by Z. B Heller
Miles came over with the pan and dropped the pancakes onto the plates. He stooped and pressed a kiss on my shoulder before going back to the stove.
“You look beautiful,” he whispered in my ear.
“You’re turned on by the ratty morning look, aren’t you?” I teased.
He leaned in closer, so I would be the only one to hear what he said.
“No, I like the freshly fucked look.”
I turned my head to look at him as he walked away and my lips curved up into a grin.
“How many pancakes would you like, Mox?”
I thought it was so cute how he called me Mox.
“Dad makes killer pancakes,” Dillion chimed in. “He can even make one with the first letter of your name!”
“In that case, you can make my whole name,” I said to Miles, and Dillion started clapping and bouncing up and down in his seat.
“What should we do today?” Miles asked.
I felt a little uncomfortable. I wasn’t sure if that “we” included me, or if he was speaking directly to Dillion and Kelly. I didn’t know what to expect, considering most of my dates ended with me sneaking out of the place and changing my phone number.
“John and I are headed to the lake, since it’s going to be so nice out. You’re more than welcome to join us.”
“That sounds perfect. Moxie, how does that sound to you? A day at the beach,” Miles said, sliding some pancakes onto my plate.
I couldn’t help the relief that stirred in my chest, knowing that Miles wasn’t trying to brush me off after last night.
“That sounds great,” I said, sitting down and sticking a piece of pancake in my mouth. Dillion dropped his fork onto his plate and reached over his chair to wrap his arms around me.
“We can build the Willis Tower in the sand. Did you know that the Willis Tower used to be called the Sears Tower and now people in Chicago refuse to call it the Willis Tower because they say it’s a crime against humanity to rename an iconic building,” Dillion spouted out.
Miles, Kelly and I burst out laughing and I peeked at Miles, giving my praise to the child he so lovingly raised.
We all sat, enjoying each other’s company. I must have eaten a billion of Miles’s pancakes. Dillion was right, he did make killer pancakes. It was just another one of Miles’s fine attributes. I heard the ping on my phone, which was in my bag, on the counter. I walked over to see that I’d received a text from David.
David: Moxie, I know you don’t want to speak to me. But there are things that I need to explain to you. Will you please meet me so we can talk?
Was this man insane? I couldn’t believe that David even had the balls to contact me. Especially since I thought I kicked his balls in so hard, there was nothing left.
Moxie: Fuck off.
David: I deserve that, but I want to talk to you. Please hear me out.
My mind flew back to the memory of David trying to convince me to become his test rabbit for his company’s new diet line. I looked down at my body. Suddenly, I thought of going to the beach, and people seeing me in a bikini freaked me out. I started to feel sick to my stomach and uncomfortable. I threw my phone back into the purse and looked at Miles.
“Hey, I need to head back to my place and clean up if we’re going to go out later.”
I saw a look of disappointment hit Miles’s face. “Sure, let me just get my keys.”
“Great. I’ll grab my stuff,” I said as I headed up the stairs to Miles’s bedroom.
I took Miles’s clothes off, folded them, and went to lay them on the bed. Before I did, I held the sweatshirt up to my nose. I inhaled the scent of Miles, soothing, reassuring and masculine. I reflected back to last night, the way he touched me, made me feel like I was the only woman in the universe. I wanted his hands on me again, soon, tracing my breasts, then stroking slowly down to reach between my thighs.
I took a look around the room again, burning the memories into my head so they could hold me over until I saw him again. Downstairs, Miles was waiting for me with his car keys. Dillion was out of his seat at the breakfast bar, standing next to his dad, floppy hair a mess from his restless sleep. I bent down to talk to him.
“We probably shouldn’t say anything to the other kids about me being at your house this weekend.”
He looked at me, brushing his hair out of his eyes. Part of me wanted to cut it, but it made up so much of his personality. “So does this mean I get to call you Foxy?” he croaked.
“While I would be very flattered, you can call me Moxie when we’re not in school.”
“I know your name is Moxie, silly, but Daddy calls you Foxy, so I wanted to.”
I tried not to burst out laughing when Miles interjected.”Ok, ok, MOXIE has to get going,” Miles said while mussing Dillion’s hair, his cheeks a little flushed.
“See you a little later.”
He smiled and gave me a big hug. I waved goodbye to Kelly and walked out of the door that Miles was holding open for me. We walked around to the passenger side of the car and he held it open, resting his arms on the top of the door. I went to get into the car, when he pulled the collar of my jacket towards him.
“You ok?” he asked, concern showing on his face.
“I’m great. More than great, actually. I just have stuff on my mind.”
“Are you regretting last night?”
“Yes.”
His face fell and he looked at me with disappointment.
“I should have taken more cheese to go,” I said with a teasing smile.
“Wench,” he laughed.
“I had an amazing time, Miles, the food and the dessert.” I pressed a kiss on his lips.
The drive back to my car was primarily quiet. Miles asked me some questions and I replied with one-word answers. It wasn’t that I was disinterested in what he was saying, but my mind was consumed with the number of cuss words I could aim at David and how he’d planted the seed of insecurity in my head.
