Page 38 of Man Cuffed
My mother makes a noise of agreement. It’s a sound like “murm” that she often makes when she knows I don’t really want to hear her opinion but she can’t keep her mouth completely sealed shut.
“Listen to this,” I add. “I have another gig right now. I met a woman at my fake boyfriend’s sister’s bridal shower, and she hired me to do a flash mob.”
Mom blinks. “Your fake boyfriend? Is this like your pretend friend Cheetah?”
“Oh!” Sadie giggles. “I forgot about Cheetah. You told us she had spotted hair.”
“Comeon!” I shriek. “I wasfiveyears old. Can we stop with the childhood memories? Or I’m going to tell Sadie’s husband about the time she cut her own hair with Dad’s weed whacker.”
“Slow your roll, honey,” Sadie says. “Let’s get back to the fake boyfriend.”
“How does that work, exactly?” Mom asks.
“He’s a realperson, he’s just not really my boyfriend. It’s a shame, though. You’d think so too if you could see his ass. And his face. They’re both nice.”
My father snorts. “But what about the flash mob? That sounds dangerous.”
“No way, Dad!” Leave it to him to think a flash mob actually includes incendiary devices. “It’s not dangerous,” I say. “Unless you’re worried about humiliating yourself. Which I’m not. It’s singing and dancing in a crowd. It’s about as dangerous as a bridal shower, but so much more exciting.”
“It sounds stressful,” my mother worries.
“That’s the point! I’ve always loved how risky live theater is. A flash mob is like live theater on steroids. You have no idea whether it will work. But I’m not stressed. I’malive. It’s halfSound of Music, halfMission Impossible. I’m loving it so much.”
“Hmmm,” Sadie says, all therapist-like.
She doesn’t understand, because she never understood why I wanted to be in theater. “What does that hmmm mean?”
Sadie unlatches Alfred. “Why do you think a flash mob is more exciting than a screen test for a part in a new television drama?”
Normally, I’d be a little annoyed that she’s analyzing me. But it’s a damn good question. Lately, the only things I’ve really been truly excited about are Hot Cop frisking me while we’re in the shower (my fantasy), and when I’ve been planning this event. “Because it’s not about me beingchosen. Or getting ahead. It’s creating something raw and impressive. I have one try to make this bride’s day, and then the whole production fades away like Brigadoon. It’s challenging.”
“Well, there you have it.”
“What?”
“You’ve always loved a challenge.”
Huh. She’s right. Before I can respond, Liam slips into view. He stands behind her, wraps his arms around her, and then kisses her neck. “Hey, Matthews clan,” he says to us.
“Hey, professor,” I say. He’s not a professor, but he’s wearing his glasses and I like to give him shit.
“How’s our boy?” my mother asks. She loves Liam to pieces. And conversation shifts to his job and Sadie’s twins.
And just like that, I’m out of the hot seat.
Until I glance at the clock. “Sorry, guys,” I say, breaking into a conversation about building up little immune systems with sandbox play. “I gotta go. I’m off to make a marriage proposal happen.”
“Proposal?” Liam asks. “Who…”
“I’ll explain later,” Sadie says.
We all blow kisses and I disconnect.
I really am excited about this. What I’ve got lined up is sort of epic. If I can pull it off…
I don’t know exactly.
But if I can pull this off, I feel like something big could happen. Something big inside of me.
