Pride & Joie: The Conclusion (#MyNewLife)

by M. E. Carter

  Now, if I could only get him to leave the toilet seat down. I almost fell in a few minutes ago. Fortunately, I didn’t scream obscenities and wake him up. Not because he doesn’t deserve it, but because I need to finish getting rid of my lady ‘stache, and I’d rather him not see me like this.

  Putting the last of the bleach on my upper lip, I set the timer so I don’t lose track of time. I like to multi-task, and there’s no better time to clean a bathroom than when you have to be close to a wash rag anyway so you don’t accidentally burn your skin off.

  Squatting down, I grab some cleaning supplies from under the sink. Ajax for the tub. Toilet cleaner for the commode. Scrubbing Bubbles for the tile. I stand up and turn around just as Jack pads into the room, scratching his head, his eyes barely open.

  “Morning.” His voice comes out all sleepy and husky. Normally I love the sound, but right now, I’m mortified he walked in on me like this.

  Whipping around so I’m facing the wall, I squeal. “Ohmygod, what are you doing in here?” The telltale sounds of him peeing answers that question for me. “Are you peeing in front of me?”

  “Is that a problem?”

  “Yes, it’s a problem! You can’t pee in front of me!”

  “I’m not. I’m peeing behind you. Why are you facing the wall, anyway? I don’t care if you see this.”

  Carefully, I place the cleaning bottles on the counter, one-by-one, trying not to drop them since I can’t move my head to see where they’re going. “Don’t you think that’s a little bit intimate?”

  He snorts a laugh. “Really, babe? We have sex, but this grosses you out? And why are you still facing the wall?” The toilet flushes, and I brace myself for what’s next.

  Sure enough, he takes me by the elbow and spins me around, a curious stare crossing his features as he takes in my appearance. “Is that like that Nair stuff or something?”

  “It’s bleach. And you’re not supposed to see me like this.”

  He looks so confused at that statement. “Why?”

  “Because you’re not supposed to know your live-in girlfriend has to bleach her mustache.”

  “Really? I had my tongue in your pussy last night, but I can’t see a little goop on your face?”

  I gasp and begin laughing, smacking him playfully. “Jack! I can’t believe you said that! You’re so crude.”

  “You love it when I’m crude.” He pulls me into his arms, careful not to get my face near his chest, and nuzzles into my neck. “I know it makes you horny when I tell you how much I love your pussy and how good it feels on my dick when you come.”

  I suck in a breath. He’s right. It turns me on, but I’ll never admit it. “So crass,” I murmur, as he kisses down my neck.

  “Only for you.”

  “Lies. You cuss like a sailor.”

  He chuckles in my ear. “You’ve got me. But I only dirty talk for you.” Kissing my neck again, he pulls away. “When does that crap come off? I wanna give you a proper good morning kiss.”

  “Here.” I reach behind me, pulling his toothbrush out of the silver holder and slap it in his hand. “Brush first. I only have about two more minutes to go.”

  “That’s it?”

  “I’ve been doing this for years. It’s just maintenance every few weeks.”

  A blob of toothpaste falls into the sink when he squeezes it onto his brush. He doesn’t even notice, so I reach over the clean it up while he tries to talk and brush at the same time.

  “Shee?” His words sound slurred around the bubbles in his mouth. “It waddn’t sho bad telling me abou that, wight?”

  The buzzer goes off, and I grab my wash rag, the one with other bleach stains already on it, and quickly clean up my face. “I suppose not. There are just some things a lady doesn’t want her man to know about. Masculine facial hair is one of them.”

  He spits and wipes his lips on the hand towel—ew. Mental note to replace that every morning before using it on my hands—and leans over for a kiss. “Many a bearded lady made a good living in the circus off that facial hair. No judgement here.”

  I laugh while rolling my eyes at him. He’s ridiculous. And messy. As he heads out of the bathroom to go throw some pants on, he leaves the hand towel crumpled up on the counter. Sighing, I remind myself leaving it in a heap almost guarantees I won’t accidentally forget that it’s dirty and use it.

