“What are you doing in here?” I asked.
“Pooping. Mom says it’s best to go as soon as you need to. Holding it in can lead to all sorts of issues, like constipation, fecal impaction, gastrointestinal perforation, distention-“
“Alright, kid. I get the point. Holding in your poop is bad.”
He shrugged, like he didn’t care if I wanted to know about constipation or not. I pulled out my razor and shave cream, preparing my face for a shave. I slathered on the shave cream and then slid the blade across my face.
“Your penis is big.”
The razor slipped, slicing into my skin. I immediately started bleeding, and it was a bad cut. “Shit.”
“Mom says that shit is a bad word.”
“That’s why you don’t talk about penises while a man is shaving.”
“Mom says that I’ll have a big penis someday too.”
I cleared my throat and held the razor to my face again, determined not to cut myself this time. “Well, yeah. You get bigger everywhere when you get older.”
“Did you know that half the length of your penis is inside your body?”
The razor sliced against my jawline, cutting me again. “Fuck,” I swore under my breath. I grabbed a tissue and held it to the cut.
“Can I please have some quiet while I’m shaving?”
“On an MRI, an erect penis is shaped like a boomerang.”
“Christ, kid. Aren’t you done taking a shit yet?”
“No,” he said innocently. “Did you also know that you have to continually use your penis in order for it to function properly? Mom says that if you don’t use it, you lose it.”
I hung my head and sighed. “No, kid, I didn’t know that.”
Of course, I didn’t want to know that. I used my cock regularly, and had never considered that there would ever be a time when I would lose it.
“And did you also know that most men aren’t circumcised?”
“Doesn’t your mom ever talk to you about anything other than penises?”
He thought about it for a second. “She tells me a lot of stuff. Like, did you know that fresh pee is even cleaner than water?”
The razor sliced into my face again. I gave up, swiping a towel over my face and washing off the rest of the shave cream. I looked ridiculous, but there was no way I was putting a razor near my face again when this kid was around. I had three large gashes on my face and it looked ridiculous.
“Have fun shitting,” I said as I walked out of the bathroom. I headed straight for the kitchen where Charlie was sitting and took a seat across from her. “You and I need to talk.”
“Okay,” she said, giving me her full attention. She was already dressed and pouring coffee into her travel mug. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Well, first off, since when is it okay for your kid to come into the bathroom when another person is in there?”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Normally, he wouldn’t go into the bathroom when someone else is in there, but this is his apartment too, so I would say whenever he feels like it.”
“Don’t you have rules for guests in your house?”
“Yes, would you like to hear them?”
“No, I mean, shouldn’t you have rules so that your kid doesn’t walk in on people in the bathroom?”
She grinned at me, her foot sliding up my leg and under my towel. “What’s wrong? Did he see something he wasn’t supposed to?”
Her toes brushed my cock, immediately giving me a chubby. I cleared my throat and shifted slightly. After what I just experienced, I was in no mood to have my cock stroked. Well, maybe after I got this out of my system.
“Your kid has no boundaries. He was looking at my cock.”
“That’s because we talk about body parts around here.”
“Well…you shouldn’t.”
“And why’s that?”
“Because…he’s ten.”
“Eight,” she corrected.
“Whatever, he’s too young to be talking about cocks.”
“And when is the appropriate age to know this stuff?” she asked, a smile on her face.
“When he’s older. When he’s…manly.”
“So, you want me to wait until he’s old enough to touch a woman before he knows about his own body?” she asked, tilting her head to the side.
“Well-“
“Because I’ve never hidden anything from my son. I’m a doctor, and I tell him everything. He’s never called it a wee-wee or pee-pee. He’s always called it a penis. When he wants to know something, I tell him.”
My eyes widened slightly. “You haven’t told him about sex, have you?”
“Of course I have,” she huffed. “Did you think I told him the stork brought him?”
“No, but there are ways around this stuff.”
“Like what?”
“Don’t you want your kid to have any kind of childhood? Did he ever believe in Santa?”
She snorted. “Why would I tell him that? It’s not real.”
“For the fun and wonder of it all.”
“You mean the lies,” she corrected. “I’ve never lied to my son. If he asks a question, I tell him the truth. He needs to learn at some point, so I always tell him what he needs to know.”
“So, he knows that we’re sleeping together?”
“Of course. Was I supposed to tell him that you and I were having a sleepover? As long as he knows what’s really happening, there’s less confusion for him.”
“But…there has to be some sense of magic and belief that there’s something amazing out there that’s beyond our control.” And then I thought about something else. “Do you believe in God?”
She shook her head slightly, removing her foot from under my towel. “Please don’t tell me that you expect me to fill my son’s head with those lies.”
“Lies about what?”
“The whole thing is ridiculous. God created the world in seven days. God created man in his image, which I have to tell you explains a lot.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, if it was a woman, she would create all sorts of people. It figures that God created a man to be exactly what he wanted.”