We arrived at the restaurant and Miles pulled up next to my car. It was awkward, even though I was thrilled with what had happened last night. I got the answers I was looking for and I felt amazing knowing that it wasn’t me that he’d been running from.
I reached for the door handle, but Miles stretched his hands over to grab my face. We looked at each other for a few moments and he dipped his head over mine to embrace my lips. It was a slow, toe-curling kiss that stole my breath straight out of my body.
“Talk later,” he said as he kissed the tip of my nose.
I wanted to melt and tell Miles to screw it and turn back to his place. But I couldn’t help thinking about the text that David had sent that was burning a hole in my purse.
Chapter Eighteen
I had a great time with Miles and Dillion at the beach. It also gave me the chance to get to know Kelly a little bit more, and her boyfriend, John. Kelly completely embarrassed Miles by telling me stories of when he was little and how Kelly used to dress him as a baby and play house. I couldn’t get the image of Miles with footies and a pacifier in his mouth out of my head.
Miles was sweet and attentive, holding my hand when we walked along the lakeshore. Since the weather was warming up, it was still too cold to go swimming in the lake. Truth be told, I was glad, because I was convinced the lake was made up of sewer water from the whole Chicagoland area.
But, as promised, I did help Dillion make his Willis Tower of out sand, although in the end it looked more like a sand penis. I may have mentioned to Miles that I wanted to ride it, but he rolled his eyes and laughed.
Even though the day was incredible, I still had a twist in my stomach about David’s text. I kept wondering what the hell he wanted to say that he hadn’t spewed out before. I won’t lie and say that my confidence hadn’t taken a hit after our exchange. What was making it even worse was the text conversation I’d had with Martha earlier.
Martha the Miserable: Moxie, that email you sent me was deplorable. How could you possibly talk to your
mother that way? I raised you better than that.
I wanted to be childish and go on a rampage about how she’s not my mother, but I felt that it would be stooping to her level.
Moxie the Saint: Right, and the fact that you got a guy to GO OUT WITH ME so I’d lose weight puts you up for Step Mother of the Year.
Martha the Monster: That’s not what I did. I simply told his mother that I have a single daughter who would be interested in getting to know someone in the health industry.
It was official. The woman was delusional. I wondered what it would take to have her deemed mentally unstable by the courts, so I could institutionalize her.
Moxie the Saint: Martha, if that’s what you tell yourself to allow you to sleep at night, that’s fine. Just remember this: when Yom Kippur comes around and you need to repent for your bad deeds, God will write you in the book of death.
Martha the Monster: You know I hate that prayer.
Moxie the Saint: And I hate guilt, so call it even.
Martha the Monster: Moxie, you’re a beautiful girl, and losing some of those extra pounds will have the men trampling over themselves at your doorstep. Plus, we’ll be able to go shopping at all the places you love.
I was not going to give in to this. I had Miles who loved me the way I was inside and out. Right? Or was he just saying that so I wouldn’t feel bad? Sure, people loved my snarky attitude, but was it enough to hold the interest of a man as beautiful as Miles?
Moxie the Saint: Martha, I need to go. I have a plate of fried chicken waiting to be eaten, followed by a chocolate cake.
I flipped my phone off. Renee had said she was taking me to someone’s surprise party. I felt uncomfortable going to a stranger’s surprise party, but she swore to God that I would enjoy it. Honestly, anything to get my mind off Martha and David would help, and maybe they would have chocolate cake there to soothe my soul.
Renee and I pulled up to a small house that had yellow siding and a metal fence surrounding it. “This looks…homey,” I said.
I decided not to tell Renee right away about sleeping with Miles. I was still trying to process everything in my own head.
“Sheila does my hair at Salon Envy and she invited me.” Renee smiled as we walked through the metal gate.
“Whose birthday is it?”
“That’s the fun part.” She turned to look at me. “This isn’t a birthday party.”
“Please don’t tell me we’ve been hired as strippers for a bachelor party. I haven’t shaved my legs in a few days. I’m sure they wouldn’t be happy with Cousin It from the Addams family.”
“No. There are no men in there. Besides, do we need to have a discussion about female hygiene?”
Just as I was about to answer with a snarky comment, the door flew open. Standing there was a woman that I would have guessed was in her forties. She had blond, almost white, hair and a tan so fake that I needed sunglasses to look at her. Her bubble gum lipstick color matched her tiny mini dress. The look was completed with see-through six-inch-heel fuck-me shoes. I was now convinced that Renee had taken me to a class about becoming a prostitute.
“Renee!” she screeched.
“Hey, Sheila! Thanks again for the invite. This is my friend, Moxie.” She moved her hand up and down me like she was giving a prize away on The Price is Right.
“Moxie! What a cool name. I’m so glad you’re both here, and you are definitely in for a surprise,” Sheila said while showing us inside the house.
Sheila’s house looked like it had been picked up straight from Florida and plopped down in the middle of Chicago. The walls were painted peach and there was white leather furniture that a dozen women were crowded on. The artwork was paintings of the ocean and downtown Miami, but it was the neon flamingo that tied the whole theme together.
