“What’s that?”

  “I want you to make yourself completely and totally sexually available to me whenever I want it. And I need for you to be prepared to roll however I want to roll.”

  I laugh. “You’re serious?”

  “Yep. If this is my last chance at something different, I want to go all out.”

  “Well, I have to ask you something then. Are you into strap-ons, S&M, anal beads, and all that stuff?”

  “Damn, Chucky. What kind of freak are you?” she asks, laughing.

  “I’m just saying. I’ll do my best to follow, but all of that stuff might be a hair outside of my experience level.”

  “Well, I appreciate your keeping an open mind,” she says, “but my desires are a little different. We only have two weeks, so there will be no anal beads.” She laughs again. “But if we had another month, maybe.”

  This time I laugh with her.

  “Will I be able to make suggestions for things we can do?” I ask.

  “Sure. Why not? Do you have something in mind?”

  “I was thinking we could go out to dinner and catch a movie or something.”

  At this, she bristles a little. “I don’t really want to go out in public.”

  “Don’t want to run into him, huh?”

  “No. I would rather he not know what I’m doing, and I don’t want to know what he’s doing, either.”

  “Fair enough. I can cook dinner then, and we can watch DVDs and Netflix.”

  “That’s fine.”

  “So why don’t you come over tonight, then? There’s a movie I’d like for us to watch together.”

  “Sure,” she says, putting on her pants.

  I stand and begin to dress. “What type of movies do you like?”

  “Interesting question,” she says. “I love sci-fi and fantasy, but I also like comedies.”

  “What kind of comedies? Slapstick? Romantic comedies?”

  “I like stupid stuff.”

  “Like The Waterboy?”

  “Yep. And I love this movie with Ryan Reynolds called Waiting.”

  “You’ve gotta be kidding me!”

  “You’ve seen it?”

  “Oh, it’s so veiny!” I say in my best imitation of the cook from the movie.

  “When the girl stands on top of the table and flashes the guys, I almost lose my mind!” she says.

  I laugh when I think about it. “So your standards for films are just as low as mine.”

  “I guess so,” she says, putting on her coat. “Well, I have to get to work.”

  “I should probably do the same,” I offer.

  She smiles and leans over, kissing me.

  I quickly cover my mouth when our lips part. “I know my breath probably smells like gargamel.”

  “Gargamel? Like the smurfs? Boy, you are crazy.”

  “Well, what would you say it smelled like then?” I joke.

  “If I had to guess, since I didn’t get a strong whiff of you,” she says, as we prepare to leave the house, “I would say that it probably smells like my pussy.”

  Two weeks, I think, and smile.

  5

  Walrus Gumboot

  Although I have been a notorious foodie most of my adult life, having sampled just about every sumptuous thing my grandmother has ever cooked, I have shifted most of my eating habits to be a bit healthier. I am almost anal with this, too. I guess I suspect that if I ever got hold of a cupcake or cheesecake again, I’d blow back up to well over three hundred pounds. But because I eat a certain way doesn’t mean that Marcia does. She probably didn’t notice that I only had a single slice of the pizza we ordered over the weekend. If she did notice, she didn’t say anything.

  I have decided to fix grilled lemon-peppered chicken breast with steamed veggies and a brown rice pilaf. A pot of hot water is on the stove, and a box of gourmet tea bags is on the counter nearby.

  By the time Marcia arrives, she confesses to being hungry enough to eat whatever I have prepared. And after complimenting me on my cooking abilities (which I know are meager), she proceeds to clean her plate, but she looks cute doing it (if that’s even possible). If she weren’t so beautiful, it might be easy to say that she eats like a dude.

  “So you liked it?”

  “Of course.”

  “I didn’t know if you would be able to get with my cooking.”

  “Chucky, I loved it because you made it—not to mention it tasted good. I’ve never had a guy cook for me.”

  “For real?” I almost ask her about her boyfriend, but I decide it’s better to keep him out of this. He’s had fifteen years; I only have two weeks.

  She sips on her chamomile tea and smiles. “Nerd moment,” she announces.

  “What?”

  “I’m about to have a nerd moment and wanted to give you fair warning.”

  “No need for that. I’m operating in nerd space all day long.”

  “Okay,” she says. “What are the craziest song lyrics you’ve ever heard?”

  “Sounds like we could easily make a list of those.”

  “Okay. You go first.”

  “Let’s see. Gotta start with the classic by The Beatles. ‘Come Together.’ Those lyrics have people scratching their heads all these years later.”

  She laughs. “What’s a mojo filter or a toe-jam football?”

  “Your guess is as good as mine. Your turn.”

  “The Eagles’ ‘Hotel California.’”

  “I read somewhere that they were singing about the music industry,” I say. “Up until then, I thought it was a ghost story.”

  “You probably thought Phil Collins was singing about seeing a person drown and not doing anything to help him on ‘In the Air Tonight,’ huh?”

  I nod sheepishly. “Who didn’t? I don’t know if I buy that story about him writing it about his ex-wife.”

  “Your turn.”

  “Okay. How about any song by Prince?”

  “That’s not fair. That’s too vague,” she says.