  Following a few seconds behind him, I toss the towels into their respective baskets—hand towel with the rest of the towels. Wash rag in with the whites that will also be bleached later. Pre-sorting like this has saved me a lot of time over the years.

  “Come help me make the bed,” I bellow over my shoulder as I toss all the pillows on the floor.

  “That’s my least favorite chore,” he calls back, but he shuffles around the bed to help, dressed in some old sweatpants and a T-shirt. He’s very careful not to walk around the house without being somewhat dressed. I’m not sure if he’s always done that or if it’s out of respect in case Isaac shows up unannounced. If it’s for Isaac’s sake, I hope he’ll stop. This is his home, too. If he wants to walk around naked, I have no problem with it. None at all.

  “You mean you have a favorite one?” I playfully scold while we fluff the top sheet and blanket, then pull it up at the same time, smoothing it out.

  “Okay, true. I don’t really like any chore. But making a bed seems pointless. We’re just gonna undo it tonight and mess it all up again.”

  “What? A made bed makes the room look cleaner,” I argue, tossing the pillows back on. “Plus there’s nothing like the feeling of sliding your feet in between cool, tight sheets.”

  He raises an eyebrow. “Is the word sheets code for something dirty?”

  I shake my head in amusement and snatch some yoga pants out of the drawer. “Always with the dirty mind.”

  “It’s your fault. It started when you had that sexy-ass goop on your face while I had my morning wood.”

  “You wouldn’t have seen that goop if you hadn’t come in to pee in front of me.”

  He stops and looks at me quizzically. “Does it really bother you that much?”

  I shrug because the way he’s looking at me makes me feel embarrassed by my feelings. Is it really that weird? Am I just so set in my ways because I haven’t had to share my space that normal things couples do don’t feel normal to me?

  “Joie, if it’s really that big of a deal, I’ll use the half bath next time.”

  “Well, now I feel bad for making it into a thing.”

  “Don’t. I honestly don’t get it. You literally watched me come all over your stomach that one time, so I don’t quite see how this is different.” I blush at the memory. That was a good night. “But if it makes you uncomfortable, I can adjust. I’m not gonna invalidate your feelings because they’re different than mine.”

  I look up at him through my lashes and have this strange, overwhelming feeling in my chest, like I’ve fallen for him even more because of his goodness.

  “I might make fun of you for them, but I won’t invalidate them.”

  And now my regular Jack is back. Sometimes I have to remind myself it’s a good thing I have the same crazy sense of humor he has. He never would have made it past the front door with me if I didn’t.

  “No,” I sigh. “Don’t stay out of the bathroom. I’ll deal with it. I can’t guarantee I’ll ever pee in front of you, but I won’t look when you do it.”

  He shrugs. “Okay, but if you change your mind, just tell me. And Joie”—I look up at him, not sure what to expect from him next; he’s pretty ornery this morning—“just know, someday you’re going to accidentally fart in front of me, and that’s okay, too.”

  My jaw drops open. “Excuse you, Mister. Ladies do not fart. They whisper in their panties.” I stick my tushy out, put my finger to my lips and make a “shhhhhhhh” sound. Jack laughs so hard, I legitimately think he’s going to fall over. Walking past him to the kitchen, a smirk lights up my face for having gotten t
he upper hand.

  He follows behind me, still chuckling and wiping his eyes. “That was so funny. I’ve never heard that before.”

  Snatching two mugs out of the cabinet, I grab the ready-made coffee and begin pouring us both a cup. Thank goodness for timers on coffee makers. “Never?”

  “No.” He sniffs and pulls himself back together. “It was great though.”

  I smile at him as I bring the mug of look-alive juice to my lips. This right here. This is what I enjoy so much. Bantering with him first thing in the morning. Enjoying a cup of coffee together. Getting ready for the day, side-by-side.

  “So what’s your day look like?” he asks between sips. “You ready for your biology test?”

  I groan. “I hope so. I don’t know what I was thinking taking Bio II this semester.”

