much of her life, the entirety of her adult life, had been spent first on survival, then caring for and focusing on others. It had never been a problem until she met the women of the HHMC. It still wasn’t a problem, she loved her siblings and cherished the opportunity to provide them with a childhood she’d never had, but meeting women like Holly, Shell, and Toni had shown her something was missing from her life.
An identity.
Part of her resented them for it. Before them, she’d been ignorant of what her life lacked. Now it was at the forefront of her mind at least ten times daily. Until Emmie turned eighteen, she needed to keep the focus on her family, not turn it inward. She shouldn’t even be having these selfish thoughts.
She walked into her bedroom and let out a sigh.
Now what? So far, she’d eaten some leftovers, opened all the windows to let in the incredible crisp evening air, and had tried to find something to watch on Netflix, but hadn’t been able to settle on anything. She should have asked the girls at work for a recommendation.
As her gaze scanned the room, she wondered if she might as well go to bed and catch up on years’ worth of neglected sleep. Again, it felt like a waste. She paused, zeroing in on the shabby nightstand next to her bed.
Hmm…
Maybe tonight, only tonight, she could indulge in something just for her. Something completely selfish. Something she’d been way too timid to test out while the kids were sleeping one thin wall away.
With a shaky hand, she opened the drawer and peered down at the hot pink vibrator as though it would spring out and bite her. It had been a present from Kristy, of course. The wind blew, wafting her curtains, and Makenna slammed the drawer shut with a yelp.
Shit! What the hell was wrong with her, acting like a teenage boy caught with his mom’s lingerie catalog?
“I’m gonna need some wine for this,” she muttered, as she stalked back out of the room. In the kitchen, she poured herself a third of a glass full of Pino Grigio then gulped it down in three large swallows. Wincing at the tart bite, she refilled it with twice as much wine.
“Blech. Now I know why you’re supposed to sip wine instead of chugging it. Too much.” She headed back out toward her room, glass in hand. “And I’m already talking to myself like a crazy person.”
But she wasn’t used to the silence, and it made her a little nutty.
This time, she sat on the side of the bed, legs near the night table. One day she hoped to be able to get a headboard and better quality bedding; create a bit of a comforting oasis for herself. For now, she got by with a mattress and box spring stacked on a rickety metal frame and a hideous brown and orange comforter she’d found on clearance for under twenty bucks. Some things she couldn’t buy at the thrift store and a comforter was one of them—a result of the time the community had been overrun with bedbugs.
She shivered, just thinking about it. It’d been horrifying.
After another sip—fine, a huge gulp—of wine, she’d worked up the courage to open the drawer again. Kristy had received it as some sort of promotional item at work and “already had like six,” so she’d gifted it to Makenna as though she handled vibrators every day.
Maybe she did.
How nice for her.
This was Makenna’s first vibrator, and she had no idea what the hell to do with it. Well, she knew what to do with it in a textbook sense, but that was about it. There’d been a few instances where she’d touched herself over the years, but living in tiny houses with lots of siblings never made it practical. And before leaving the community, it hadn’t been an option.
Guess it was high time she introduced herself to the supposed wonders of a vibrator. Or, “a girl’s best friend,” as Kristy had called it.
She plucked the thing out of the drawer and held it up at eye level. Seemed simple enough, a relatively slender cylindrical shaped rod with a slight curve to a tapered end. Smooth, pink, and—she pushed the center of three buttons on the base, bringing the thing to life—yikes, powerful.
Mak depressed the little minus button a few times. Maybe a lower setting to start. As the vibrator buzzed and whirred against her palm, she