Sugar Baby

by Robin Roseau

“Do you want me to make dinner?”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “You don’t care for my cooking?”

  “Astrid, you’re not my servant.”

  “I’m your girlfriend, though, aren’t I?”

  “Yes. You’re my girlfriend.”

  “Well, your girlfriend is offering to cook, if you think you could enjoy something she makes. She’s still not a very good cook.”

  “Keep it simple, but use…” She broke off, and then she did something that would have gotten me into trouble if I did it. She swore. “I have something for you, and I’m going to be late.” She dashed into her office and came back with a credit card. She handed it to me. It had my name on it. I stared at it. “This is for very specific things, Astrid, and I will be upset if you use it on other things.”

  “I won’t.”

  “Gas for the scooter.”

  “So that will be ten bucks between now and August.”

  She laughed. “More than that, but not that much. Gas for the scooter and groceries. No five-dollar coffees. No treating your friends. Gas and groceries.”

  “Gas and groceries,” I echoed.

  “I’m not being a bitch about the money,” she said. “I wanted a longer conversation. I’m trying to help you be frugal.”

  I smiled. “I understand, Cassidy.”

  “I’m not sure you do, but we’ll talk some more tonight. I’m giving this to you now because you offered to cook, and the cupboards are bare. Yes, I’d love dinner. I want you to use fresh ingredients, but plan something simple you can do well. I prefer simple meals done well than complicated done poorly. Note that I didn’t tell you to do it cheaply. Do it well, and we’ll talk about it after.”

  “All right,” I said.

  She gestured to the card. “Groceries for your place, too. And go someplace decent. There’s a Lund’s. It’s not as convenient for you on the scooter, but the quality is good.”

  “I know where it is,” I said. “I can get there safely.”

  “Don’t overbuy. We can go for a larger trip this weekend if you need.”

  “I’m small; I don’t eat much,” I said.

  “I have to go,” she said.

  “Scorching kiss first,” I said demandingly. She didn’t have a problem with that.

  * * * *

  I stared at the scooter for a while. She’d given me lessons and had made me read the book, plus lectured me about safety. I knew as much as I could without experience. I was again struck by how well Cassidy was taking care of me.

  I was an adult; I shouldn’t need taking care of. But the reality was simple: I did. Oh, I could have dropped out of school and gotten a minimum wage job somewhere. I’d have made it through life. But I wouldn’t be on as good a path.

  And I wouldn't have Cassidy.

  I had two remotes, one for Cassidy’s garage, and one for the underground parking at the apartment. I wheeled the scooter from the garage, put on the helmet, and then closed the garage door. I climbed on and then gave a whoop of joy as I set out.

  I actually ended up making two trips to the grocery store. For the first, I bought basics for the apartment, dominated by toilet paper. TP isn’t heavy, but it’s bulky, and I hadn’t really thought too much about that in the past. But I had to get it all to the apartment while on the scooter. And so I bought very, very cautiously. Even then, stuff didn’t fit easily, but Cassidy had forbidden me from what she called, “Clever packing,” also known as draping a shopping bag off the handlebars. So I used the basket and my backpack.

  And then I drove to my apartment.

  I put everything away then stood in the center and turned a circle. For the summer, this was my place. And there was something magical about that.

  Then I put on my swim suit and hung out by the pool for a few hours.

  * * * *

  I hit the grocery store again on the way back to Cassidy’s, making sure I left with ample time to buy groceries and reach her place no later than four. I took her at her word. I bought fresh, high quality ingredients, but I kept it simple at the same time. I saw to everything, and then I went upstairs and primped.

  I had my own closet, and I stared at my choices. I considered dressing sexy for her, but ultimately I decided that wasn’t what she wanted. Or was tacky. Or something. If she wanted me to greet her wearing my birthday suit, she could say something.

  I dressed like it was for a date and was back downstairs with ample time when I heard the garage door.

  I was a little nervous. This was the first time I’d been waiting for her when she got home from work. It felt a little weird, but at the same time, I was really excited.

