Page 99 of Confessions of a Virgin on a Dating App
My eyebrows shot up. Allen was my youngest brother, born when I was eleven years old.
“I don’t remember you recovering from that.”
My mother chuckled. “Admittedly I kept it hidden from you kids. And there’s only so much recovering you can do with a newborn and two other children, plus a whole house to keep up with.”
I opened my mouth, ready to reply with shock and confusion, when my mother turned away and closed the door.
With her gone, I slouched down in bed, the pain from my stitches further fueling the flames of my frustration.
Why is being a woman so difficult?
I spent the rest of the morning alternating between sleeping and gaming, and I was so exhausted and dizzy from the pain that my video games started showing up in my dreams. It made it difficult to tell where fantasy ended and reality began, and I didn’t finally start to feel like myself until well into the afternoon.
By that time, my father had arrived from the hotel, and he and my mother were conversing in the kitchen when I woke up. I ran a hand over my stitches and realized that the pain was gone. I assumed that the medication was finally working without the loopy side effects. But just as I went to step out of bed, my mother crept in through the door carrying a ceramic plate.
“Oh, good, you’re awake.” she smiled, setting the plate on my end table. “I rolled some dolmades and made a whole tray of spanakopita while you were asleep. I just heated this piece up.
“Wow, Mom, thank you,” I exclaimed in surprise. “Where did you even get the ingredients to make them?”
“There’s an international grocery store about fifteen minutes away, although your local chain had everythingexcept the grape leaves. Eat up, sweetheart. You need fuel to recover.”
I smiled. The flaky spinach pie smelled delicious, and I could see the freshly microwaved steam wafting off the top.
“Mom. I’m not completely bed bound. I can eat in the kitchen.”
“Okay, sweetie. Just be careful.”
I stepped out into the kitchen and took a seat at the dining table, avoiding my father’s gaze as I stabbed at my lunch with a fork.
“I also have all the ingredients to make some salad and moussaka when your boyfriend arrives,” my mother announced, which made my shoulders twitch a fraction. “What time is he coming over, by the way?”
“Not until five,” I replied.
“So, heiscoming?” my father chimed in, although his tone was flat as always.
I nodded, although my gaze quickly returned to my spanakopita. I didn’t like locking eyes with him any longer than necessary.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw my mother shoot him a “be nice” look as she rifled through the fridge.
After I finished my lunch, I loaded my plate in the dishwasher and slunk back into my bedroom. I let out a long, deep yawn as I crawled into bed, one so big it made my jaw ache. My usual routine involved bouncing between work and the game shop, so I was always busy with something. Sleeping this much made me feel lazy and gross.
But I knew I needed rest, and I was asleep again within twenty minutes.
When I opened my eyes again, I was unaware of how much time had passed. But when I realized that the light in my room was growing dimmer, I shot out of bed and grabbed my phone off the end table.
Isighed as I rubbed my aching abdomen. It was 4:20 pm., which meant I had a little over half an hour to make my sluggish, stitched-up self presentable for my boyfriend.
My eyes flicked toward the bathroom.That needs to start with a shower.
Thirty minutes later, I was clean and refreshed, with fluffy blow-dried hair and a loose, plain t-shirt dress that wouldn’t irritate my abdominal stitches. I forced a smile across my face in my bathroom mirror. I looked considerably more presentable, but my face was still puffy and pale.
I was poking at the dark circles under my eyes when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” I exclaimed, scurrying out of my bedroom and into the hallway. I didn’t want Devin to be greeted by my overexcitable mother and judgmental father.
He smiled as soon as I opened the door. He looked different, but before I could take a good look at him, he craned his neck around me, peering through the front door.
I then realized he was making sure my parents couldn’t see us, because he immediately grabbed my waist and pulled me in for a kiss.
