by Jen Luerssen
“When you let me,” I respond. I hold her head and have a hand on her throat. “I’m hoping you’ll let me care for you for a long time. Spa treatments optional.”
Her eyelashes graze my cheek as she moves to whisper in my ear. “I’ll let you,” she says and kisses down my neck to my collar bone and down the tentacles. She places her cheek over my cephalopod and my heart. Her fingers trail back over my shoulder tracing the tentacles to the body of the octopus. “You overwhelm me sometimes, Frank. Be patient with me and my quirks and I’ll do the same with you.”
“Everything about you overwhelms me in the best way. I want to take my time with you and rush everything at the same time. Like you’re just out of my reach. It’s a bittersweet feeling.” All of this is true and it worries me to put it out there more than the fact that I’ve already told her I love her and she’s not responded. Although, that terrifies me more than anything. But I just promised her I’d be patient so I will be the pillar of patience and wait for her.
F*cking Family
I FOLLOW THROUGH ON ALL my promises to Mikey, especially the ones where I fuck her brains out all over that beach house. We return to Sonoma late that evening and I curl myself around Mikey in her bed, Seawitch at the foot. As she sleeps soundly, I stroke her hair and think about how much I’m invested in her. This week scared me. I know, I’m Fucking Frank the black-hearted but I’d be devastated if she broke things off for good. She’s my match and not just because of all the freaky coincidences. Yes, we have similar tastes, but she also is passionate about her work, loves her friends and family fiercely, and is smart and funny. I love her beautiful soul as well as her beautiful body. If she’d let me I’d just handcuff myself to her and follow her around. Don’t tell her I said that.
Despite having thought I was in love before, this feels new and different. Mikey and I connect on a level that I’ve not felt. Maybe it’s because she feels the same? I’m not sure because she hasn’t shared that with me, but I feel like she does. As a natural pessimist, I’m going to try to quash any negative thoughts and doubts and just believe that she loves me despite her silence on the topic.
Lia and Javier return from their mini honeymoon all smiles and lovey-dovey happiness. I’d be irritated by it normally but I’m relieved that they no longer are angry at me. All was forgiven when I produced the officiant of their dreams at their wedding. Javier took a leave of absence from his job and is solely working on his own business so he is staying with Lia indefinitely.
Our practices are much more productive and cheery experiences. The week flies by as we entertain the large crowds at the Monkey and eat and drink obscene amounts. Mikey and I tend to leave any group gathering early because of our general disdain for people and also our love of tearing each other’s clothes off. We agree that our friends are far less annoying than most, but it’s a good idea to cut and run before things get too people-y. It’s a self-preservation action since we are more likely to say something to offend someone, not the other way around.
On Friday, Mikey is taking me to meet her parents and I’m a little nervous. I’m not the best with parents. I’m covered in tattoos, I’m a musician and I’m a grumpy bastard. Fortunately, I live in San Francisco where most people don’t mind tattoos and alternative careers are a dime a dozen. Most people think I’m grumpy but really I’m just unable to tolerate bullshit. I’m polite and interested in intelligent and stimulating conversation. Small talk is my own personal hell and I cringe if I have to talk about the weather or someone’s health.
So, yeah, I’m nervous. Mikey’s parents are a little conservative she tells me, so I’m imagining they’ll hate me. Normally, I wouldn’t give a fuck but Mikey means something to me so I’m going to get along with her parents.
The drive there is quiet but Mikey lets me maul her while she drives. My hand on her thigh where I inch up her skirt to find she’s wearing thigh high stockings and no underwear. My breath speeds up as I smooth my hand from the creamy and soft inside of her thigh to the warm and wet folds of her pussy. I circle my finger around the outside of her lips, teasing. She begins to squirm a little and I put her out of her misery by rubbing her clit with the heel of my hand while fucking her with my fingers. She does well multitasking and is able to come while driving with the steering wheel steady and true, eyes glued to the road.
“Fucking Frank,” she says breathlessly. “You going to shake my dad’s hand with my come all over it?”
“Nah,” I answer, placing my fingers in my mouth, savoring her taste. “I used my left hand so my right is fine.”