  I smile. “Well, we could start with looking for purple bananas.”

  “‘Let’s Go Crazy,’” she says. “That was an easy one. I thought you were going to go with something like ‘Seven’ or something like that.”

  I take a sip of my green tea. “I don’t mean to change topics, but I wanted to give you something before it slipped my mind.”

  “So we’re doing gifts now?”

  “Well, it’s no biggie, but since it wasn’t on your list of things from this morning, I felt I could do at least this much.”

  Marcia twists up her lips like a little kid who is pondering the loophole someone else has discovered in her list. “Just this one time.”

  “That’s fine,” I say. “Follow me.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “My bedroom.”

  She smiles devilishly and hops to her feet. “Let’s go.”

  I am beyond flattered as she takes my hand and eagerly follows me into my room.

  “Have a seat on the bed,” I say, “and close your eyes.”

  “Aww sookie sookie now,” she says, a smile spreading across her lips as she shuts her eyes.

  I reach in my backpack and pull out the gift. “Hold out your hands.”

  She does as I instruct, and there’s a part of me that thinks of setting the books to the side and pulling out my johnson and laying it on her hands. The thought is kind of comical, like Justin Timberlake and Andy Sandburg with their “dick-in-a-box” joke. I know she’s probably already thinking that way, just by her earlier reaction. Maybe next time.

  I place the books carefully on her outstretched hands. “You can open your eyes.”

  When she looks down, she laughs in delight. “This is so fucking cool!”

  I am relieved as she fans the graphic novels over my bed. She now has all of the graphic novels we have released at Cool Empire over the past year, and by the look on her face, I can tell that I have given her the perfect gift.

  “Thank you so much, Chucky. This is really sweet of you.”

  “I just figured you could see what we’ve been working on. I also got you this,” I say, reaching into my backpack and pulling out a Cool Empire Press t-shirt.

  “I am so gonna rock your world tonight!”

  “I’m holding you to that,” I say.

  “Please do,” she says, leaning over and kissing me briskly on the lips, before returning to the books, fanning through the stack.

  After looking at the gifts for a minute, she moves them to my dresser. She then crawls back onto my bed, tossing her socks and shoes onto the floor. “I want you to put on some music—surprise me—and turn off the lights and lie down with me.”

  I take my iPhone and scan through some of the songs in my iTunes library, find a track and set it to “genius mix.” I place the phone on my speaker dock and hit the light switch. By the time I climb into bed, Mint Condition’s “Forever In Your Eyes” is playing softly, blanketing us in the darkness.

  “Nice pick,” she says, snuggling against me. “I haven’t heard this song in years.”

  I place my arm around her, cuddling her. “I missed you today.”

  “You did?” She nestles herself into my embrace. “I missed you, too.”

  “What did you miss about me?” I ask.

  “This. You holding me.”

  I whisper into her ear, “I have been wanting you all day.”

  “Now you have me. What are you gonna do to me?”

  “Whatever you want.”

  “Well, surprise me.”

  I rise from the bed. “Close your eyes. I’ll be right back.”

  Our bodies are still sticky with the remnants of whipped cream and chocolate syrup, and the bed is damp from our perspiration. My abs are burning, and I’m still trying to catch my breath. Marcia is stretched out across the covers, the breeze of the ceiling fan sweeping over her beautiful, naked body.

  “I want you to spend the night,” I say.

  “Okay.”

  I am relieved at the speed of her response. “I’ll be right back.”

  I walk into the bathroom and start a bubble bath, lighting candles and placing them in various corners of the room. When I return to the bedroom, she has not moved an inch.

  “Do you think he’s doing this with someone right now?” she asks.

  The question comes from out of nowhere, and I don’t know exactly how to respond. I had convinced myself that she would not talk about him tonight. I was wrong.

  “There’s no way you would ever know, so there’s no point in dwelling on it.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Let’s try to focus on being here right now, in the present.”

  She chuckles. “Yeah, but he is probably out there going buckwild.”

  Resignedly, I ask, “Why do you say that?”

  “I don’t know. He just seems like the kind of person who would be off the wall if he had the chance.”

  “Well, let’s not worry about what we don’t know for sure,” I say, offering again to steer the conversation to something more pleasant.

  “Chucky, every single time we have been together, you have made me cum. Von never did that.”

  Von. So that’s his name.

  While comparisons were inevitable, I was hoping that we could push it off as long as we could. Most of my comparisons between Marcia and Maya were done shortly after the first time she and I were intimate. Then I pushed it all to the back of my head. I have no idea of where any of this is fitting with Marcia’s perception of things, though.

  “I just want to please you,” I respond, filling the silence. I can hear the water running in the adjacent bathroom.

  “That’s what I like about you,” she says. “It’s like you want to understand me. When you have been with someone since high school, you change—and they change, too. And sometimes you grow in different directions.”

  “Do you feel like you might have outgrown Von?”

  “That’s it. I don’t really know.”

  “Well, you know this doesn’t have to just be a Rumspringa. This could be your real life.”

