by Amy DeMeritt
“Thanks. It’s from years of never giving myself much time to get ready for early morning meetings.”
“Like the kind with us?”
“No, cutie – business meetings.”
“Well, thank you again for everything, and for making breakfast for me. You don’t have to say this back, but I’m going to miss you.”
“I will be thinking about you.”
She smiles really big and kisses my lips. “See you in a couple of days.”
After she pulls out of my driveway, I go back inside, covering a big yawn with my hand. I shake my head and blink hard a few times, trying to shake the sleepiness out of me. Lindsay sent me a text at four o’clock this morning, asking if she could come over before school. It’s only a few minutes after seven o’clock now, which is much earlier than I prefer to wake up. I want to try to lay back down, but I know it will probably be pointless. I’ll just toss and turn in bed for hours, which will drain me of all motivation to do anything for the rest of the day.
I pop a filter pod in the coffee maker and get it brewing a cup of the darkest locally roasted coffee I’ve been able to find. The stuff smells like sun melted tar and burnt nuts, but it tastes velvety smooth with just the right amount of bitterness.
“Why are you up so early?”
Carrie walks in dressed in a bright royal blue sports bra and matching skin-tight leggings. She takes my mug of coffee as it finishes and leans against the counter. She blows on it, then takes a sip while watching me with a grin.
“That was mine.”
“And now it’s mine. Why are you up so early?”
“Lindsay needed to see me before school.”
I refill the filter pod with fresh coffee grounds and hit the button for another cup.
“Did you already eat?”
“Her but not breakfast. I made her something to take with her.”
“Wait, you go down on them? Is that safe?”
“I only go down on the ones I know are clean. She got tested without me asking and she’s not sleeping with anyone else.”
“Oh. So, are you staying up?”
“Why are you being so weird about me being up early?”
“I want to do my yoga.”
“Then do your yoga. I’m going to sit on the couch. You have the entire rest of the house and backyard.”
“Well, maybe I want you to watch. I’m working on the framework for my classes. It would probably be good to get an opinion on it.”
“I know nothing about yoga. Shouldn’t you get the opinion of someone who actually practices yoga? Why don’t you select a test study group to take your classes and give you feedback?”
“I can do that at a later point, but right now, your opinion will be just fine. I just want to know if it seems boring.”
“Ok, but you can’t get mad at me again.”
“I won’t.”
I follow her outside while covering another big yawn. I sit on a cushioned lawn chair to drink my coffee and she pulls a chair over next to me.
“Aren’t you supposed to be out there getting into some good sex positions?
“Don’t call it that. I want to drink my coffee first.”
“You mean, my coffee.”
“Your bad taste in coffee has worn off on me. I never used to be able to drink this really dark stuff, especially without cream and sugar.”
“You have this backwards, kid. All of my good tastes in everything are wearing off on you. Speaking of which, how are things with Jessy? I saw she was here late again last night. What’s that the third time this week?”
“Are you keeping track of my dates? Are you jealous or something?”
I laugh hard and run a hand through my hair. “No. I’m just observant.”
“Things are ok. I still feel awkward and clueless.”
“What, with the sex?”
“No, we haven’t even done that yet. She wants to wait till I know what I want. Which, how can I know that unless I experience that? I don’t know. She did that dance, but now she’s all like, ‘let’s take it slow’. Whatever. It doesn’t make sense.”
“Sure, it does. She’s an erotic dancer in a strip club. She doesn’t want you to look at her like she’s a piece of meat you can just have your way with and toss aside. She’s not a whore.”
Carrie glares and me, and snaps, “I’m not like you. Isn’t that what you do with women? You just fuck them and toss them aside.”
“First of all, any woman I get involved with knows from the beginning what I’m about. I don’t engage with any woman without her first knowing she has no chance of a relationship with me. Second of all, I only end an arrangement with a woman under very specific circumstances. Typically, when it ends, it’s because they have decided to try to find a relationship, have moved, or they just wanted a one-night-stand. What do you want from Jessy?”
“I don’t know. I really like talking to her, and she’s really attractive, but how can I have a relationship with a stripper? She’ll be out there every night dancing on random men and women wearing pretty much nothing at all.”
“So, she’s good enough to fuck but not good enough to have a relationship with?”
She glares at me again, and spits out, “I didn’t say that!”
“You pretty much did. If you can’t accept what she does for a living, you don’t deserve her.”
“That’s not fair. If I’m in a relationship with her, then she shouldn’t be out there doing stuff with other people that she should be doing with me.”
“It’s just a job. Just like a cook working in a restaurant. Your partner can cook for you at home, and then go cook for strangers somewhere else.”
“That is not even the same thing!”
“It depends on how you look at it and if you trust her or not. She’s not fucking her customers. If she was, she and I would have hooked up by now.”
“Maybe you’re just not her type.”
“I’m everyone’s type, pumpkin. Even straight women and gay men want to fuck me. Actually, I’ve been with a lot of straight women.”
“You’re not my type.”
