Grown Woman

by Jen Luerssen

  There I find a note on the coffee pot and three different bags sitting on the counter. The note just says push, meaning Paul set up the coffee maker to make fresh for me. I love him. The first bag is two scones from my favorite Irish bakery, the second has two breakfast tacos from my favorite taco place, and the third has a stack of maple bacon donuts from my favorite donut place. I shove a scone in my mouth, throw the tacos in the microwave and dump the donuts onto a plate. After the coffee finishes and my tacos are ready, I sit on the couch with my feast and feel a little melancholy creep in. Looking out the window, I see it’s an overcast day and it looks windy. I wrap myself up in a blanket, turn on HGTV and dig in, letting my mind go to its reflection place. Natural for a woman the day after a big birthday.

  My life still seems a little afloat but for a 30-year-old woman, though I feel better about my trajectory than I did on my 29th birthday. School has been wonderful and I am working my butt off to get good grades and learn as much as I can. My friend game is off the hook, but my love life is on the hot mess express. It was unrealistic for me to write off men, that’s just not me. I’m feeling like between, Mike, Sheldon, and Javier I’ve made a shit ton of mistakes. I’m not sure what else I’d do differently. It’s clear to me now that I waited too long to own up to my feelings for Javier. He needs to know because I can’t hide them anymore.

  After devouring every donut, taco, and scone, I lay back on the couch and fall back asleep with the conviction that tomorrow is the day I will meet with Javier and he will know definitively that I want to pin him down and lick his forearms. Also that he owns my soul.

  Virgin Carrie

  “You what?” I stage whisper, in shock.

  Javier gives me a sheepish look. “I know, it was a very foolish, 21-year-old thing to do but how else could I have handled it?”

  Javier and I are at The Blue Danube café near my apartment after I sucked it up and called him after my nap. I realized I was being ridiculous and that he might have a good reason for blowing off my party. What never once entered into my mind was the reason he gave me. Apparently, at the party he went to on Friday he met a comely young lass, they hit it off, and he went home with her (my heart broke at this news but I did have my tongue down Sheldon’s throat last night). No big deal, right? I mean who am I to judge, with all my shenanigans he is free to do whatever he wants. I just wish he wanted to do me.

  The thing is when Javier was all condom-ed up and ready to go, she drops that she’s a virgin, nonchalantly like it’s no biggie. Well, stupid Javier, the nice human, thinks it’s a huge deal so backs off. The next morning they do actually have sex and even though he only really kind of likes her, he felt like he had to stick around and at least spend the day with her. See? What a fucking nice guy. I mean so considerate and god damned lovely.

  “I think you handled it better than any other guy I know and that’s a sad commentary on my friends and acquaintances,” I say, trying to stay mad at him and not succeeding. “Why couldn’t you have at least texted me?”

  He shrugs. “Honestly, I had no way of explaining it over text and I thought she may not like me calling another woman to tell her I couldn’t come to her party because I slept with a virgin. I’m so sorry, I thought any excuse I texted you would have ruined your night.”

  “Wow, you give yourself a lot of credit in the success of my evening,” I say with snark. “I probably would have been fine with an ‘I’m so sorry I can’t come to your party, will explain later’ text. Instead, I was worried you were hurt, had a momentary freak out that you got the day wrong, and was anxious about it for a good part of the night.” I hate that I admit that but it’s true. “You are my best friend and it hurt that you’d blow me off in that way. You are important to me, Javier.”

  He runs his hand through his thick black hair and it sticks up a little. I’m at a loss as what to do. I have marked feelings for this man and yet I am unsure of his for me. This development with Carrie, the girl he deflowered, makes things weird between us, maybe. At least weird on my side. I was fully prepared to lay everything out on the table for him and see what happened. Now, I think I should just let it all go and see what happens. It’s a sign of his age that he had this experience and yet, he shows maturity in being honest with me about it, as well as his treatment of Carrie.

  “You are important to me as well, Diva, please don’t doubt that. I was torn up about missing your party, Please know I felt it would be weird and maybe uncomfortable for you if I brought a woman with me.” Okay, maybe he is more aware than I thought.