She laughs and I fall a little bit more in love with her. “Here,” she says handing me her purse, “there are some wet wipes in my bag. Wipe your hands, you sexy deviant.”
I find the wipes and reluctantly rub my hands on them, ridding them of the smell of my beautiful Mikey. “Always prepared,” I tease.
“With you? Always,” she teases right back. ”I don’t know how you functioned without me.”
“Me either,” I say and lean over to kiss her cheek.
* * *
Her dad answers the door and he and Mikey look a lot alike. Same nose, dark hair, and crystal blue eyes. He also has her no-nonsense personality.
“Dad, this is my friend, Frank,” Mikey says to her father. I’m a tiny bit disappointed in the “friend” label but I promised her I would be patient so I go along with it. “Frank, this is my dad, Tim.”
Her dad faces me and puts his hand out to shake. It’s a firm handshake that is almost uncomfortable. “Friends, huh?” He eyes me up and down. “You’re not sticking it to my daughter?”
“Dad!” Mikey shouts and smacks him on the shoulder. “What is wrong with you?”
“He is what the kids today call ‘hangry,’” this from who I’m assuming is Mikey’s mom walking toward us. She has light hair and is maybe five feet tall. “Your dad is on a diet ordered by his doctor and is a ball of sunshine because he refuses to eat the raw vegetables and yogurt dip I put out.”
“Yogurt dip is an abomination. Not as bad as hummus, but close.” He storms away, mumbling about raw food and rabbits.
Mikey rolls her eyes and turns to hug her mom. She winks at me over Mikey’s shoulder. Her smile is warm and I relax an inch. Mike turns and gestures to me. “Mom, this is my Frank,” she says and I like this introduction better already because I am indeed her Frank. “Frank, this is my mom, Anita.”
I’m pulled into the woman’s surprisingly strong embrace and surrounded by the scent of roses and flour. “Good to meet you, Frank, I’ve heard all about you,” she says and I must look worried because she pats my hand. “Relax, darling man, I’ve heard about how sweet you are, and how well you take care of my baby.”
“Wow, I don’t want to dissuade you from liking me, Anita, but are you sure she was talking about me?”
Her laugh is low and throaty like Mikey’s and I can’t help but smile. “She told me about the special spa treatments you give her and how helpful you are out in the vines.
If I was drinking something, I would have spit it out clear across the room. My eyes go wide and Mikey puts her arms around my waist. “I told her about how you like to massage my feet and then pour paraffin wax on them. You know, that white milky looking wax?” She pinches my side and all I want to do is find a private room so I can jizz all over her lovely feet.
“Oh, Mikey, don’t be crass. Come with me, Frank, I’ll get you a drink and we can share beauty tips.” Anita pulls me from Mikey and I follow her to the kitchen. The house is huge, but it feels cozy and welcoming on the inside. The kitchen looks like it was picked up from a home in Tuscany and transplanted here. All burners are fully fired and a plethora of delicious smells are bubbling from all of the pots and pans. “Frank, I hope you like Italian food. It’s the only thing I can cook well and I wanted to show off.”
She seats me at the bar and attends to some of the things cooking on the stove. “I’m sure it will be great. You’ll find that I’m no
t very picky when it comes to someone cooking for me.”
“I like you, darling. So honest. Michelina, could you get the whiskey and I’ll get the glasses?” She directs and within the next two minutes, I have a Maker’s Mark on the rocks with a twist of lime in front of me.
We sit and chat in the kitchen and when the food is ready I help bring the bowls to the table, where Mikey’s dad is already sitting. He is staring silently like he’s meditating. Once we are all seated, Anita makes a toast.
“To my dear Michelina and her new gentleman,” she says and we all raise our glasses.
Food is passed around and about five minutes of Tim shoving food into his mouth we finally hear from him. “So, Frank, now that my blood sugar is back to normal, you gonna answer my question?”
I gulp audibly, it’s ridiculous. “Sir, I admire and adore your daughter and would never disrespect her in any way.”
“Good answer, son,” he says and goes back to the shoveling.
