a woman, Dad. Like never ever ever, not in a million years ev—.”
“Good. No reason you should know anything about that.”
“But you like her. Don’t tell me you’re just hanging out, okay? Oh, no strings. Casual. Whatever. Don’t you dare be all cold, distant asshole, ’cause I’ll tell you that is not what you brought me up to—”
“Harper.” She stops. Thank God. “She’s the one who…” Asked me to teach her sex isn’t something I can exactly say to my daughter. I go with, “Requested a casual thing.”
She blinks and turns to look back through the big glass window, obviously offended. “Seriously?” My feisty daughter. Mad at me one second, mad for me the next. We were a mess when she was little, her mom and I, falling apart at the seams, but we must have done something right, because I admire this little woman, so damn much.
I shake my head with a smile and lean in. “You don’t have to tell me she’s special. Okay, kiddo? I know that.”
Her eyes go big. “So, you like her.”
I smile and squint, trying to see inside. There’s nothing but shadows, except for a splash of red and yellow that has got to be today’s sweater. “I do. I like her.”
Harper inhales, clearly satisfied. She hands me my muffin—which I don’t remember giving her—and nudges my arm. “Go do your thing at the bank.”
“You don’t want to—”
“I want to go in there and get the other side of the story.”
“You said you didn’t—”
“Go!” She nudges me away.
I should be worried about what’s going to be shared, but what I am is jealous.
Some weird proprietary urge makes me take out my phone and send Jerusha a text.
Sorry I ran out.
I understand. It was a lot.
Those dots appear, telling me she’s got more to say. I wait, anxious.
When’s lesson 2?
Relief floods me.
It occurs to me that I should probably be teaching her how to play hard to get. Give her insight into all the rules and the games people play to torture each other. The hellish misery of going out with people in the modern world.
Ignoring all that, I respond with what I actually want.
Tonight?
I’d like that. What’s Lesson 2?
My mind races.
Heavy petting. But isn’t this lesson 3?
Let’s see. Kissing, dirty talk, heavy petting. You’re right! My place at 6?
Sure.
I can’t wait.
I slide my phone into my pocket, trying to concentrate on my upcoming meeting with the bank.
After less than a minute, I pull it out again.
Me neither, I type out, grinning wide.
12
Scenario
Jerusha
Heavy petting. What is that? What have I just agreed to? I look up, smile still plastered on my face, wondering if I’ve got time to look it up before going back to the table.
It takes a sec for me to realize that Mikey, Alba, and Harper are all staring from our corner table. “What?”
“Is my dad texting you?”
I open my mouth and shut it. Mikey rolls their eyes and smacks Harper on the hand. “Don’t make me regret letting you sit at our table.”
“It’s fine,” I say, though I’d really been looking forward to some time alone with my friends. There’s a lot to talk about.
I settle in my seat, facing the room. We love this table with its semi-private feel, even when the place is packed. My friends and I have spilled a lot of secrets in this spot. At least they have. I mostly listen. I have a feeling that’s about to change.
“Sure?” Harper asks. “I can go.”
“No. No, it’s truly fine.”
“Good.” She smiles. “Because my dad really likes you.”
My face goes up in flames and, rather than stammer out something silly, I take a too-big sip of scalding tea.
Once I’m done coughing, they lean in. “Is this Hot Neighbor?” Mikey asks. “Did you finally ask him out?”
I glance at Harper. “I mean, not in so many words, but…”
“Hot neighbor is a big ole Daddy,” sings Alba.
My insides go wild at that word.
“Hey! That’s my father you’re—”
Mikey exchanges a look with Alba and then turns to Harper with their signature get with it expression. Harper shuts her mouth. “Your father is hot fucking stuff, Harper.” Mikey smiles and the expression’s pure delight. “Shoulda known, though. You’re tall and gorgeous. Got hot genes.”
Harper rolls her eyes and looks away.
“You are hot. You know that, right?” Mikey laughs. “Hell, I’d date you if you were my age.”
Harper’s quick to recover. “Oh, ahem.” Her eyes flick to me and back to Mikey. “However old you are, Mikey, I’m guessing we’re closer in age