Page 98 of Afternoon Delight
So, even though I had a lot of mixed feelings about Joel, I loved him in the way you love a place that you know is gone. He was that copse of trees at the end of the street that’s now a shopping mall, or my grandmother’s attic after the house was torn down. The special thing we had no longer existed. I accepted that. I was okay with only having the memory of it.
But I didn’t have enough memories with Zak to sustain me. I didn’t want the safari, either. I wanted to roll over in the dark and feel him beside me. I wanted to wash the car while he mowed the lawn, then drink beer and debate ale versus pilsner. I wanted to feel his arms come around me while I washed the dishes, and have him rub my feet while we watched TV.
I wanted him.
So I made do by texting Georgia, asking her to bag up one of the remote-controlled masturbation sleeves with some lube and walk it over to him.
Fifteen minutes later, she texted.
I said that’s from Meg. He said, For Dad?
He’s such a weirdo.
I know. Isn’t he great?
We texted a little more about how she was feeling—Great!—and how the store’s sales were picking up thanks to some videos she was posting. Then she sent me a photo of Mom wrapping ribbons around a double-headed dildo to make it look like a Maypole.
Zak had called it; Mom was a genius.
I stopped at a local store on my way home, picking up a new vibrator that worked with the same app as the masturbation sleeve. While waiting for Zak, I figured out how to connect it and texted him which app to load on his phone.
Time zones were another piece of the long-distance relationship puzzle that people didn’t always talk about. By the time Zak was home and had Dale tucked in for the night, I was usually asleep.
I was eating take-out Thai food I’d picked up on the way home, still browsing the instructions and figuring out how the chat function worked, when Roddie walked in.
I leapt to my feet and swept my arm across the table, brushing the vibrator and its packaging onto a chair, but he caught me and knew what it was.
His brows came together. “Are you still working for Georgia?”
“This was something I was texting with her about, yeah.” It wasn’t a complete lie. I finished tucking it out of sight. “What are you doing home? I thought you were staying at your dad’s tonight?”
“I forgot my good shirt for band. Dress rehearsal is tomorrow. Can you drive me in the morning?”
“Sure.”
“Is there any more of that?” He pointed at my plate.
“In the fridge. Help yourself.” I picked up my phone and texted Zak.
Roddie’s home. Rain check?
A few minutes later, Zak sent a photo of the blue rooster with a stack of wooden children’s blocks beside it. Cock-blocks. He added a snorting-face emoji puffing out clouds of outrage.
I chuckled and replied with a GIF of a girl with her mascara running.
I’m sorry.
“Who’s that?” Roddie asked as he put his filled plate into the microwave.
“Zak.” My tone said, Do you need to ask? I set my phone aside.
“Oh, Mom.” His voice dropped several octaves. “Did you guys have a date?” His appalled gaze slid to the end of the table where I’d hidden all the evidence.
“What?” I wanted to die. I wanted to lie. But I also wanted to be an adult about it. Model healthy sexuality, right? But also: Noooo.
“I’m really sorry. I’ll go to my room.” He looked that way, clearly calculating the fastest escape route, then glanced at the still-humming microwave. “Actually, I’ll grab my shirt and catch the train back to Dad’s.”
“No, Roddie. It’s fine. Zak has plans anyway.”
