Any Way You Want Me - By Jamie Sobrato Page 0,9
traditional trappings of success: no husband, no kids, no house in the suburbs. Sure, she had a great career, a cute apartment and a fabulous wardrobe, but wasn’t she supposed to want something more?
Where the hell was her ticking biological clock?
They reached the exit and Yasmine sighed as she held the door open. “What is going on with you?”
“Am I a freak of nature?”
“I thought that was a long-established fact,” she said, but her smile softened the statement.
They walked out into the bustling sidewalk traffic outside the downtown mall and headed west toward the little upscale sex shop where Yasmine was sure to find any and every sexy gift imaginable. At the corner they stopped to wait for the light to change.
“I mean, aren’t women of a certain age supposed to, you know, start wanting to settle down and be normal and stuff?” Cass said.
“There’s no such thing as normal, and you’re way too young to be worried about settling down, anyway.”
Cass felt a stab of guilt for ever having lied to her own best friend about her age, but it was a lie she’d told years ago, when they’d first met, and she’d never quite gotten up the nerve to tell the truth until today. Anyway, it was sweet of Yasmine to still put her in the young category, even if it wasn’t true.
Still, Cass felt liberated by having told the truth. And honestly, she was a little surprised to realize she was fine with turning forty.
“I guess you’re right,” she said as they crossed the street.
A cold breeze blew between the tall buildings, and Cass wrapped her long red scarf a few times around her neck and buttoned her white wool coat. They picked up their pace, and in a matter of minutes were at the sex shop.
Inside, seventies dance tunes played over the speakers, and aisle after aisle of every sex toy, accessory and undergarment imaginable stood on display. Yasmine hesitated at the entrance. Cass grabbed Yasmine’s hand and tugged her toward the vibrator section.
Cass picked up a large, nubby hot-pink one from the top shelf and weighed it in her hand. “Might not be the greatest gift for a guy, but I, for one, would love to find this baby in my stocking.”
“I’m not buying you a sex toy for Christmas,” Yasmine said.
“And that’s the difference between you and me. I would buy one for you,” Cass said as seriously as if she were offering to donate a vital organ.
“That’s touching.”
“No, honey, that’s vibrating.” She clicked the on button, and the toy in her hand hummed to life.
At practically the same moment, a new song came on, and suddenly Donna Summer was singing about her last dance of the night. Cass adored Donna Summer. In fact, it was pretty much a rule that no matter the time or place, if any of her songs came on, Cass felt compelled to launch into a full-fledged lip sync and dance routine.
Yasmine cast a wary look in her direction and started edging away toward the lingerie section. “You’re not going to—”
Too late. “To-night,” Cass belted out in time with the song, the vibrator held to her mouth like a microphone. Screw lip syncing. She knew this one by heart, so she could sing along for real.
She shimmied her hips to the music, dancing down the aisle, singing, the star of her own impromptu concert. This was the kind of craziness that had been missing from her life lately. This was what she needed to reclaim. It felt good…and right…and utterly silly.
Across the store from her now, Yasmine was trying hard to pretend they weren’t together, but deep down, Cass knew Yasmine was loving every minute of it. The laughter she was struggling with told the real story. In a different life, without that old shadow of her year in juvenile detention hanging over her, she might have been the one belting out Donna Summer tunes into a dildo right now, and that was one of the things Cass loved about her. Yasmine had the heart of a wild child, even if she was living the life of an old lady.
Around Cass, other customers were taking notice. How could they not? Some smiled, some pretended she wasn’t there, and some bee-bopped a little themselves as they shopped. The clerk who was working the store knew Cass and therefore understood her performance wasn’t cause to call the cops.
As the song wound down and her routine came to an end, Cass replaced