  She half-chuckles under her breath, as if she is not sure what to make of this idea. I walk back into the bathroom and check the water. When I return, Marcia is sitting on the edge of the bed, her panties in her hands, her leg lifted as if she is about to put them on.

  “The water is ready,” I offer, extending my hand to her.

  She freezes, the fabric of her panties resting around her ankle. She lowers her foot, raising her panties to her knee, and lifts her other foot.

  “Don’t leave,” I say.

  “Why should I stay?”

  “You’re sticky, for one.”

  She laughs.

  “Plus, I want you to stay.” I kneel on the floor in front of her, placing my hands on her thighs. “Marcia, this is our moment. This is our time. I don’t want to lose a single minute. Stay with me tonight, and give me the chance to be what you need—if only for this moment.”

  She looks directly into my eyes, and for the first time tonight I feel like she is really seeing me. She inhales deeply. “You’re trying to make me fall for you. I can see what you’re doing.”

  I don’t respond.

  “Chucky, I’m not going to leave him, if that’s what you’re thinking. This is just our Rumspringa.”

  I nod. “I understand that. I’m not trying to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

  “I can’t fall in love with you. You have to understand that, and I’m not sure you do.”

  “I know this is temporary,” I respond. My heart sinks in my chest as I admit this.

  “I’m beginning to think that this is a mistake, like we might be getting caught up a little bit.”

  “So you’re catching feelings for me then?”

  “Shit, Chucky, I don’t know.”

  “Well, don’t you owe it to yourself to find out one way or the other?”

  “If it were only that easy.”

  “It can be, if you allow it to be.”

  She lowers her head, and places her foot down on the floor, her panties still at her knees.

  “Walrus gumboot,” I say, referencing The Beatles “Come Together.”

  She smiles.

  “Spinal cracker,” I add.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay, what?”

  “Okay. I’ll stay tonight.”

  “Good. I don’t want our bathwater to get cold.”

  “But Chucky, we have to slow this down some. It’s all going so fast.”

  I nod, but I don’t have the slightest clue of how to put on the brakes, and from what she’s saying, I can tell that she doesn’t either.

  6

  Meta-Care

  “Chucky, this isn’t going to end well for you,” Ran says. “I’m actually surprised that you fell for her this hard. Out of the two million or so women in the Atlanta metro area, you would fall for the one you had the least chance of success with.”

  It’s just like Ran Walker to think he can just piss on my parade. I tell you. You work with someone for two years, and all of a sudden they think they know everything about you.

  “I’m telling you that something’s there. We’ve been together everyday since the wedding. At first she told me that she didn’t want to sleep over, but she’s slept over every night this week. I think she’s feeling me just as much as I’m feeling her.”

  Ran smirks. “Is it me, or did you just tell me that she told you what the deal was from jump?”

  “Yeah, but I think she’s just talking. Trying to save face.”

  “Or maybe she’s letting you know what the real deal is.”

  “But her actions conflict with what she’s saying.”

  “Think about it,” he says. “Is that really the case?”

  I spin around slowly in my office chair, taking in my tiny cubicle and then Ran’s adjacent space.

  “So,” I respond, “you’re saying that she can make love to me every night and sleep in my bed and watch movies with me and eat dinner with me and it all just be some meaningless stuff?”

  Ran shakes his head. “That’s not what I’m saying. I’m just suggesting that it might not all be going down in her head the same way it is in yours.”

  “Damn, you sound like J,” I say.

  “Who? Your boy in New York?”

  “Yeah. That’s him.”

  “Well, I guess great minds think alike.”

  “Maybe.”

  I can hear people on their phones in other cubicles and some retro Journey song playing in the background. It’s just a usual morning at Cool Empire.

  “I hope this works out the way you want it to,” he finally says.

  I smile. “Well, if I were a character in one of those books you write, how would you make my story end?”

  “I don’t know, man. I would want you to have a happy ending, I guess. But in all honesty, I have trouble seeing how that could happen when her boyfriend shows up.”

  I place my index fingers on my temples and rotate them. “I should probably get back to work, man. I figure I’ll just take it for what it is.”

  “Let me know how that works out, though. Seriously, Chuck. I wish you success with this.” He scoots his chair back into his cubicle before pushing himself right back and saying, “You ought to take her to Dizzy and Akil’s launch party. Let all of the Ellison-Wright folks get a glance at the lady that’s straight hijacked your brain.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “We’ll have to see.”

  “A’ight then.”

  I ease back to my computer. Out of everyone I work with Ran is probably my closest friend. Yeah, he can be brutally honest sometimes, but I can tell he understands a lot of this stuff better than I do and wants to see me in a good space with all of this. I was kind of hoping that he would give me better words of encouragement, though. He was definitely a fan of Maya and me, so I figured he’d be a fan of Marcia and me, too. Maybe he’d change his mind if he ever met her.

  I look at the stack of paper on my desk and begin my daily task of sorting things out, making follow up phone calls, sending out letters, preparing for afternoon meetings, and all of the things I do in the day that fall between the lines of my job description. We have a small staff and are between interns, so a few of those duties fall to me, too, since I’m an editorial assistant and pretty much the lowest man on the full-time totem pole.

 

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