Page 21 of Dirty Little Secret, Baby
"Look at this," I say, exasperated, and hold the message out to Veronica.
"Told you: men are into you." Veronica feels vindicated and grins broadly. "All right, it was just a joke," she adds soothingly when she sees the furrow in my brow. "He’s an ass. Just ignore him and laugh it off. After the way he treated you, Chris doesn’t deserve anything more."
I know Veronica’s right. She usually is about things like this. But all of this is kind of new to me, and I don’t understand how an ex who simply cheated on me can text me after more than a year and a half and be so blunt about sex.
"Can I add something?" Veronica asks cautiously.
"Of course. You, my therapist, friend, and life organizer, always can," I say, and this time I’m the one who earns a slap on the thigh.
"Ha-ha," Veronica retorts, clears her throat, and turns serious again. "I’m just thinking out loud; I don’t want to push you either way," she says, pausing again. "But think about it: One guy just bluntly asks for sex, the other wants to invite you to dinner and explain something."
"What’s your point?" I ask.
"I don’t have a point." Veronica lifts her hands disarmingly. "I’m just saying the father of your child seems to..."
"Sperm donor," I correct her, and I feel that heat flare in my gut again. And yet I wonder if she might be right. Should I have heard him out?
I can practically feel my curly hair standing on end, which is ridiculous, but the thought gets to me. Still, I can’t undo it now. What kind of mother am I, anyway? Should I tell my son in ten years that his father might have wanted to apologize, but I told him to go to hell? Oh God, does that make me just as bad as he is?
WHIRRRR WHIRRRR WHIRRRRRR
I look around and see Petey going at his wheel again at an unusual hour for a hamster, and for the first time in a long time I’m grateful for it, because it takes my mind off things for a moment.
I should get this Alex Rodgers out of my head once and for all...
BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ
This time it’s my smartphone vibrating with an incoming call. I sigh, assuming for a second that Chris has moved on to calling me directly. But the display shows the number of the store below me.
"Paula? Everything okay?" I ask, worried, and at the same time I know it’s not, because she has instructions to call only if it’s urgent, since she knows I’m taking care of Ben when I’m not at the store.
"Sorry, Beth. I’m only calling because I know Veronica’s with you too. And there’s this man in a suit. He won’t be put off and keeps saying he wants to talk to you and..."
There it is again: that heat in my gut. Is Alex really brazen enough to come back and insist on another conversation? Wasn’t I clear enough? At the same time I feel something else, and a part of me is flattered that he’s this persistent. But I try not to let that other feeling in, because last time it led me nowhere.
"I’m coming," I say, and we hang up. "Can you hold Ben for a few minutes, Vero? He’s sleeping soundly, I think."
"Yeah, but..." she says, not quite getting what’s going on as I carefully hand Ben to her.
"He’s back. Alex. In the store. I’m going down," I say, and my heart is pounding wildly in my chest.
"Beth, you’re..."
"I know, I know. I heard everything you said. Be right back," I say.
"That’s not what I mean, you..."
"I’ve got this. Thanks for watching him," I say again, kissing both of them on the forehead. Then I hurry out the door and down the stairs to the store.
"Beth, look in the mirror," I hear her call. I ignore the comment, assuming she wants to remind me again that men think I’m pretty.Clothesis the last scrap I catch as I reach the bottom of the stairs.
"Where is he?" I ask Paula, who stares at me, a little aghast, looking me up and down.
At first I don’t get it, and then it hits me. I’m standing here in sweatpants and a faded floral top, with my nipples visible through it. My sleepwear—the stuff no one else ever sees. Is that what Veronica was trying to say when I cut her off?
"There," she says, extending her hand, and I turn around as my cheeks burn and I wish I’d listened to Veronica—her words suddenly make sense.
The guy in the suit is looking around, sniffing a few roses. He takes one from the bucket and turns toward me.
