Mom Jeans and Other Mistakes

by Alexa Martin

  “You know I’ll eat anything as long as it’s in a tortilla and has guacamole.” This might not be the best habit of mine, but it’s true. Lucky for me, tacos are kind of an institution in LA and I have lots of options.

  She empties out the bag in front of us and looks to the other moms, who seem to be regretting their no-food-truck stance right about now.

  “So”—Lauren takes a bite out of a chicken taco—“what’d we miss?”

  For some reason, this question seems to piss Jennifer off. I have a sneaking suspicion it’s because my best friend is becoming immune to her bullying tactics and is slowly—and unintentionally—encroaching on her position as the leader of the kindergarten mom pack.

  And she’s doing it without a stupid cardigan.

  TWENTY-SIX

  • • •

  Lauren

  I cannot believe I let Jude talk me into this.

  When she turned eighteen—I’m a month older than her, something she hated then but rubs in my face now—she convinced me to go to this eighteen-and-over club.

  I’m not a club person.

  Shocking, I know.

  Anyway, I went with her, minding my own business and bobbing my head to the music in the corner, when Jude comes plowing through the crowd like freaking Moses or something. I should’ve turned and run. Even under the flashing lights and between the sweating bodies, the look on her face was familiar. And it meant trouble.

  She wrapped her long fingers around my wrist and dragged me across the dance floor. My ankles wobbled in the heels she’d forced me into as my body ricocheted off everyone like a freaking pinball until she slung me in front of her and we ended up in a freaking cage.

  A cage.

  Before I could even comprehend WTF happened, she was next to me, the door was closed, and the cage lifted off the floor. It took me a minute—or twenty—but eventually I gave in and started dancing with her. For two hours, it was me and her, putting on a show, dancing, laughing, and having the best time ever. And apparently it was evident to everyone else, too, because we were put on the VIP list and went back to that cage every single Saturday for the entire summer.

  Now, ten years later, I really hope this date will be the new version of cage dancing. I could use Saturday night plans every now and again.

  I check my phone, seeing it’s only a few minutes before Hudson is supposed to be here, grab my purse, and head downstairs.

  I’ve spent so much time with Hudson over the last few months, but I’m still so nervous that I have to ball my fists together to keep my hands from shaking. I don’t even know why. He’s a great guy—we wouldn’t be doing this otherwise—and I’m sure if nothing else, we’ll have fun tonight.

  I thought Ben was great too . . .

  I shake off that thought as I reach the bottom of the stairs. If Jude knew that was going through my mind, she’d give me one of the lectures she’s become so fond of since she started seeing her therapist. The lectures could be annoying to some people, but I’m just so happy to see Jude taking care of herself—for real this time and not just for show on social media—that I happily sit through them all.

  She looks up from her laptop, a giant grin spreading across her face when she sees me. “Lauren and Hudson sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”

  I roll my eyes and shake my head, but I can’t help but smile along with her. “You’re so ridiculous.”

  “Well, I wanted to change it from kissing to sexing, but I didn’t feel like sexing in a tree is the way you want to break your dry spell.” She closes her computer and tosses it to the side like it wouldn’t cost over a thousand dollars to replace. “Promise me you’ll let loose tonight?”

  I open my mouth to answer, but she just keeps talking.

  “And by letting loose, I mean your legs,” she clarifies, and I understand why she spoke over me. “Please let that man give you an orgasm.”

  “Jude!” I shove her shoulder, hating the way talk of sex still makes my cheeks burn. “It’s our first date, that’s not going to happen.”

  “Why not?” she whines, stomping a foot on the carpeted floor. “It’s not like you don’t know him already! Just fucking fuck him for fuck’s sake! Your lack of orgasms is stressing me out, so I know it’s got to have you tense.”

