to recover her voice but not before I continued, “Wait, that sounded really dumb. I think I’m drunk! Okay, what I meant was this guy and I text and, well, it’s pretty hot texting, if you know what I mean.”
Clearing her throat, Tina barked, “What the fuck are you talking about, Mags? No, I don’t know what you mean. This sounds really creepy, seriously.” She’d put on her professional hat and was looking at me like I was a victim of some horrific crime.
“Tina, chill, Christ. You haven’t even heard the full story.”
I was beginning to regret bringing it up, when she said, “Look, Mags, I know it’s been rough for you, which makes you vulnerable. I see so much shit, terrible shit, Mags. I care about you, I just want you to be careful.”
She meant every word, I could tell. But Tina didn’t have the full story, and I tried to convince her that this guy was actually a good one. Making my case, I said, “First, he doesn’t live here, not even close. He lives in Atlanta. Or at least somewhere within that area code.”
“Jesus-fucking-Christ, Mags, seriously?” I didn’t like where this conversation was going and needed to put an end to it. But Tina went on, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, chica, really. I see this kind of thing all the time and the women always get hurt. Physically, emotionally and financially. You’ve got to put a stop to it, okay?”
Knowing there was no getting through to her, I said, “Yeah, you’re right. We don’t text that much anymore, anyway. It was just a dumb fling. Please don’t worry. Plus, I’m dating a guy from high school, if you can believe that.”
Subject closed, lesson learned.
I told Tina about running into Brett but concocted a story that convinced her that we’d been dating for a few weeks, which made it easy for me to dump “ATL,” a name she quickly ascribed to Daniel. I couldn’t help feeling deflated after our lunch.
In some ways, I was closer to Tina than Katie. We traded details of our lives I couldn’t imagine sharing with my sister. Like the time I had a three-way in college (two girls and a boy), or the time she fucked a guy in her car while she was on break from her waitress job during law school; she hadn’t yet come out at work and was trying to fit in.
Were my trysts with Daniel dangerous? Had I gone too far? I’d learned to trust my gut over the years, and my gut was not warning me of danger. Ironically, it was urging me to take it up a notch. I was tired of questioning myself, and I just wanted to go home, shower and see if Daniel was available for some hardcore sexting.
Having had a few too many, I walked around the neighborhood after we left. I loved to walk and, luckily, was wearing comfortable shoes. Ten minutes later, I hit the Cherry Creek Path, an outdoor hot spot Jack and I used to walk and bike. Thinking back, I realized I hadn’t been on it since he’d died. The wide, concrete swath was packed, and I enjoyed watching people fly by on bikes and inline skates. I lingered on a young couple strolling along, soaking in the brilliant Colorado sun; regret welling remembering how we used to promise each other we’d spend more quality time together.
By the time I got back to the restaurant parking lot, the sun had started to set. The sky over the mountains was brushed with hues of pink and orange, and the few clouds above were rimmed with gold. “Spectacular sunset, Jack. I miss you.” I whispered to myself.
I jumped into Beater and headed home. It was five-thirty and I couldn’t imagine where the afternoon had gone. I stopped by the market for a spinach salad and some fresh fruit. Cody greeted me with gusto, partially because he thought I was just that cool; more because he was hungry.
I poured a cup of long-awaited kibble into his dish and scratched his head, “Here you go, buddy, bon appétit!”
Stripping off my clothes on the way to the bathroom, I was ready for a good rinse. I started with my hair,
Clearing her throat, Tina barked, “What the fuck are you talking about, Mags? No, I don’t know what you mean. This sounds really creepy, seriously.” She’d put on her professional hat and was looking at me like I was a victim of some horrific crime.
“Tina, chill, Christ. You haven’t even heard the full story.”
I was beginning to regret bringing it up, when she said, “Look, Mags, I know it’s been rough for you, which makes you vulnerable. I see so much shit, terrible shit, Mags. I care about you, I just want you to be careful.”
She meant every word, I could tell. But Tina didn’t have the full story, and I tried to convince her that this guy was actually a good one. Making my case, I said, “First, he doesn’t live here, not even close. He lives in Atlanta. Or at least somewhere within that area code.”
“Jesus-fucking-Christ, Mags, seriously?” I didn’t like where this conversation was going and needed to put an end to it. But Tina went on, “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, chica, really. I see this kind of thing all the time and the women always get hurt. Physically, emotionally and financially. You’ve got to put a stop to it, okay?”
Knowing there was no getting through to her, I said, “Yeah, you’re right. We don’t text that much anymore, anyway. It was just a dumb fling. Please don’t worry. Plus, I’m dating a guy from high school, if you can believe that.”
Subject closed, lesson learned.
I told Tina about running into Brett but concocted a story that convinced her that we’d been dating for a few weeks, which made it easy for me to dump “ATL,” a name she quickly ascribed to Daniel. I couldn’t help feeling deflated after our lunch.
In some ways, I was closer to Tina than Katie. We traded details of our lives I couldn’t imagine sharing with my sister. Like the time I had a three-way in college (two girls and a boy), or the time she fucked a guy in her car while she was on break from her waitress job during law school; she hadn’t yet come out at work and was trying to fit in.
Were my trysts with Daniel dangerous? Had I gone too far? I’d learned to trust my gut over the years, and my gut was not warning me of danger. Ironically, it was urging me to take it up a notch. I was tired of questioning myself, and I just wanted to go home, shower and see if Daniel was available for some hardcore sexting.
Having had a few too many, I walked around the neighborhood after we left. I loved to walk and, luckily, was wearing comfortable shoes. Ten minutes later, I hit the Cherry Creek Path, an outdoor hot spot Jack and I used to walk and bike. Thinking back, I realized I hadn’t been on it since he’d died. The wide, concrete swath was packed, and I enjoyed watching people fly by on bikes and inline skates. I lingered on a young couple strolling along, soaking in the brilliant Colorado sun; regret welling remembering how we used to promise each other we’d spend more quality time together.
By the time I got back to the restaurant parking lot, the sun had started to set. The sky over the mountains was brushed with hues of pink and orange, and the few clouds above were rimmed with gold. “Spectacular sunset, Jack. I miss you.” I whispered to myself.
I jumped into Beater and headed home. It was five-thirty and I couldn’t imagine where the afternoon had gone. I stopped by the market for a spinach salad and some fresh fruit. Cody greeted me with gusto, partially because he thought I was just that cool; more because he was hungry.
I poured a cup of long-awaited kibble into his dish and scratched his head, “Here you go, buddy, bon appétit!”
Stripping off my clothes on the way to the bathroom, I was ready for a good rinse. I started with my hair,
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