  “As opposed to what? Chemistry?”

  “Yeah. But chemistry has so many more labs, I thought it was more conducive to my time management to take the second part of biology. Plus, I figured it would just be a continuation of what I already learned. I had no idea it would be this hard.”

  Jack finishes his coffee in record time and drops his mug on the counter. Rounding the corner to kiss me on the top of my head, he goes right into coach mode. “You’re going to be fine. You’ve worked hard for this. Take a deep breath and stay focused. You know what you’re doing.”

  I can imagine him giving the exact same pep talk to his players before a game, which makes me giggle.

  “What?” He pulls away, but keeps his hand on my neck and looks at me. “Why is that funny?”

  I shrug. “I think it’s cute that Coach Pride came out to play so early in the morning.”

  “What can I say? It’s who I am.” He kisses me again and turns away. “I’m gonna go take a shower now. Join me?” He waggles his eyebrows up and down. I really do love playful Jack.

  “Maybe in a minute. I’m gonna start gathering my things. Maybe clean up the dirty coffee mug you left sitting on the counter.” I poke fun at him for it, but it really does drive me crazy sometimes, and he knows it. Keeping a clean house isn’t his forte at all. But I have to give him some grace as we get used to living together. Neither of us has to be perfect in this endeavor. I know I’m not. I can be way too set in my ways.

  Still, he has the wherewithal to look apologetic. At my reminder, he grabs the mug and begins rinsing it out. “You’re right,” he says. “I need to be better about cleaning up after myself. Or maybe I need to spring for a maid.”

  Hmm. The thought actually makes me pause. I’ve always thought a maid would be a waste of money when there were able-bodied people living in the home. But I’m so exhausted from late night study groups, the idea has some merit.

  “You like that idea, don’t you?” he jokes as he, no doubt, sees my eyes light up at the prospect of never having to do windows again.

  “We’ll table that discussion for a later date.” Slapping him on the rear, I say, “Go. Shower. I’ll get this cleaned up and be there in a minute.”

  He follows my instructions and I make quick work of cleaning the kitchen. Neither of us are big breakfast eaters, which comes in handy. Just as I shut the dishwasher, I notice the light blinking on my phone. It’s a text Isaac sent this morning.

  Isaac: So how pissed are you?

  About what?

  Isaac: About dad calling.

  My whole body runs cold. I haven’t heard from Charlie in over a decade. Why is he calling now? What does he want?

  What? When did that happen? Did you talk to him?

  Isaac: Uh . . . I take it Jack didn’t tell you about it.

  Now I’m flushing hot. Jack knows about this? Before I do? And why didn’t he tell me? My thoughts are racing as I try to stay calm for my child, when I’m feeling anything but.

  Nope. So why don’t you tell me. What did he say?

  Isaac: Nothing much. He left a message. Jack’s seen this before so he kind of talked me through it. But I don’t know if I’m going to call him back yet.

  I blink a few times as I get my thoughts straight. I’m so angry right now, but I’m not sure why. Is it because Charlie’s back? Is it because Jack kept this from me? Is it because Isaac doesn’t need me anymore? The only thing I know for sure is I have to stay calm for Isaac. Even if I’m furious, he doesn’t need to know that. I’ve never been more grateful to hide behind a text message.

  Well, keep me updated. If you need me to get involved, let me know.

  Isaac: I will. But I’m sure it’ll be fine.

  You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. I have to get to class now. Have a great day, honey. Love you.

  Isaac: Love you, too.

  Gently placing my phone on the counter so I don’t accidentally smash it into the granite, like my muscles really, really want to right now, I turn and stomp my way into the master bedroom, straight to the bathroom. I whip open the shower curtain, making Jack squeal like a pig. Which is what I want to call him right now because I’m so angry.

  “You knew Charlie called?”

  “Who?” Jack crossed his arms and rubs up and down his biceps, warding off the chill that is probably beginning to take over now that the steam is gone.

  “Charlie! Isaac’s dad.”