  “So, are you and Carrie together?” I ask.

  He nods and my heart sinks. “We are going out this week to the movies and I like her so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

  I fake swoon. “Oh, wow, so romantic. What a lucky girl,” I tease and feel a little relieved he’s not head over heels for this person.

  “Says the woman who chose to watch Hallmark channel movies with me instead of her boyfriend that gave her no zoom zoom,” he says making a valid point.

  “Okay, so if you’re already comparing your relationship to the one I had with Mike, that’s just sad.”

  “Whatever, I’m dating a girl I like. It’s not like we’re getting married.” He runs that sexy ass hand through his hair again and smiles. “My mother will hate her, she has pink hair, a pierced eyebrow and only wears jeans. She hates dresses and skirts.”

  Oh man, I try not to get my hopes up but I know this one won’t last long. He’s comparing her to me and that’s good for me and bad for her. This means I am fully prepared to snake him away from her, which sucks for her because she doesn’t know I exist. Yet.

  “Well, my grandmother always told me it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about your partner, the only one that has to like them is you.” I take a sip of my coffee and change the subject. “We still on for Friday?” I ask.

  “The Old 97s’ show where I pretend to be your son because everyone is so old?”

  “Yep and fuck you. I have a half day with Jack and Diane in the morning and then I’m going to rehearse with my band and eat tacos. Then you need to pick me up on your motorbike and escort me to the Fillmore at 8 pm where you will buy me several overpriced cocktails and some nachos just like a good son. After this, you will then take me to get more tacos. Maybe then, you will be completely forgiven,” I declare.

  “I will do all of that and I have a surprise for you,” he says with a sneaky smile as he takes a box from his backpack.

  “Want! Give me my surprise, you party flaker.” I make grabby hands in his general direction.

  He holds it over my head playfully until I finally grab it. “Greedy,” he says with a chuckle.

  When I open it my heart skips a beat, because it’s probably the best thing I’ve ever received as a gift. It’s a signed original recording of Metallica’s 1994 album entitled Metallica. It’s framed and signed by all the band members. I’m speechless as I hug Javier hard, trying to hide my smile. Carrie is toast.

  When I arrived home, Paul was watching Fixer Upper, my least favorite HGTV show. I mean, ugh, I get it, perfect couple, ship lap, 500 kids, whatever.

  “Hey P-dids.” I jump on top of him on the couch and kiss his cheek. “Have I told you lately that you are the best friend in the universe and I love you forever?”

  He tries to push me off and fails. “I know I’m the best, I take it you loved your brunch buffet?”

  “Ugh, so so much. I just had coffee with Javier, want to hear the cuckoo shit that is my life?”

  “Duh, spill it, I can’t imagine what would have kept him unless he was in jail or under a heavy object.”

  “Apparently, he was under a virgin.” I say a tad bitterly.

  Paul sits us up and faces me on the couch, “A virgin? I hope this story includes a sacrifice of some sort.” He leans forward with his chin on his fist.

  “The only thing sacrificed was my dignity and self-esteem,” I tell him the details and he is impressed and h
orrified by Javier and his manners. I also tell him about my resolve to win his fine ass back. He leaves me on the couch and returns with a large glass of wine for each of us.

  “Lia, I have your back one hundred percent, you know that?” I nod. “If you want to do this, I’ll help however I can and I hope and pray that it ends well because I am worried about you.”

  “I’m worried about me, too.”

  There She Goes Again

  The week was long. Maybe this is the universe telling me that I shouldn’t have tempted fate with Mike and denied my obvious attraction to Javier, thus sparing everyone’s feelings, including my own. Javier and I only saw each other in class and although he texts me as much as before, the flirty undercurrent has dulled. Paul has kept my spirits up but we have yet to come up with any ideas, other than wear low cut tops and lip gloss. It’s not a mystery why he and I are single. We are the normal type of dysfunctional but someone still needs to know our issues and accept them.