Mikey squeezes my knee under the table and leans in to whisper in my ear. “I’m totally sticking it to you later.”
I relax a little and enjoy the food and the company, no matter how odd it is. We are discussing the winery and both Mikey’s parents are genuinely interested. Her mom gives her a bit of a hard time about working for such a small place. I feel Mikey bristle next to me and so I change the subject.
“Did you know that Mikey and I share a birthday?” I ask.
“Oh, how sweet,” her mom says.
“Not just a birthday, but we were born the same time in the same hospital,” I add.
Anita sits up straight in her chair. “No! It can’t be. You’re Francisco?”
Now we all sit up. “Yes, I am,” I answer.
“Unbelievable. Your mother was so calm. I remember her being very natural and just so confident in her ability to give birth. I was a total mess. Michelina was a month early and we were visiting some distributors in the city. I almost gave birth in the lobby of the hospital and when I got to my room, there she was, serene, beautiful and everything I wasn’t. I put up a mighty fuss, crying, screaming at this one.” She throws a thumb at Tim and is smiling.
“Best day of my life, every insult and accusation was worth it.” His smile is wistful and I’m happy that Mikey has parents like mine who love her so much, “Your dad, Carmine, took pictures of everything.”
“That he did, I’ve seen them and there are a lot of angles,” I say and everyone laughs.
“I can’t believe you are Francisco, what a small world. How are your parents doing?” Anita asks.
“I can’t believe your full name is Francisco,” Mikey mumbles.
I pinch her hip. “Both of my parents are well, they still run Fontana’s Natural Grocery in the city even though they’ve been divorced for years.”
“Oh, that’s too bad. They seemed very much in love.” Anita leans across the table and pats my hand.
“They were, but my dad was also in love with several other women in the neighborhood and my mom decided she didn’t like sharing,” I say and immediately regret it.
“I wasn’t going to mention it but he took a lot of pictures of the nurses, if you get my drift.”
“I do, Tim, and I’ve seen those pictures too. The ones that are not of me being born have been destroyed.” I know, it’s embarrassing but I found my dad’s photo stash when I was around 14. He had a shoebox full of tits and ass. I didn’t realize until I was a little older that these were women from our neighborhood and most likely taken without their knowledge or if they knew they weren’t privy to my dad’s zoom and crop technique. Although some of the racier ones probably did. My unformed 14-year-old mind thought they were random photos. It wasn’t until my mother set that box on fire a few years later did I realize he took them.
Mikey holds my hand under the table. “I’ll confirm that Francisco here hates pictures. He never takes selfies and I’ve only seen him take photos of Seawitch.”
“She’s very photogenic and a willing subject,” I add, squeezing her hand to let her know that she won’t get away with calling me Francisco ever again.
“Mom,” she says placing my hand on her upper thigh, ”Frank and I have a lot in common, from food preferences to surfing. We even unintentionally dress alike.”
“Interesting,” her mom says pursing her lips, “Frank, what is your favorite dessert?”
“It’s key lime pie,” I answer.
Her eyes widen and she gets up and leaves the room. I look at Mikey and she’s trying not to laugh, shaking her head. Anita returns holding a tray of small pie dishes. She stops and places one on the table in front of me. It’s a personal sized key lime pie.
“Oh, wow, thank you, Anita. Did Mikey tell you it’s my favorite?” I ask, trying to remember if it’s come up.
“No, Francisco, I made her favorite,” she says.
“Separated at birth,” Mikey whispers and we all laugh.
F*cking Brunch Again
IT’S CLICHÉ, BUT TIME DOES really rush by when you are enjoying yourself. Mikey and I are hot and heavy in our little bubble. Going slow for us is fucking on every available semiprivate surface, eating, drinking, reading, and laughing together. Also a lot of porn watching. All of it probably seems rather unhealthy from an outsider’s perspective but it feels like the best weeks of my life. The ‘slow’ part is expressing our deepest feelings, and talking about the future. I haven’t repeated ‘I love you’ to her even though it’s been right there on the tip of my tongue daily.