  “Oh, I never knew his name.” He ducks his head under the water, droplets spraying all over the bathroom. I don’t care about the mess right now.

  “Jack!” I cry out stomping my foot. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  He leans down and shuts the shower off, then twists to grab the towel off the rack to start drying off. If I wasn’t so irritated, I’d probably be lusting over his chest right about now.

  “I didn’t tell you because it’s not my story to tell.”

  “That’s a cop out.”

  Pushing past me, he climbs out of the shower while wrapping the towel around his waist. “It’s not a cop out. If I had told you, you’d be mad the information didn’t come from Isaac, right?”

  I crinkle my nose, knowing he’s right but not wanting to say it out loud.

  “Instead, you’re mad at me because he did tell you. So are you really mad at me or are you just upset in general, and I happen to be here?”

  In this moment, I don’t know the answer. All I know is the man who left Isaac and me high and dry is coming around again, and I’m the last one to know.

  “What did you and Isaac talk about?” I can’t look at him, partially from my own embarrassment. Although I can hear the sounds of the shaving cream squirting out of the can and him rubbing it on his face.

  “He came to me in my office to talk about it. At first, I thought he wanted me to move out of the house or something.”

  I catch his eyes in the mirror. I didn’t realize he was worried about that.

  “He assured me he actually feels safer with me here, which was nice to hear.” He pauses to run his razor through the hot water for a few seconds. “He told me his dad had called. Knew I had dealt with other players whose absent parents showed up when they started showing promise on the field. He just wanted to know my opinion—did I think Charlie . . . Charlie?” I nod. “Did I think Charlie was really interested in Isaac or was he after something?”

  Jack angles his head so he can clean off the hair growth under his chin. For whatever reason, I like the sound it makes. Yet another thing I’d like about living with him if I wasn’t so full of emotion right now.

  “What did you say?”

  He cleans the razor off again. “I told him I didn’t know his dad, so I couldn’t say for sure. But that he needed to be careful. Make his dad prove he’s trustworthy before blindly falling into a relationship with him.”

  I nod. “Okay,” I say quietly. “Okay.”

  “Joie.” I look up again to find Jack staring at me in the mirror. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I wasn’t keeping it from you. It never came up, and as far as I know, there’s only been the one message. I figured Isaac was still sorting his thoughts out and needed some space.
”

  “I know. I don’t think I’m mad at you. I think maybe I’m just surprised.”

  Jack’s lips quirk up into an understanding smile. “I was surprised, too. I never thought Isaac would come to me for man-to-man advice. But this is a good thing, right? That means he’s okay with our living arrangements.”

  I smile back, even though I’m not really feeling it. “Yeah. Yeah, this is good.”

  Walking slowly out of the bathroom to get ready for my day, my words don’t match my thoughts. If this is so good, why do I feel like my entire world just shifted upside down?

  Today was a shitty day. After the argument, or whatever that was Joie and I had this morning, it all kind of went downhill.

  First, there was a major accident on the highway into Flinton, so I was late for a meeting with a potential recruit. The kid is a huge linebacker prospect from Alabama. We really want him, and I gave him the impression we have a lackadaisical program by not showing up on time. Not good.

  Then we got a tip that one of our running backs may be juicing. A few mandatory pee tests later and not only did we find steroids, it looks like he’s been snorting coke, too. We could have canned his ass, but instead we benched him and spent the rest of the day looking for a rehab that’ll work with his parents’ insurance. That’s after I got tasked with calling the kids mama to tell her he’s a druggie who might lose a full ride over this. The decision on his future as a Viking is still up in the air, but agreeing to treatment was a show of good faith on his part.

  And to top it all off, because of the positive drug test, we had to call in everyone else for mandatory testing. The whole team. Fortunately, no one else popped positive, but the flip side is we may have a campus-wide problem and the athletic director now gets to take over. It’s likely that I’ll be doing my own pee test tomorrow and having drug dogs sniffing around my office. The kid got the drugs somewhere and the university doesn’t take this shit lightly. They’ll investigate everyone: players, coaches, and anyone in between.