Page 89 of Afternoon Delight
“So conceited,” I accused, catching his self-congratulatory grin as we dried off.
“That was a thank-you for riding my face like a bar bull.”
“Anytime, sailor.” I slid my arms around his neck, and we kissed once more. But as we drew back, we got tangled in a stare full of all sorts of things—sensual memory, yes, but also the heavier things. The knowledge of how transitory this was. How brief a future we had.
He sighed, sounding so weary my heart broke for him. I’d been on a similar journey, the kind where you stepped off the train once in a while to stretch your legs and breathe some fresh air, but you always had to get back on and there was no sign of your destination. Not one that you really wanted to reach, anyway.
Dementia was a particularly long and grueling track. I had a friend in Toronto who’d gone through it with her mom. At least with my dad, he’d had bouts of better health, and until the final few days, he’d retained enough of his faculties to make decisions about his own care.
With Dale, Zak and Zara would have to make decisions for him, like when to take his car keys or when caring for him was more than they could manage at home.
We parted a few minutes later, but I texted Zak when I got home to say good night. In the morning, I texted again, asking if he wanted anything from Brim Stokers.
Nothing.
He didn’t come into the store at the usual time, either.
I did get a text from Georgia saying that Gail was coming to pick up a few things from Tap That. Apparently, one of the yacht owners had a special request.
Georgia:
Can you pull the stock for the online orders? I’ll send them while we’re out.
I sent Georgia a thumbs-up, then texted Zak again.
Everything okay?
Crickets.
I didn’t feel ghosted so much as worried. He finally popped his head in around lunchtime.
“I couldn’t find my phone,” he said. “Dad put it in the dishwasher. I didn’t notice until I was putting the clean dishes away. That was after I spent all morning looking for it. Then I had to run to the mall to get a new one.”
“Good times.”
“So fun. Now he’s mad because I was mad. I have to get back.” He nodded toward the antique shop.
“Text me later, once you’ve got the new phone set up. Is it a new number?”
“Nope. Text me something filthy. Cheer me up.”
I was positioning sex toys in comical poses and sending him snapshots when Georgia walked in. I had forgotten she was coming and felt as though she’d caught me disrespecting her merchandise, seeing as I’d pulled the plush bunny from the front window and tangled him upside down in the swing ropes. He wore a bright purple strap-on around his middle.
“Um...” I scratched my upper lip and told her why Zak needed a pick-me-up. “You look great,” I added.
“Thanks.”
She really did. She was moving around without holding onto anything. Her sandals, flowing skirt, and low-necked top were breezy and bright. Her hair was growing out into a thicker cap of tight curls. She wasn’t wearing a lot of makeup, but she’d put on some lashes and a mauve lipstick.
“This came up well.” She ran her hand over the lid of the credenza Zak had polished. From inside it, Peaches and Herb were murmuring about being Reunited.
A pang of loss hit me.
This was what I’d wanted—for Georgia to walk back into her store and absently straighten a book on the rack and take in Mom’s latest table display with a cocked eyebrow. The theme was Tiptoe Through the Tulips. There was a vase of silk tulips in yellow and pink, but the rest was an array of flavored, lip-shaped cock rings, lip-shaped ball gags, and an oral-simulating masturbation sleeve. She’d left a couple of tubes of lipstick open amid flavored lube and condoms. There was even a double-headed dildo with a small sign tented over it that read:
When your lips meet mine...
“Vickie did this?” Georgia gave me a side-eye of skepticism.
