slowed. My nipples got hard. I put my hand on hers, guided it to my breast. She moved away quickly.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Was that too much?”
Of course, I knew that it was.
CHAPTER 54
I was afraid that Miriam would stay away from me, that I wouldn’t hear from her again. I imagined I would have to go to Yo!Good and beg her to come over between bites of strawberry sundae flecked with Heath bar pieces, standing out back in a puff of clove smoke by the dumpster. But she returned the following night, and every night that week: the seven nights of Miriam.
It was our own creation myth of sorts—seven days and nights commenced by a rabbi in a calla lily and god’s cosmic buzzer. I felt as though a new calendar had begun. I stopped counting the days of the mother detox and started counting the nights of Miriam.
On the third night, I humped her over her skirt, rubbing myself wildly on the meaty dome between her belly button and her pussy. I almost came on top of her, but I wanted to make her come first. Clothes still on, I positioned myself between her thick legs. I used what I had: my pelvic bone, my thigh. I undulated against her. She rose and fell beneath me. Then she gasped. I kissed her lips to drink her sounds. She moaned loudly in my mouth.
“Did you have enough?” I asked her, touching her hair as we sprawled together on my sofa after, legs still entwined.
She nodded. We were both quiet for a while.
“Crickets,” she said finally.
“What?”
“There’re crickets outside. In the grass.”
I had never noticed them before. But now that she’d pointed them out, they were all I could hear. I felt enveloped by their chirping. The sound filled my ear canals and skull. It covered me like a soft, minty blanket.
CHAPTER 55
On the fourth night, we went on a proper date. At the Golden Dragon, we sat across from each other at a back corner booth and shared a Scorpion Bowl and a Blue Hawaii.
“Open your mouth,” she said, giggling over her straw.
“What?”
“Just open.”
I obliged. She fished a cherry out of the Scorpion Bowl, then placed it in my mouth.
“Mmmm,” I said. “Cherrylicious.”
“And?”
“Cherrytacular. With subtle notes of cherry.”
“Yes,” she said. “It’s the best part.”
But when I went to hold her sticky hand, she pulled it away and said, “No, it’s a bad idea. Someone might see.”
“Of course,” I said quickly.
I felt hurt—and surprised that I was hurt. But I didn’t want to ruin our date by sulking. So I focused on the strands of lights twinkling over the bar. One was made of pink flamingos, another of green palm trees. Then there was a long strand of shooting stars and crescent moons, space blue and banana yellow. The lights were reflected in our Scorpion Bowl, as though the whole solar system were in there.
“By the way, just so you know, I think I kind of believe in god now,” I said to Miriam.
“Really,” she said, grinning. “And how did this shocking turn of events come to pass?”
“Okay, maybe believe is a strong word,” I said. “But I definitely like god. I’m down with it.”
“What’s not to like?”
I reached under the table and found her knee. I expected her to bat my hand away, but she didn’t, so I parked there for a while. Then I inched my hand up just a little, to the zone that was not quite knee and not quite thigh. She crunched aggressively on a handful of noodles. She did not evict me. I wanted to go higher. But from where I was sitting, I couldn’t quite reach my desired territory. I slipped off my shoe, then tiptoed my foot under her skirt, up her leg.
“Rachel,” she said.
“Yes, Miri?”
I continued to tiptoe until I reached her underpants.
She took a sip of the galaxy from the Scorpion Bowl and closed her lids. Softly I rubbed my foot over her undies, finding her crease. I tickled and kneaded. She cleared her throat but did not open her eyes. Her undies were warm and moist.
“You’re the wettest,” I whispered.
She gritted her teeth at me. Then the food arrived. For a moment, she looked like she couldn’t eat, and I felt proud to have put her in a state where she only wanted me. I made my way back down her leg, out from under her skirt. Gradually, she started eating. I loved watching her slurp dumplings, so aroused by