the wringer the past two days. First there was Bella’s inviting Kael and his dad in for coffee yesterday morning two seconds after telling me that Kael and Amber are a thing. That got me all worked up. Then a milk run turned into sex in the back of my Tahoe by the creek. Finn’s epic Thanksgiving toast. Mice droppings on my candy canes. Sick Santa. Stolen Santa. Linc suggesting I close the store and move to Arizona. The vomiting fiasco. It’s all too much!” I threw my hands up in the air.
With her mug of broth at her mouth, she paused, unblinking, lips parted. “Sex in the back of your Tahoe?”
On a long exhale, my shameful gaze dropped to the floor as I nodded.
“On Thanksgiving?”
Nod.
“While all of your kids were at home?”
Nod.
“You’re my idol.”
“Nooo!” I covered my face. “It was so bad.”
“Oh … did you not … did he not …”
Flopping backward, I rested my head on the cushion and kept my face covered. “God … no. I mean we did … I did … he did. And it was just … Gah! So good. And unexpected. Raw. Primal. Hot. But wrong. I think. I don’t know.” I dropped my hands from my face but kept my gaze on her ceiling because there was no way I could look at her. “The windows were fogged up. The whole vehicle was bouncing. I was loud. He was unrelenting. He did things to me that … I just can’t even put into words how it made me feel.”
Amie gulped so hard I could hear it. “W-well try. Please try to put it into words. I attempted suicide today for you. The least you could do is throw me a bone. Was it anal? Please say yes. My church-going BFF getting it up the backside in the back of her Tahoe on Thanksgiving gives me an odd sense of pride.”
“No.” I giggled, closing my eyes and rolling my head side to side. “Oral. Not anal. Then just …”
“Just?”
“Regular.”
“Regular?” She chuckled.
I snapped my head up, letting her see all the shades of my embarrassment. “Stop. You know what I mean. The … front.”
“The front …” She nodded slowly. “You really should offer to sub for health class at the high school. Instead of anal and vaginal, you’d call it front and back. And doing it in the front or back door should involve a fitted, single-fingered latex glove over the male’s thingy. Does that all sound about right, Mrs. Smith?”
More giggles ensued. And although I was hurting inside, the tiny break for laughter kept me from completely drowning. Amie always knew what I needed. “I don’t know what I’m doing. And if he didn’t run a competing business, I swear I wouldn’t care. I’d just go with the moment and sort out the consequences later. And I crossed a line. I crossed it. Not you.”
“But you asked me to abort, and I didn’t see your message. Not that it would have mattered. The food was coming up, but I might have known to not blame it on him.”
“Yeah. And he knows. I don’t know if he’ll tell anyone, but he knows.”
Amie shrugged. “Then I'll tell everyone it was a mistake. That come to find out … it was something I ate right before going to his store. He gets his customers back. You go out of business and move to Arizona. And everyone lives happily ever after. Except me. I’ll miss your ass if you leave Epperly. And Craig’s parents will too. Not that we are a reason for you to stay. Maybe Mr. Humpty Dumpty is worthy of sticking around for.”
“Sex toy.” I smirked. “I call him my sex toy. Well, not anymore. As we speak, he’s at Amber’s house for a little get-together. I think we know how this night will end. Besides … he’s not too happy with me.”
“Ugh … he’s going for the younger body. Don’t fret. You’re nothing to balk at.”
Pressing my lips together, I widened my eyes. “That’s … an interesting compliment.”
She simpered. “It’s age appropriate. Middle age is the death of excellence. Our highest hopes are mediocre. It’s when ‘good enough’ is the high bar. ‘Nothing to balk at’ and ‘not the ugliest, not the flabbiest’ … they’re all age appropriate. Definite compliments. So if a guy has sex with you, and he says, ‘It wasn’t the worst,’ I think you have to accept that as a compliment. Just the fact that a thirty-year-old guy, that