  I show up Thursday to Bio in my jersey knit, red, wrap dress with my black suede boots, comfortable but still a little risqué for class. This is war though, isn’t it? Plus, I haven’t been able to get Javier to ogle me in my low cut tops yet so maybe a little bit of curves will do the trick. I have a momentary pang of guilt when Mike comes in and gives me a pained look.

  “Hey Mikey, how goes the studies?” I ask.

  “They go just fine, Lia. You look nice today,” he says warily. “Hot date later?”

  “Nah, I’m just trying to get into Mr. Druck’s pants or at least bring my grade up,” I say dryly.

  He laughs and I smile back at him.

  “You have the best laugh.”

  “Thanks.” He rubs his bottom lip. “Is it weird if I tell you I have a date later?”

  “No, that’s great! Who’s the lucky lady?”

  “Here’s where it gets weird because I don’t want you to think I’m dating my way through the class or anything.” As he says this, tight pony tail girl approaches our table.

  “Hi Mike, I’m looking forward to going out later,” she says and I gape at them.

  “Me too, Shirley. Remember to wear comfortable shoes,” he says and I’m just staring with my mouth wide open like a fish.

  “You bet,” she says and with a little wave turns and goes to her table.

  “What did you do to Diva?” I hear Javier say as he sits next to me and lightly closes my mouth with his finger under my chin.

  Mike shakes his head. “I told her about my date with Shirley.”

  “Wait, she’s a twenty-year-old named Shirley?” I say, still in shock.

  “That’s what you’re highlighting?” Javi comments.

  I playfully punch his shoulder. “Good ole tight ponytail has turned our Mike’s head. I’m intrigued.”

  “She’s in my speech class too and she and I bonded over our love of sailing when I did an instructional speech about how to tie knots.”

  I slap my hand on the desk and lose it. “Oh. My. God.” I hold my stomach because I’m laughing so hard.

  “This isn’t going to be good for you, Mike. I can feel it. Sorry, bro.”

  When I finally calm down, I wipe my tears and turn to Javier. “If you grovel at my feet I’ll spare dear Mike over here from my inappropriate bondage jokes.”

  “Still mad, Diva? I wouldn’t mind groveling at your feet in that dress.” He gives me a once over and I smack him on the shoulder. “Mike is a big boy and because he’s working his way through the class dating pool he has to highlight certain skills at opportune times.”

  “Hey,” Mike chides. “I thought you were sorry, Bro.”

  I interrupt, “Don’t worry Mike I’ll go easy on you this time. Now I’m completely obsessed about why you asked sweet Shirl to wear comfy shoes. I thought submissives didn’t wear shoes or if they did they wouldn’t be comfortable.”

  Mike rolls his eyes. “I don’t want to talk to either of you anymore.”

  “It is a really tight ponytail,” I stage whisper to Javi.

  “Wonder if it gets caught in the knots?”

  “Nah, I think that’s why they braid it.”

  “Makes sense.”

  A groan of disgust from Mike interrupts our teasing and we turn to where he’s pointing. Jesus Axl Christ, it’s Carol.

  “Hello, scientists! Did you miss me?” she trills and the class murmurs agreement or something like that.

  The three of us look at each other in horror. “Why? Why is she here? What did we do?” I whisper for real now.

  “I blame Mike and his deviant knot behavior.”

  “Yes, my love for sailing has brought the worst teacher ever back.”

  “Is that what the kids are calling it these days? ‘Sailing’?” I say using air quotes.

  I get a sudden chill down my spine and feel someone behind me. Mike looks over my head and says hello to Carol.

  “Hello scientists, I see you’re still dressing for the night club instead of class,” she says this and puts a hand on my shoulder. Oh hell no.

  “Well, we are all comfortable in different things, isn’t that right Mike?” I ask, deflecting because I’m trying not to just walk out.

  Carol lets out a snort and pats my shoulder. “Well now that I’m back things are going to get messy so you may want to plan when picking out your outfit.” Then, I shit you not, she pinches my cheek.

  Javier puts a hand on my thigh and I can’t tell if it’s to calm or restrain me. “Easy, Tiger,” he says in my ear and I shiver for a different reason this time.