“But there are all sorts of people out there.”
She sighed and stood from her chair, going toward the sink. “Look, I’m not telling you what to believe, but I just don’t believe all those silly stories about Jonah and the whale, Noah’s ark, Daniel and the lion.”
“You know, for someone who doesn’t believe in God, you sure know a lot about The Bible.”
“My parents made me go to Sunday School. But then I went to college and I found my own beliefs. Science changed my mind. Don’t get me wrong, they’re all really nice stories, but that’s all they are.”
“So, what do you do for Christmas? Do you celebrate?”
“I usually work on Christmas. Oliver is with his dad and they do their own thing with his family.”
“So, you’ve never spent a Christmas with your son?” I asked incredulously.
“Why is this so important to you? I don’t believe in Ramadan, so I don’t have anything to do with it. So, what does it matter?”
I couldn’t believe all she was saying. It was amazing to me. “What about me?”
“What about you?”
“Well, we’re dating and-“
“Yes, we’re dating,” she interrupted. “Just dating. Look, Will, I really like you and things are great between us, but I’ve been very clear on where I want this to go. I have no desire to do the whole marriage thing again. I like my life the way it is.”
“And what’s that? Flitting from boyfriend to boyfriend?”
“And what’s wrong with that? I don’t want to be beholden to any man. I don’t want to have the stupid arguments about who’s supposed to take out the trash or who didn’t clean the bathroom. Or to sit here when I’m about to leave for work and argue about religion. I like my life the way it is. I like knowi
ng that I can fix my own stuff without having to wait on a man to do it for me.”
“But I want to do that stuff for you. I want to be here with you, doing the day to day stuff.”
“I don’t want to have to do reminders. Will, I lived through that once. It was like training a dog. I’m not interested in doing it again. I’m happy with what we have now. We just talked about this last night. I don’t understand why I have to keep explaining myself. I see you when I want to see you. We get along great. You even stayed the night. What more do you need?”
“Commitment. To know that the next time I’m coming over, it won’t be my last. What’s so wrong with that?”
She looked at me sadly. “Nothing’s wrong with that. And I am committed to you.”
“Yeah,” I snorted. “You’re committed to me until I ask for a little too much.”
“Where is this coming from? We were fine last night. You even bonded with my son. Then you get out of the shower all pissed because he was in the bathroom, and now you’re back to harassing me over this.”
“Oh, is that what I’m doing? I thought I was being a grownup and having a conversation about my expectations in this relationship.”
“What you’re doing is saying you’re fine with one thing and then turning around and asking for more. Look, I really like you. We have a great time together and you’re great with Oliver, but I’m not looking for a stepdad for him, and I’m not looking for husband number two.”
“So, you were serious when you said you just wanted sex and nothing more. There’s never gonna be a time that you might consider a future with me.”
“I never lied to you,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.
“No,” I nodded. “I can see that. Obviously, I was lying to myself.”
I stood and headed for the bedroom, shaking my head. How could I have been so blind? At first, I thought this whole setup was great. I got the best of both worlds. I got to see her and fuck her whenever I wanted, but I didn’t have the responsibility of the relationship. But then something crazy happened, I was drawn to her and wanted more with her. I wanted the nights and the talks that would bring us closer together. So, I got that. But the minute I started to talk about anything to do with a future, she put the breaks on. And the thing was, there was nothing I could do to change that. She was some broken mess because of a previous relationship. She didn’t hate men. She just didn’t think that men and women could ever coexist in the same house. And with that attitude, I would never get what I really needed from her.
I pulled on my pants and shirt, then grabbed my stuff and headed for the door. She was standing there, her head hung as she held my keys. I tried to see any hint of regret in her eyes, but she was hiding from me. And the fact was, the only thing she probably regretted was the fact that her fuck buddy would be gone.
She sighed heavily and handed me my keys. “I really hoped this would work with us.”
“Maybe, but not the same way I wanted it.”
With that, I took my keys and opened the door, but she stopped me.
“Look, I’m just not a conventional girl. I know most girls dream of the fairytale ending and the romance of it all, and there was once a time that I believed in that too. But after living through it, I just can’t see how it’ll ever work.”
“You know, you had a bad experience with one man. It didn’t work out. Now you’ve decided that it can never work. That’s not looking at reality. That’s being a coward and not being willing to try again.”
She shrugged. “That’s your opinion. But the differences between a man and a woman will never change. We’ll always be complete opposites.”
I nodded slightly. “Well, I wish it was different. I think we could have had something pretty amazing. And the thing is, all those great moments between us would have outweighed all the idiotic things that drive you crazy. It’s a shame you’re not willing to see that.”
I walked out of the apartment and headed home. It was a nice dream, but maybe she was right about one thing, dreams don’t come true.
Charlie
“Where’s Will?” Oliver asked as I headed over to his dad’s house.
“He had to leave.”
“Is it because I was in the bathroom with him this morning?”