  I heard the garage service door open. Then footsteps. Then she appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. She stopped, and we stared at each other. Finally, I broke the silence. “Welcome home, Darling.”

  She smiled broadly, quite broadly, then stepped towards me, setting her purse and laptop case on the kitchen island before reaching me. She pulled me into a hug then a deep, deep kiss.

  We clung together for a minute, but then separated. She was still grinning.

  “So,” I said, making a small gesture. “You don’t mind that I’m here when you get home.”

  “No,” she said with a little laugh. “No, I don’t mind.”

  “Good. I’m actually nervous about it, but I like it, too.”

  “You’ll make a good June Cleaver,” she replied.

  “Yeah, because Ward was secretly a woman,” I retorted with a grin. “I cooked.”

  “It smells very good.” She looked me up and down. “And you look really good.”

  “This old thing?” I asked. We both gave a little laugh. She’d bought it for me a month or so ago.

  “One of my better investments,” she declared. “Astrid, I hardly got any work done today. I kept thinking about coming home and finding you here.”

  “I should apologize to your boss?”

  “Most certainly not,” she countered.

  We stared at each other for a minute, then I took her hands. “All right. I need to know what you need right now.”

  “You.”

  “That’s sweet,” I said. “You just came home from work. You drove in rush hour. Are you stressed? Do you need downtime? What?”

  She said nothing for a minute then asked, “What is the schedule on dinner.”

  “You said six,” I said. “So I aimed for 6:15, but I can stretch it for a little while if we have to. We’ll eat when you’re ready.”

  “You’re a fabulous June,” she said with a grin.

  “So what do you need?” I asked. “Change clothes? Massage? What?”

  “Astrid, you’re not my servant.”

  “Your girlfriend can make guesses,” I said. “Or your girlfriend’s girlfriend could admit what she wants. We’re not playing guessing games, Cassidy. That’s not our relationship.”

  “No,” she said. “It most certainly is not. I want to change clothes. I want you to watch, but if we do that, your dinner is going to get burnt, because I’m not getting naked if you’re not.” I laughed. “So I’m going to go change. You’re going to stay here. When I get back, I’d like to cuddle on the sofa for a few minutes, but you need to set a timer and you need to be firm when it goes off.”

  “Then I will,” I said.

  * * * *

  “Astrid,” she said. “This is lovely.”

  “It’s simple,” I said.

  “It’s well-prepared, which is what I told you was more important. How did you spend your day?”

  I told her about the trips to the grocery store and then said, “I talked to Maggie. She’s agreed to your request, and said to thank you.”

  “Good.”

  We talked easily. Then we cleaned up together before Cassidy took my hand and led me back to the sofa. We cuddled for a while, and then she began touching me. “I have something new I want to do to you tonight.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

&nbs
p; * * * *

  I opened my eyes. Cassidy was already awake. We stared at each other for a while. “We have to talk about something.”

  “Oh, oh,” she said.

  “You have a life outside me.”

  “Astrid.”

  “If I stay here every night except the nights you are doing something with someone else, then I’m going to be home, fretting that I’m not with you.”

  “Astrid,” she said again, but she didn’t continue.

  “I’m not putting any pressure on you, Cassidy. I wouldn’t do that. But this is going to be easier for me if we do it a little differently.”

  “Are you saying you don’t intend to stay overnight?”

  “Absolutely not!” I said firmly. “But I think it shouldn’t be every single night. I’d rather stay here with you, but you didn’t argue with me about the apartment.”

  “You’re right,” she said. She sighed and caressed my cheek. “When I wake up in the middle of the night, and I feel you’re beside me, I really like that.”

  “I like that, too,” I said. “But unless you’re willing to introduce me to the other people in your life, I’d rather not sit at home, knowing you’re with people you won’t introduce me to.”

  “That’s fair,” she replied. “So what do you propose?”

  “I don’t know. I thought a two-night maximum, but we can shift a little if you have plans, as long as you’re subtle about it.”