I whispered to Renee, “Is there some sort of Florida fetish thing going on here? We aren’t here to hear a speech about renting a timeshare, are we, because Miami certainly wouldn’t be my first choice.”
“The house belongs to her mom, who is a snow bird. She’s having the party here because she lives in a studio apartment in the city. I’ll get us a glass of wine. Try getting us a good spot.”
Utter confusion struck me as I tried to find a spot in-between two thirty-year-old women.
“Mind if we share this space?” I asked as I pointed to the space on the couch.
The brunette with dark eyes looked up at me. “Oh, Hun, scoot that ass of yours right here. Being in this spot gives us the best chance at prizes and also to see the merchandise up close.”
“Who’s the party for?” I questioned my new seat mate.
“It’s for all of us, sweetie,” she squealed and waved her hand around the room. “This is to benefit everyone. Haven’t you ever been to one of these?”
I looked at her, disorientated. Of course I’d been to a surprise party in the past. But I wouldn’t go as far as to say that it’d benefited me. In fact, I was always put out a few bucks after purchasing a gift. Renee came back and handed me a glass of white wine. However, it wasn’t in a typical wine glass. It was a clear plastic cup that was long, with two balls that made up the base. Since my head lived in the gutter, my reaction was that it looked like a penis.
Sheila stood in front of the room and waved her hands, shushing everyone. “I would like to thank everyone for coming out tonight. You all have been so supportive of me making this transition, and I think it will be a huge hit.”
Still confused, I whispered over to Renee, “Is she going through gender reassignment?”
She choked a little on her wine. “No.”
Sheila continued to speak to the audience. “I hope you like everything I brought with me, and I know that a lot of you will be making some orders. We are going to play a little game to get started and to introduce ourselves.”
She reached in a large black bag and pulled out what looked like a stuffed animal. She fidgeted with it for a moment until she figured out the proper way to present it.
It was a stuffed penis. It was pink and furry, like the stuffed animal poodle I used to sleep with at night. If the true goal of this party was to be surprised, I think Sheila just hit in on the head (no pun intended).
“We’re going to pass around Pokey to each person. You have to share your name and favorite sexual position.”
Sheila passed Pokey to the first girl on her left. “Hi, I’m Linda. I really prefer doggie style, but my husband said that he can’t get off in the position, so he likes to have me ride him.”
My mouth dropped. I am far from being an innocent person. In fact, sex is usually on my brain eighty percent of the day, the other being food and checking if I’d had a bowel movement that day. Yet, sitting in a room full of strangers, divulging information about my sex life seemed strange.
“What the fuck is this?” I whispered to Renee, who was engrossed in everyone’s answers.
“It’s a sex-toy party.”
“Why the hell do they call it a Surprise Party?” I said, desperate for an explanation.
“It’s kind of like a code name, so if you are discussing it in front of others they won’t know what you’re talking about.”
As Renee was finishing her explanation to me, Mr. Pokey ended up in my lap. I picked up the fury stuffed penis, thinking it definitely needed to visit the salon for a wax. “Umm, hi, I’m Moxie.” I paused, not really knowing how to continue. “I like to have sex and I don’t discriminate between sexual positions. I feel they have their own unique qualities and deserve the right to be used at will.”
The group looked at me like I was a contestant for the Miss America Pageant. But, in this case, it would be the Miss Missionary Position Pageant. I flipped Pokey over to Renee.
She jumped. “I recently started seeing someone who is Indian. He’s big on the teachings of Kama Sutra and has been giving me homework assignments to learn them,” she said with a smile before passing the penis to the next person.
“Is that true?” I
leaned into her.
“Fuck, no. But I thought it was more exciting than telling them I make him put his head between my legs for hours. I didn’t want to sound selfish.”
Pokey Penis had made it around the entire group. I wondered if that penis had ever been fondled as much as tonight. Sheila grabbed the audience’s attention again.
“Ok, gals, here’s the fun part. We are going to bring out some toys!”
A petite woman on the other couch raised her hand as if we were in a classroom. “Will we get the chance to try the toys before making the decision to buy them?”
Who invited this woman? I think someone needs to be lead out of the party by the pussy police.
“No. There will be no testing of the products. However, you can turn the vibrators on and off to get an idea of their speed and pulse length.”
I was about to make a comment when I felt something else vibrate. I was going to be impressed if she had a Blue Tooth vibrator that could send signals anywhere, but I was disappointed that it was just my phone.
I pressed my phone shut just as Sheila was talking about the different tasting lubricants.
“This one tastes like strawberries, which drives men wild.”
Yes, I was sure the taste that mimics the smell of my Strawberry Shortcake doll was really a turn on. Well, unless you had a childhood toy fetish, for which you must seek therapy immediately.
One of the women in the group held up a clear ring in her hand. She inspected it closely, turning it around and squeezing it together.
“It’s a cock ring,” I said to her, hoping to give her some enlightenment.