“Of course not,” I said, angry that he thought it was him. “He just had to go to work.”
“So, why didn’t he say goodbye?”
“Because…he was in a hurry.”
“So, I’ll see him the next time I come over?”
Shit. I didn’t know what to say. I never lied to my kid. Ever. But this also seemed like one of those times that I should ease the blow. Then again, if I didn’t tell him the truth now, he would just keep asking about him.
“No, bud. We won’t be seeing him anymore.”
“Why not?”
“Because sometimes things just don’t work out.”
“Was the sex not good?”
Oh, crap. Sometimes I really hated that I was so honest with him. “There was nothing wrong with the sex.”
“Then what was it?”
I sighed and pressed my hand to my forehead. “He wanted more from me than I could give.”
“During sex?”
I internally yelled at myself for being so stupid. Maybe Will was right. Maybe I did share too much with my kid. “No, he wanted more from our relationship, but I’m not interested in getting married again.”
“Why not? Dad’s talking about getting married.”
“He is?” I asked, surprised since I didn’t even know he was seriously dating anyone.
“Yeah, he met this woman. She’s kinda nice. He said something about her being perfect for him.”
“Of course she is,” I grumbled. “I bet she even picks up after him.”
“I heard him tell her that he should have never married you.”
“Really,” I said, fuming now that he would discuss this when our child could hear this stuff. Didn’t he know how harmful that could be? I pulled into the driveway and threw the car in park, determined to have it out with my ex. When I knocked on the door, Oliver gave me a hug goodbye and then ran inside when Kyle opened the door. By the look on my face, he knew that he was in trouble. He walked outside, closing the door behind him.
“Charlie,” he said hesitantly.
“So, you told your new, perfect girlfriend that you never should have married me?”
He sighed and stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I take it Oliver overheard me.”
“You think?”
“I didn’t intend for him to overhear me.”
“Well, you did a bang up job of making sure that didn’t happen. How could you say something like that?”
“I didn’t say it to him, and I said it because it’s true.”
“Wow,” I said, stepping back in shock. “So, our relationship was pointless?”
“Isn’t that what you’ve been telling people since our divorce? How terrible it is to live with a man and how it’s exhausting to put up with someone of the opposite sex? Yeah, I would say that makes our relationship pointless.”
“When I said that, I wasn’t meaning there was nothing good in our relationship-“
“Just not enough to stick around,” he grumbled.
“And you wanted me to? You made it pretty clear that you didn’t think too highly of me.”
“No, just not the way you treated me. I’m a human being. Despite what you think, I have feelings too.”
“Well, you never used them when we were together,” I spat back.
“Because from the start, you made it pretty damn clear that mushy stuff was something you didn’t like. Christ, trying to share how I felt about you was more nerve-racking than having sex for the first time. By the time I asked you to marry me, I already knew that trying anything elaborate or heart-felt was out of the question. Do you remember how I proposed to you?”
“Yes, we were sitting on the couch and you rubbed my feet afte
r a long day, and you said, ‘So, should we get married?’ Yeah, it was a real winner.”
“Charlie, you’re as hard as nails. I’ve never met a woman who cared less about relationships than you do. You never put in the effort. You sure as hell cared about whether or not the dishes were put away, but you didn’t care if I was happy with you. Living with you was like sitting on a cactus twenty-four, seven!”
I scoffed at the implication. I was not that bad. “If you hated it so much, why did you bother asking me to marry you?”
“I still don’t know the answer to that. Believe me, I’ve tried to figure it out. And then one day, I realized that it didn’t matter the reason. We were wrong for each other from the start.”
I couldn’t believe that he was saying this. I knew our marriage was a bust, but to say we were wrong for each other…I had always just assumed that we fell out of love.
“Did you even love me?”
His face softened and he hung his head. “You know, I want to say I did, but if I’m being honest, I think I wanted to love you because I liked that you didn’t care about love. It made things easier. But as time went on and I saw that you really didn’t have that depth of feeling in you, I was just sad. So, yeah, I stopped trying, because I knew I would never have a real marriage with you. And if you want to pretend like this is all on me, that’s fine. Tell Oliver whatever you want. And yes, I’ve found a new woman, and she makes me very happy. She drives me crazy and she’s just as demanding as you were, but she shows me she loves me every day.”
He turned around as my mouth hung open. He walked inside and left me on the porch stoop, processing his words.
* * *
I sat in the locker room after my shift and just stared at the floor. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t want to go home, but I couldn’t stay here. I had already clocked out for the day. Going to a bar to pick up a guy was unappealing. The only man I really wanted had walked out on me this morning. I wasn’t sure there was anything I could say to get him back. Logically, I knew where he was coming from. I knew what he wanted, but I also knew I wasn’t capable of giving him what he wanted. And if I had questioned that at all before, having that shocking dose of reality thrown in my face by my ex-husband was enough to keep me as far away from Will as possible.
Textbook Approach: A Small Town Romance Page 22