“You don’t even know what your type is. Anyway, listen, if you like Jessy, you’re going to have to accept her for who she is and what she does. You can’t go into this expecting or demanding her to change herself to fit the image you think she should be.”
She looks down at her coffee mug with red cheeks and her lips pinched in a sad way, as if she feels scolded. She takes a deep breath as she looks up at the sky, and then looks at me with uncertainty etched in her forehead.
“I just don’t know if I can handle it. I really like being with her. Like, we do cute couple things, and I really like that. I really like kissing her. I like talking to her. But then when she leaves, all I can see is her dancing on random people with them touching her body. It makes me sick.”
“Customers are not allowed to touch the dancers, and if they do, they’re kicked out and they’re never allowed back. She made an exception for you.”
“Yeah, but how often is she making exceptions?”
“That just comes down to trust again.”
“She said she likes her job. She likes dancing on people. How am I supposed to feel about that?”
“You want to do a job that makes you happy. That’s why you’re trying to have a yoga studio. No matter how much you want to deny it, what you do looks very fucking sexy. I’d put it right in line with what Jessy does. So, there’s no difference between the two of you.”
Carrie’s face spreads into a huge smile, and her cheeks lightly blush. She licks her lips as she lifts her coffee mug and takes a sip, never looking away from my eyes.
“You think I’m that sexy?”
“Stop fishing for compliments from me all the fucking time, you damn weirdo.”
She laughs and darts forward, landing a peck on my lips. She pauses in front of my face, looking in my eyes and at my lips. Before I can react, she darts forward again, kissing
me hard on my lips. She grips my head and parts her lips, but as her tongue presses inside my mouth, I push her shoulder back and hold her at bay.
“Sorry, I don’t know why I did that.”
She sits down looking embarrassed and upset.
“Try viewing me as a parent figure from now on. You have a lot of emotions you’re trying to figure out. You don’t need me in your mix mucking it all up. Ok?”
“I’ll try.”
We sit in silence while she finishes her coffee. Then she stands up with her yoga mat in her hand. Without a word, she walks out to the lawn, about ten feet away, and gets to work stretching out.
“This is for a beginner’s class. I need to know if it looks too intimidating.”
“Ok.”
She gives me a shy smile, then begins. As she goes from one technique to the next, I can see the stress melt right off of her. She looks so relaxed and unaffected by anything while she is doing her yoga. It’s very intriguing. I’ve only ever seen women look this at peace after I’ve made them cum. I’ve seen women do yoga before, but none have ever looked so detached from the world as Carrie does right now.
After she finishes, she walks over to sit next to me and releases a long deep sigh. She just stares off into the clouds for a few moments, then tilts her head to look at me.
“So, what did you think?”
“Where do you go in your head when you’re doing yoga?”
“I don’t want to say. It’s personal.”
“Ok. Well, if I was standing on the sidewalk watching your class through the window, I’d be drawn inside. And if I was taking your class, I’d be trying hard to reach that place you get to. It wasn’t intimidating at all – it was inviting.”
“So, you weren’t thinking about sex while you were watching me this time?”
I laugh and shake my head. “Well, not completely.”
“Jerk.”
“Get over it. Now, go make us breakfast. I’m starving.”
“What do you want?”
“An omelet, maple sausage, and cantaloupe.”
“Ok. Come keep me company.”
Chapter Twelve
I plop down on the couch next to Janae with a big bowl of popcorn and she immediately pulls my arm up over her shoulders.
“You took too long.”
“Sorry. The first bag wasn’t popping so I had to try another one. Did any scary hags appear while I was gone?”
“No, but I feel like someone has been watching me.” I laugh a little and pull her in tighter as I kiss her lips. “I’m sorry, babe. Are you ready to continue the movie?”
“Yes.”
I push play on the movie, and she snuggles in closer as she grabs a pinch of popcorn.
Janae gets freaked out easily, but she still loves watching scary movies with me. We’re watching a movie about sleep paralysis with an evil ugly hag that kills people in their sleep. It’s an interesting movie with some decent effects. The hag is really grotesque, but not over the top. Sometimes, directors go too far in making a monster so unbelievable that it becomes comical and isn’t scary at all.
Janae jumps and releases a small shriek as she buries her face in my chest, but then laughs at herself and looks up at the screen again.
“Damnit, I knew that was coming. Why did I jump?”
“Because you’re adorable.”
“Hold me tighter.”
I tighten my arm around her, and she lays her head on my chest again. She grips my shirt in her fist as the sheet on the bed starts to pull off of the character’s body by an unseen force, and she releases a small whimpering sound.
“I hate when they do that. Why do you have to…?”
She shrieks and laughs again as the hag appears above the sleeping person with her ugly face and long dagger like claws.
“Wake up!”
She screams at the character, as if they can hear her, which makes me laugh and I kiss the top of her head. She tightens her grip on my shirt, and then smacks my chest in frustration as the person dies in their sleep.
“That hag needs to be locked up in a cage with only Disney pop music to listen to for eternity. Stupid evil bitch.”
I laugh hard and Janae lifts her head with a smile. She kisses my lips and then snuggles in close again.