  “Three nights.”

  “Three together and two apart?” I asked.

  “Three and one.”

  I knew with her suggestion, I would be convinced she was out with friends on our off night, especially because it was offering her such a small window, with scheduling problems besides. But she was the one paying the bills, and ultimately we would do things her way. “Whatever you think is best,” I said.

  “Why are we talking about this now?” she asked.

  “Because it’s Friday, and I spent the last two nights here. I wanted to know if I should be here tonight.”

  “Oh.” Her face fell. I reached out and found her hands.

  “I want to be clear. I don’t have any plans. I have no intention of making any, although if we figure out a schedule, I might make plans now and then with Maggie. But we’re spending tomorrow morning with her.”

  “I don’t want to do it this way, Astrid,” she said. “But I don’t want to hurt you, either.” I could see the pain in her eyes.

  “Cassidy,” I said gently. “I can be here tonight.”

  “Sunday afternoon and Wednesdays,” she said. “And I will tell you this. You would hate my sister, and she would hate you. She hates everyone. She has been a bitch to everyone I’ve ever introduced to her, and I stopped years ago. So there might be rare, very rare times that there’s a family event outside that schedule. Frankly, I’ll probably just work late on Wednesdays.”

  “We’ll have breakfast Sunday mornings,” I said. “And then I’m gone by 10:30. Or do I need to leave before breakfast?”

  “No.”

  I nodded. “All right.”

  “So,” she said hesitantly. “You’ll be here when I get home. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “And you’re staying tomorrow night.”

  “Right.”

  She smiled broadly. “Good. That’s good then. That’s good.”

  * * * *

  Cassidy didn’t let me wear jeans. Instead, it was a casual blouse and skirt. “You know the rules, Astrid.” I didn’t argue with her.

  We picked Maggie up. She was waiting outside for us, looking nervous and excited. But she had the car door opened and was climbing inside before we could have gotten out. We offered greetings, but then Cassidy was quiet for a minute.

  “Thank you for this,” Maggie said though. “I’d have introduced you to my mom, but she’s working today.”

  Cassidy’s furrowed brow became unfurrowed. Ah. She hadn’t liked being on the receiving end of a dirty secret. Well. I decided not to dwell on that. “Delano.”

  “Delano,” Maggie said. “I’m sorry it’s so far.”

  “Nonsense. You don’t keep horses in the city,” Cassidy said. “What is your horse’s name, Maggie?”

  “She’s not mine anymore.”

  “Right. I’m sorry.”

  There was an awkward silence, but then Maggie said, “Florence’s Dream Girl Blue. We called her Dream.”

  “That’s a lovely name,” I said. “Does she know her name?”

  “Good question,” Maggie said. “If you ask horse people, you’ll get different answers. Some say yes. Some say no. Some say they recognize their owners. Some don’t even say that. Dream knew me, or maybe she just knew I always had treats for her. But she’d come to me before she’d come to anyone else. I wonder if she even remembers me.”

  “Do you have treats?”

  “Two pockets full,” she said with a grin.

  “Sugar cubes?”

  “She likes those, but no. She’s not my horse anymore, so I can’t give her sugar. But no one is going to complain if I give her all the carrots she wants.” She pulled one out and waved it at me.

  * * * *

  We talked about horses for the entire ride. I had no idea about any of the things Maggie said, but it was fascinating. And she came alive as she talked about everything she knew. It was nice to watch.

  We reached horse country west of town, finally pulling into a rolling farm with a lovely, white fence surrounding the property.

  “Drive slowly,” Maggie directed. “Don’t raise dust.”

  “Right,” Cassidy said.

  There was visitor parking, and we weren’t the first to park. We paused a moment then climbed from the car. Maggie was biting her lip, so I stepped to her. “This looks like a nice place.”

  “Yeah,” she said. She looked around. “This is bigger than where we kept her.”

  “That’s good, right?”

  “It depends. If they’re too busy, then she’s just another horse, you know.”