  I don’t tell her that my sex life with Ben was never phenomenal enough to make me feel like I’ve been missing anything these last few, celibate, years. Don’t get me wrong, the beginning was great. Everything was new and shiny and fun. But I don’t want to make those mistakes again. I don’t want to let the excitement blind me from the warning signs.

  “I’m honestly fine.” I walk over to the entryway closet to grab my shoes. “But maybe you’re the one who needs to get some if you’re so worried about my sex life.”

  “Well . . . you’re not wrong about that.” She leans against the empty beige wall, crossing her perfect, toned arms in front of her chest. “It’s been too long since I’ve had sex. But at least I’ve been self-administering orgasms. You haven’t had any. That’s the big problem here.”

  “You’re an actual disaster, and I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.” I pull the little zippers on the sides of my ankle boots and roll up my skinny jeans a couple of times. I stand up straight and look directly into Jude’s eyes before asking a question I know could go very, very wrong. “How do I look?”

  I didn’t get super dressed up. I don’t even have the clothes to try to get dressed up. But I made an effort, a very valiant one, if I may say so myself. I’m wearing my best jeans that make my legs look great and my booty look better. I paired them with a deep-V black satin tunic that—thanks to Tan France—I French tucked. For my hair, I separated it into two French braids that I did halfway to the back of my head and then let my curls go crazy. And because I live with her and she’s been bothering me about my nude lip gloss for months, I put on Jude’s red lipstick, which I was positive was going to look ridiculous but—I begrudgingly admit—looks great.

  I haven’t felt this good about myself in months.

  Years, actually.

  “Ummm . . . do you even have to ask?” Jude looks me up and down in the most overexaggerated, obnoxious way ever. “Those legs? That ass? Your fucking boobs?! And don’t even get me started on that red lip. You look so fucking hot that Hudson might literally shit himself . . . or die. He’s def going to die.”

  Sometimes she’s over the top and extra to the nth degree, but that’s exactly what I need right now and it’s why I love her so freaking much.

  “Thank you.” I let out a deep breath I’ve been holding maybe since Hudson asked me out, and relax a little. “This is why you’re the best. I needed that pep talk.”

  It came just in time, because before she can even respond, there’s a knock at the door.

  “Coming!” she shouts, and takes off across the living room, not even giving me the chance to prepare. She flings the door open without making sure it’s him. “Oh my god! Hudson! You’re here and on time and looking dapper and with flowers! I’m like a proud mom right now! Lauren, come look at the flowers your handsome date got you!”

  Again . . . so freaking extra.

  I make my way to them, fighting the urge to run . . . to him or away from him, it’s a toss-up. But when he steps inside and I finally see him, all of my nerves disappear.

  He watches me approach, and I remember exactly why I was okay with saying yes to this. He’s laser focused on me, but not in a creepy way. He’s looking at my face, his kind eyes and gentle smile telling me everything words never could. He’s wearing jeans, too, but he’s paired his with a T-shirt and sweater that accentuate his long, slender body. His scruffy blond hair is getting darker as fall sets in. Blonds have never been my thing, but as is everything with Hudson, he’s just different. He’s handsome, but even if he wasn’t, I still think something about him would just ca
ll to me.

  No matter how hard I’ve tried to deny it.

  “Wow,” he says when I reach him. “You’re always beautiful, but . . . wow.” His cheeks go red, but he doesn’t look away or try to hide it.

  I realize it’s another thing I like about him. He doesn’t try to mask anything from me. Sure, our first meeting was a bit of a disaster, but every time I’ve been with him since, he never hides anything from me. After my last relationship, where it took me too long to realize that nothing was as it seemed, this might be the thing I like most about Hudson.

  He hands me a bouquet of flowers, and I really notice them for the first time. My head snaps up and I feel like my heart is trying to beat its way out of my chest. “You remembered?”