Instead, we show each other how we feel, over and over again. Our relationship is unconventional but so are we. I struggle to remember what life was like before I met her and detest thinking about a life without her. It’s coming though. We only have two weeks left in our residency here and the vineyard is busy getting ready for harvest. Am I worried? A little. I know it will be difficult when we have a bit of distance between us, especially since we are so close now.
Mikey and I pull up to the main building for Monday brunch. It’s a gorgeous day and the table is set up outside as usual. Almost everyone is present, with a few extras that will be helping with harvest. We pile up our plates from the buffet and find seats next to Joe and Sebastian. Andrew, Jen, Lia, and Javier are on the opposite side.
“You two are always late,” Lia says, “does it take a while to pick out what you’re going to wear?”
Mikey puts a hand on Lia’s shoulder. “It’s the sex, Lia,” she says and points to Javier. “Pick up the slack, Javi.”
Lia literally clutches her pearls. “How dare you?” she asks. “We are just more efficient than you two marathoners.”
“It’s quality not length,” Javier says and he puts his head in his hands. “Can we pretend I did not just say that?”
“Absolutely not,” Joe chimes in gleefully. “Dude, length is important but not as much as girth.”
“Can’t I just sit here with my kid and eat my quiche without having a discussion about dick size every fucking time?” Andrew asks with three-year-old Mae bouncing on his lap.
“Ah, sweetie, she has to learn the basics eventually.” Jen laughs and takes Mae to her lap.
“I’d rather she learns it on the streets than from Joe,” Andrew says.
“Hey, I’d always be honest with my Mae-day, right boo boo?” Joe leans over the table and tickles Mae under her chin.
“Doe!” Mae squeals and laughs. “Top tick-o me!”
“Your wish is my command, my lady,” he responds with his hands up.
“Alright, so we know why you’re always late, but what we really want to know is how you get Fucking Frank to stop ghosting us all the time?” Sebastian asks.
Mikey looks surprised and turns to me. “You’re a ghoster?”
I shrug, “I leave when I want. I don’t see the point of announcing it to everyone.”
“Remember the time he ghosted us at the movies and was our ride?” Lia, the traitor, asks.
“To be fair it was a shit
ty movie and I texted Andrew and sent you guys an Uber.” It was some superhero thing I had no interest in and it was god awful.
“You left them without saying anything?” Mikey asks, her eyes wide.
“That’s not as bad as when he left us at Shoreline.” Joe looks ecstatic to be bringing up all my shit. “We all went to see the Bridge School Benefit a few years ago and Frank decided he’d had enough so he boarded a train and left us there.”
“You say that like you all aren’t grown ass adults that had a car. It was a long day and you know how I feel about Neil Young, so I left.”
“Fucking Frank, we didn’t hear from you for a week. You didn’t text or call, just showed up to practice like nothing happened,” Andrew adds.
“Nothing did happen, I left, went on with my life and that was it. You all overreacted to nothing.”
Mikey claps in her seat. “More, I want more Frank stories.”
Mae joins in clapping. “Mo Fank!!”
I pinch Mikey on her hip. “You are excited about hearing all the ways I’m an asshole?”
“Shyeah!” she shouts, pumping her fist. “Gimme all the stories, Sebass, get the popcorn.”
He laughs, “Sorry, just avocado benedict and stuffed French toast.”
“I’ll take it!” She stuffs a big bite of French toast in her mouth and folds her hands under her chin. “Now spill it, fuckers.”
“If any religious group comes to his door, he invites them in and gives them a power point lecture on evolution,” Javier starts.
“It’s a really well-researched lesson, as Javi would know since we did it together. I give them the packet at the end including a bibliography with all of my sources. They immediately put me on their no call list.”
“Why did you do it together?” Jen asks.
“I had a project due in a class and Frank offered to help because up until then he was just inviting them in to talk about science. He wanted physical props and handouts so we did it together.” The truth was I didn’t trust Javier and wanted to spend more time with him to see what his deal was. It was worth it because I got to know him and that he was an alright dude, and it provided me with concrete materials for my lectures. Religious peddlers love ringing doorbells by the ocean for some reason.