  “But there are other horses,” I said. “And more space.”

  “Yeah.” But she bit her lip. So I took her arm and got her moving.

  We found the office. I let Maggie go, and she stepped up to the window. “I’m Maggie Graves.” She glanced at a paper. “Florence’s Dream Girl Blue used to be mine. I’m meeting her owners.”

  “Oh, sure,” said the woman. “Dream is a lovely horse, and Gemma absolutely loves her.”

  “That’s her new girl?” I asked.

  “Yes,” said the woman. “You’re a little early. Gemma’s lesson goes for another half hour.” She gave us directions, and then we stepped from the office. I was a little surprised we could just wander around unsupervised, but I could see how she had to manage the office.

  Maggie seemed to understand the directions better than I did, and she led the three of us towards a fenced training area. There was a couple leaning against the fence, watching a girl riding a horse, and her teacher offering directions.

  Maggie began crying but ran to the fence and stared at her former horse. Cassidy and I followed her, taking places on either side of her and watching the girl on the horse.

  Maggie wasn’t sobbing, but she was crying. Cassidy and I waited for a minute, then Cassidy said, very gently, “We’re not horse people, Maggie. Tell us what you see. How does Dream look?”

  “Good,” Maggie said. “The girl knows how to ride.”

  I looked the girl over. She was about twelve years old, and she looked quite at home while listening intently to her instructor. I didn’t understand half of it, but she rode easy circles around the yard.

  “Good,” Maggie said again. “Dream doesn’t like a heavy lead. She’s figured that out.”

  She spoke for a while then said something that sounded like criticism. Ten seconds later, the instructor said, “Gemma, you’re still…” Yeah, I don't remember what. Holding the flim-flam thingie-majigy in her whose-fran-be-bo. Yeah, it mad
e no sense to me when I heard it, either.

  “I’m trying,” replied the girl.

  “She’ll get it,” Maggie said. She wiped her tears against her sleeve, and then Cassidy produced tissues for her. Maggie cleaned up a little then shoved the tissues away.

  We watched the lesson for a while. Then the other people stepped up behind us. “Is one of you Maggie Graves?”

  We all turned around. “I’m Maggie.”

  The man held out his hand. “Tim Harness.” He said it like Har-NESS, the accent on the second syllable. “My wife, Lana. That’s our daughter, Gemma.”

  “She’s good,” Maggie said.

  “She’s improved a lot in four years,” Lana said. “She loves that horse, Maggie. She’s here every single day.”

  “She is?”

  “She rides her bike,” said the father. “If the weather is really bad, we arrange a ride for her.”

  “She has a locker here, so she can keep all her riding things here,” said the mom. “Dream is the perfect horse for her. We tried others, but then we met Dream.” Then she turned her attention to Cassidy. “You must be Mrs. Graves.”

  “No, no,” Cassidy said. “I’m a friend of the family. Maggie’s mom had to work today. Cassidy Hart. A pleasure to meet you.”

  “I’m Astrid,” I said. “Maggie and I are friends from college. We’re going to be roommates next year.”

  “What are you studying?” asked the father?

  “We just finished Freshman year,” I explained. “We’ll decide this year.”

  “Your mentor wants you to take some business classes,” Cassidy said.

  Tim and Lana both laughed, although it sounded force. “You’re the mentor?” Lana asked.

  “I am,” Cassidy said.

  “We’re not here to talk about that,” I declared. “Dream looks good, but I don’t know anything.”

  “Dream gets the best care,” Tim said.

  He, Lana, and Maggie began talking horse things, and after a minute, I stepped to Cassidy’s side and looked over at her. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said.

  Eventually we moved back to the fence and watched the last few minutes of the lesson. Maggie partially climbed the fence, but I kept my feet on the ground, as did Cassidy.

  She, in turn, was a little naughty. She leaned down and whispered things into my ear. Squirmy things about what she intended to do to me when she got me alone. Finally I flashed a look at her. She grinned at me.