  One Saturday after we recorded the podcast, Hudson met me, Adelaide, and Jude at a farmers’ market. We wandered around for a couple of hours. I focused on getting fresh veggies and fruits. Jude took a million pictures and drank way too many coffees. Adelaide found every booth with treats, got a sugar high, and then ran around the play area. Hudson just lingered with us all, happy to hang. As we were walking around, we passed a vendor selling flowers. The roses seemed to be the popular option, but I told Hudson that my favorite flowers were the ranunculus. It was an offhand comment that I doubt most people would even remember, let alone buy a stunning bouquet months later.

  “Of course I remembered. I’d never even heard of them before you told me about them.” He shuffles back and forth on his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets. “And you told me. I remember everything you say.”

  “Damn, Huds!” Jude says, killing the moment. “Look at you! You haven’t even left yet and I’m already giving you an A plus for the night. If you blow this, I’ll murder you.”

  The shy smile disappears and humor lights his face, his hazel eyes sparkling in our terribly lit living room. “Lauren threatened legal action when I took you home that one night and now you’re threatening murder? You two are wild.”

  Wild is probably the nicest word he could use to describe us, and I appreciate his restraint.

  “As long as you know where you stand.” Jude pulls the flowers out of my hands. “I’ll put these in water. Now you two go. Have fun. And too much fun, if you know what I mean.” She winks, not even attempting to play it cool. “Huds, you know what I mean, right? She needs—”

  “Okay then!” I cut her off, grabbing Hudson’s arms and pulling him through the still-open front door. “Bye, Jude.”

  She doesn’t say bye back, but her laughter can be heard all the way to Hudson’s car.

  * * *

  • • •

  I didn’t know what to think when we walked into the apartment building that offers furnished rentals. There was also a SoulCycle on the bottom. I didn’t know what made me more nervous, a workout in jeans or a night in his apartment.

  But as the elevator doors slide open on the fourth floor, revealing a rooftop with not only amazing views of the city, but lawn chairs wide enough for two people, and a giant movie screen, excitement replaces all of my nerves.

  “What is this place?” I’m still looking around, trying to figure out what’s going on. I know we’re seeing a movie, but I had no idea a place like this existed. There’s an old-fashioned ticket booth straight ahead, a bar and food stations in the back, and different games set up all around.

  “It’s a rooftop movie. They have them here on the weekends and play old movies. I figured it’d be more fun than a regular movie theater.”

  I hear the anxiety in his voice and stop looking at where we are and instead focus on the man who brought me here. “You’re right.” I take his hand in mine and thread our fingers together. “It’s so much better. This is amazing.”

  The smile that I’ve found so much comfort in over the last few months changes. It turns into something new, something that I like even more. Like it’s a smile just for me, one that only I can give him.

  “Good,” he says, his gentle voice wrapping around me like some of the blankets I see draped over the lawn chairs. “I really wanted this to be special for us.”

  Us.

  Such a small word.

  A word that has only meant me and Adelaide, and then recently, Jude. A word that I never thought would include a man again.

  Until now.

  I don’t respond. I don’t know how to. Too much is happening in my mind to even try. Instead, I don’t think, I just roll onto my toes and press my mouth to his.

  It’s quick.

  Maybe too quick. Definitely too quick.

  But it’s perfect. The feel of his lips against mine, the heat of his hand wrapped with mine. It’s effortless but at the same time makes me want to work to make it feel like this forever. And it’s not just because this is new. Because it feels like maybe this is what I’ve been missing. There’s a familiarity lingering in our touch.

  And that scares the shit out of me.

  I try to take my hand away, but his fingers tighten with mine.

  “Please don’t.” His voice is quiet amid the chatter and laughter surrounding us. “I like you so much, Lauren. Please don’t pull away already. I know you feel what I do.”

  I do.

  I close my eyes and push my lips together, hoping the red lipstick isn’t smearing and making me look like the Joker.

  I take a deep breath and relax my hand into his. “I’m sorry.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for.” He leans in, dropping his mouth to my ear. Just his breath so close to me causes shivers to race up my spine. Maybe Jude’s right. “You just kissed me and already made this the best night I’ve had in a long, long time.”