The movie starts to get really intense with more deaths, more appearances of the hag, and people scrambling to figure out how to stop her, or at least be released from her nightly visits. Janae gets so freaked out that she ends up curled up on my lap and is just peeking out from above my arms. I really love watching scary movies with Janae. She is just so adorable.
The movie ends as most horror movies do – most of the characters are dead, the hag is still out there, but at least the remaining characters got away – for now. As the credits start rolling, she releases a deep sigh and lifts her head to look at me.
“That was a good one.”
I laugh and kiss her lips. “Yeah, it wasn’t bad. Do you want to watch another one?”
“Yeah, but I’m getting hungry. Let’s order pizza and wings. And I want some beer.”
“I’ll get the beer if you want to put the order in.”
“No, we have to stay together or the hag might get me.”
“The evil bitch will have to go through me first. No one is taking you from me.”
Janae smiles really big and straddles my lap as she grabs my head in both of her heads. She caresses my head and runs her fingers through the top, tugging and pulling my hair, which causes my eyes to close and my head to roll around on my shoulders in pleasure. Oh, god, I love when she does this. She kisses my lips and sucks my bottom lip very slowly, but firmly, causing me to release a small sound of pleasure.
“You should kiss me.”
She gives my cheek a few loving pats and shakes her head with a smile. “You can’t handle it, honey. You’re going to want more if I kiss you.”
“I already want more.”
“Come on, let’s get the beer and order food.”
She pulls me up from the couch and leads me to the kitchen. While she uses my cellphone to order the food online, I pull two summer ales from the fridge, pop the tops, and grab an orange. I grab two beer mugs from the cabinet, wash the orange really well, then cut it into quarters. I squeeze a wedge into each glass, leaving a wedge in both, then pour the beer along the side of the glass to prevent it from foaming up.
“I want a double-shot of whiskey too.”
“Ok.”
I fill two tall shot glasses, and then lean across the counter to watch her pick out food.
“They have a new wing sauce. It’s called, spicy Hawaiian barbeque. Do you want to try it?”
“Sounds good. You should get something you know you like as well, just in case they’re terrible.”
“I have some extra hot buffalo wings in the cart already. Do you want the parmesan garlic fries you like?”
“No, I don’t want to stink you out with bad breath while we’re cuddling.”
“Oh, good point. Ok, let me just remove those abominations from the cart then.” I laugh as she reaches out to pinch my nose with a cute smile. “Ok, I am getting the two types of wings, a large pepperoni pizza with extra sauce and extra pepperoni, and a cheesesteak pizza. Anything else you want?”
“No, that sounds perfect.”
“Ok, it will be here in about forty-five minutes. Let’s do the shots and then go find another movie. Here, Jasmine is texting you.”
Jasmine: Hey, I know it’s short notice, but are you doing anything tomorrow? Are you interested in an overnight guest?
“Are we doing anything tomorrow or tomorrow night?”
“We don’t have anything planned. Why?”
“Jasmine wants to come for an overnighter.”
“If you want her to come, then that’s fine.”
“Are you really fine with it?”
Janae pulls me to stand between her thighs and loosely wraps her arms around my waist. “Why are
you asking me that? You know your lifestyle doesn’t bother me. I want you to be happy.”
“I know, but I failed at being able to find someone that could fix your grandmother’s mixer. I want to be here for you while you mourn its loss.”
“Well, when you put it like that, then maybe I would like to have you for the rest of the weekend.”
“Ok, babe.”
She lays her head on my chest, and I type out a response to Jasmine letting her know I have plans with Janae.
Jasmine: Damn. Ok. I just found out I have to go on a business trip to Japan. I leave on Monday morning and I’ll be gone for three months. You better wait for me to get back before ordering more inventory. I don’t want you fucking any of the women I work with.
“Damn.”
“What?”
“Jasmine has to leave for Japan on Monday and will be gone for three months.”
Janae lifts her head to look in my eyes with sadness elongating her face and tugging her full lips down.
“Then you should let her come over. We can do something after she leaves.”
“I already told you I’ll spend the weekend with you.”
“What would you prefer to do?”
“Be with you.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“But I feel bad now. Why don’t you see if she can just come for a few hours instead of an overnighter?”
“What will you do while she’s here?”
“I guess I can run some errands I need to get done.”
“Like what?”
She releases a small laugh and caresses my cheeks. “Honey, just make the plans for tomorrow afternoon.”
“Ok, hang on.”
She lays back down on my chest and I ask Jasmine if she can come for the afternoon.
Jasmine: I’ll be there.
Me: Good. See you tomorrow.
“Ok, she’ll be here tomorrow around one o’clock. Are you really ok with this?”
“Yes, honey. Can you take me to visit my grandmother’s grave tomorrow after Jasmine leaves?”
“Yeah, of course. Here.” I grab the shots of whiskey, and as she accepts one, I say, “In memory of Joan Marie Callaghan. I will never forget her infectious laugh, how easily she loved, and how warm and soft her hands always were. Your hands are like that. I love your hands.”