  Carol claps for attention and proceeds to blather on about her horrible back problems and how her son was able to give her injections in her ‘buttocks.’ Oh, good Ozzy, that kid is going to need decades of therapy.

  After class, Javier and I go to the coffee shop but order wine instead of coffee, because Carol.

  “I didn’t get to tell you how beautiful you look today, Diva. I know I don’t need to say it but do not ever listen to Carol. You are the best dresser I know next to my dad.”

  I sigh. “He and I are kindreds. Thanks.”

  “So why are you all dressed up?”

  “You’ve seen me in fancier clothes, Javi. Maybe I just needed to look good today.”

  “I noticed you’ve gone for more comfortable clothes as of late for class I just thought maybe there may be someone you were trying to impress, not that you need to try. Every guy in that class stares at you. That’s probably why Carol gives you so much shit. They aren’t paying attention to her. You are distracting.”

  This is where I should go in for the kill, right? If I had any clue how to be serious, I would. Let’s just say I give it the college try.

  “Did I distract you?” I ask and bat my eyelashes, ruining it.

  “Oh, I couldn’t ignore you if I tried,” he says, chuckling.

  “No? You don’t make it sound like a good thing.”

  “Everything about you is good. You are my best friend,” and there we have it ladies and gents. Friends. Yay!

  “That’s just sad. Your best friend is an old lady who likes to dress up to go to her college class so she can feel good about herself.”

  “Please don’t do that,” he scolds.

  “Do what? Point out our unlikely buddy movie scenario?” Shaking his head, he takes a sip of my wine glass then gives me his ridiculous smile that I wish was all mine.

  “No, put yourself down,” he says. “Don’t you see how amazing you are?”

  “I guess I’m just having a little birthday crisis.”

  “Diva, you are thirty not eighty. Your life is just beginning and you are taking that fucker by the balls. You are a straight A student, phenomenal singer, and the way you love your friends is inspiring. I strive to be more like you. I can’t sing but I have creative outlets and you make me believe that they are important, that I am important.”

  He’s right. “You’re right. I do need to treat myself better.”

  “There’s my Diva. No
w, order me more wine, I’m going to go call Carrie and tell her I’ll be late,” he says and walks outside to call her. My tiny high falls and I kick myself for the hundredth time for not jumping Javier when I had the chance.

  Beware the Golden Brownie

  Friday morning with Jack and Diane is hectic. They have back to back music and dance class, Jack has a birthday party and their mother asked that I take them out for lunch since the house cleaners would be there until noon. We amble into their house around 12:15 and I get them cleaned up, change Jack since he spilled an entire glass of milk on his shirt, and then get them in their beds for nap time. I head to the kitchen needing a cookie or a brownie or something since Jack spilled his milk on my cookie too.

  The rules of the house are if it’s in the fridge, it’s fair game. I root around and find a brownie wrapped in gold foil. It smells like heaven so I eat it and it is delicious. Right before I take the last bite, I see that there’s writing on the inside of the foil. “Matteo’s Danger Brownies.” Hm, I wonder what the danger is, fat ass? Oh shit, no, no, no. I chew the last of the brownie, swallow it and it sits like a lump in my stomach. A grade A, Marin County bud, lump. Sweet child o’ mine, I just ate a pot brownie. Not half, not a corner, no, a whole fucking big ass brownie.

  I am holding the foil in my hand and staring at it, willing time to rewind so I didn’t just fucking do that when Margo walks into the kitchen. She looks at me and the wrapper and then inhales sharply.

  “I think I just ate a pot brownie, is this correct?” I ask her and she nods.

  Yeah, so I ate a brownie that people would usually share amongst four or five friends. I am going to be high out of my fucking mind in about a half an hour. Margo asks me if I want to lie down in the guest room and I turn her down, knowing that I have to get the eff out of here before this thing kicks in. I can tell she feels awful. Recently, she told me a story about her husband leaving a brownie out in their hotel room on a family trip and she thought it was complimentary from the hotel. Needless to say, she was sequestered in the room and could only stare at the ceiling or watch Food network. She is getting my predicament right now and is kind enough to not laugh her ass off at me.