  Sweet.

  So freaking sweet.

  “And it’s just starting.” I wiggle my eyebrows, talking a way bigger game than I mean to. “Now, what movie are we seeing?”

  “Just the best movie of all time,” he says, and I don’t know if I’m intrigued or scared by this. “But the food and drinks are themed from the movie. Want me to tell you, or do you want to try to guess?”

  It’s not my best trait, but I’m actually really competitive and I love games of all kinds. It’s probably why I’ve obsessed the way I have over the podcast. It’s been the first opportunity I’ve had in a while to be good at something other than packing lunches and school drop-off.

  “I want to guess,” I say, and I notice that my cheeks are hurting. I haven’t smiled this hard for so long that my face muscles don’t even know what to do.

  “Okay, let me check in, then we’ll go order.”

  He ordered the tickets online, so all check-in includes is Hudson saying his name. Then the person in the booth hands us two pairs of headphones and a blanket to hang over the chairs we pick to claim our spot.

  Hudson takes the blanket and then hands it to me. “You pick.”

  I appreciate this more than he’ll ever know. I’m so picky about movie seats that Jude won’t even go to movies with me anymore unless I book our seats ahead of time.

  I find the perfect spot, in the middle of the row just a few rows from the back. There are wide chairs for two and also single chairs. I pick a double, my stomach clenching as I think about cuddling up to Hudson for a couple of hours.

  “Okay.” I point to the food booths lining the back of the roof. “Now food.”

  We get to the booth, and as soon as I see Tater Tots and Vote for Pedro quesadillas, I squeal.

  Literally.

  And it’s mortifying.

  But I freaking love this movie and it couldn’t be stopped. Knowing Hudson loves it, too, makes me even more into him than I was a few minutes ago, and I was already way into him.

  “You did not take me to a rooftop viewing of Napoleon Dynamite!” I fling my arms around him. “I’m obsessed with this movie!”

  “I’m so glad, you have no idea.” He squeezes hi
s slender but strong arms around me. “Now let’s eat some tots . . . and I’m pretty sure they have pin the tail on the liger somewhere.”

  I don’t know if I was hoping this date would go just well enough that it was worth my time or that it’d be so terrible I’d never have to listen to Jude again.

  But it’s neither of those. It’s already the best date I’ve ever had, and Hudson is turning out to be everything I didn’t know I wanted.

  Jude’s totally going to rub this in my face for the rest of my life.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  • • •

  Jude

  You don’t realize how really fucked up you are until you’re only slightly less fucked up.

  Like, I’m still a mess, but if I’m a mess now, seeing a therapist and not having to deal with the constant stress that is Juliette Andrews, I can only imagine how big of a disaster I was a month ago.

  Now I’m out here, making progress, focusing on my mental health and physical health, and being a good fucking friend. Because even if Lauren—still—doesn’t want to admit it, the girl needs to get laid. When she came home from her date, way earlier than I approved of, her smile was huge and she was fucking glowing. Glowing! So even if she still hasn’t gotten any, she already seems so much lighter. Happier. Like time with a guy who isn’t a total dickbag healed something inside of her. And I get to take partial credit since I introduced them.

  Plus, even after only one date, Hudson’s more smitten than ever. I swear he texts me all the time to see how I’m doing, but I know he’s just fishing for info on Lauren. And while I might think love is stupid, even I can’t help but admit they are adorable together.

  “It sounds like Lauren really experienced some growth,” Chloe, my therapist extraordinaire, says. “But what’s going on with you? How are things with your mom? Have you talked to her yet?”

  I look around her serene office, focusing on the black-and-white prints framed on the opposite wall. “Not yet, she hasn’t called. She’s really busy with filming and I don’t want to rock the boat. Honestly? I’m kind of loving this stretch of silence.”