T-shirt, baggy jeans, and wire-rimmed glasses. Her dark brown hair was in a choppy faux-hawk.
“Good morning,” I greeted. “Just browsing? Or can I help you find something?”
“A little of both. I’m Mahathi.” Her words held the vaguest hint of an Indian accent. “I texted Georgia yesterday to ask how she was doing. She said she was having her surgery today, and I could check with you on how it goes. Are you Meg?”
“I am. It’s nice to meet you. It’ll be hours before we hear anything, but I can take your number and text you?”
“Sure.” She gave me her number, which I immediately texted:
Hi from Meg.
I added her name to my contacts. “Georgia and I are friends from high school.”
“I met her at a perimenopause workshop last year. She told me she was opening this store, and I’ve been meaning to drop by ever since. Then it closed, but I saw there would be a relaunch and missed that, too. I’m a bit of a shit friend,” she said, in a tone of discovery.
“Not really. You’re here now.”
“I guess. I really have been meaning to come in to see what she has.” She picked up a box and studied the photo of the dildo with the face strap.
“Tell me more about the perimenopause thing,” I invited. “Calling it a workshop makes it sound like you learned how to make your own tampons.”
“I actually did learn to make biodegradable pads from moss once. It takes you the entire month to collect enough, though. The perimenopause one was about as useful. Chew ice chips for hot flashes? Bitch, how do I make them stop?”
“Oof. I was hoping you were going to say it was helpful. I’m coming up to forty and sometimes get night sweats.” My periods were all over the place. I was planning to see my doctor as soon as I got back to Toronto. “Georgia told me she was planning to offer workshops in the evenings here, to get people in the door. That would be a good one, wouldn’t it?”
“I’ve actually found a really good specialist.” Mahathi tested the flexibility on a displayed dildo. “I had a full hysterectomy two years ago and went into hard menopause overnight. The hot flashes were killing me. Now I’m on hormone replacement and starting to feel like I want to do this again.” She tapped the package of a bright blue double-ended dildo. “Let me share the contact for the clinic. I don’t know if they do presentations, but it’s worth asking.” She brought out her phone, and a contact appeared under my text to her.
“Thanks.”
There was a flicker of changing light at the window. I glanced up to see Zak. He waved, and I waved back. Mahathi noticed.
“That’s my neighbor.” I pointed toward Twice is Nice. “He comes over to chat when he’s bored, but he doesn’t intrude if I’m with a customer. Oh, I took that one home the other day,” I said, as Mahathi picked up the clit stimulator. “Not that one, obviously,” I joked. “I bought one of my own.” Actually, Zak had bought it, but, “I like it. I want to try this one next. It’s bendy.”
I showed her the palm-sized vibrator that could be cupped against the vulva while cycling through different speeds and patterns.
“Some of these have apps or you can pair them with your smartwatch,” I murmured, as I read the back of the box for all its features. “At first, I thought the apps were a gimmick, but now I see how convenient it can be. On the other hand, make up your mind and live with it, or you’ll have lube all over your phone.”
“I hate when that happens. I’ll probably get this one,” she said, handing me the bendy vibrator. “But I’ll browse a little longer.”
I set it on the cash desk. “We also have lube for post-menopausal vaginas. You can use this one for anal, too. This one’s organic.” I pointed them out.
Another customer came in, and I chimed out, “Good morning. Oh, hi,” I added, with more warmth, as I recognized one of the shop’s regulars.
I didn’t know her name, but she usually wore thigh-high boots and a raincoat—with, I was pretty sure, nothing underneath. She was always turned out with smoky eyes, red lips, and always made a bee-line to the kinkiest toys: whips, nipple clamps, ball gags.
Today, she wore slim-fit black trousers, a white blouse, suspenders, and a tie. Her black hair was tucked beneath a motorcycle cap.
“Are you Meg?” she asked.
“Yes?”
“Domino.” She stepped forward and gave my hand a firm shake. “I was speaking with Georgia the other day. She said you’d know how her surgery is going?”
“No word yet, but I’m taking numbers. I’ll send updates when I hear anything.”
