Page 99 of Resorting to Romance

Noah knocks on my door while swinging it open and walking in.

“Buddy, knocking means waiting.”

“I did wait.”

Chloe chuckles like the childless woman she is. Noah entertains her infinitely—especially when he’s doing something he shouldn’t.

“Did you hear me say, ‘Come in’?”

“You were going to. I saved you the trouble.”

Chloe shakes her head. Her face is pinched with suppressed laughter. I quietly glare at her like she’s dead if she lets one puff of a laugh out right now.

“What are you doing?” Noah asks.

“Picking out clothes to wear.”

“You’re already wearing clothes.”

“This is for later.”

Noah’s face contorts in confusion.

Then, as if in slow motion, Noah walks toward my bed. I feel like I’m in one of those scenes where the person lunging for something moves in freeze frames while the background music sounds like it’s being played underwater. Everything happens too quickly and slowly at the same time. I can’t get to Noah fast enough because I’m the sluggish girl in the meme, saying “noooooo” while diving for the item he now holds up as if it’s a class project on show-and-tell day.

My shapewear.

My son has my Spanx in his hand, his fingers like little clothespins so the entirety of them is on display.

“What kind of shorts are these?” His nose scrunches. “They’re ugly. Like skin. You should definitely not wear these out to the beach.” He pauses. “Or anywhere.”

No kidding!

“They’re nothing!” I say in a squeaky voice while I snatch my tummy-tucking, modern-day girdle from my son.

“Oooh. You know what, Noah?” Chloe uses her child-charmer voice while her breath comes out in small bursts of laughter she’s trying desperately to contain. “Can you make me a snack?”

I stuff the Spanx behind my back, which only makes them seem all the more suspicious. Today just isn’t the day I need to edify my son as to what women wear to smooth out the places where we carried our children in our wombs … and the other spots on my body that bear the evidence that, yes, I do love scones, thank you very much. Not that I’m embarrassed of those places. I’m proud. But when a man like Kai asks you out for a day on the beach to get to know you better … Well, you panic. Or at least I panicked. And I needed all the reinforcement I could get. Enter: the girdle.

“Sure, Aunt Chloe,” Noah thankfully takes my bestie’s bait. “We’ve got brownies. Want one with milk?”

“You know I do.” She smiles sweetly, but there’s mirth in her eyes. It’s a dangerous look. I know I’ll be hearing about this for years to come.

Noah turns and practically flies to the kitchen. He loves serving guests. I guess it’s a byproduct of living here all these years.

Once he’s safely out of earshot, I cover my face and wail while Chloe laughs hysterically from her spot on my bed.

“My Spanx. Really?”

I look at Chloe who is now literally rolling on my bed in laughter. She’s rocking from side to side, holding her stomach.

“He’s going to need so much therapy. So. Much.” I wail again.

“Calm down,” she says between laughs. “He probably won’t even remember. Why do you have those out anyway?” She pauses to study me and then says, “Ohhhhh. For yourdate?”

“Not a date.”

I fold the Spanx and put them in my drawer. What was I thinking? This is Kai. He’s seen me at all hours, under all circumstances. Besides, it’snota date.

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