Page 35 of Bending The Rules

My mother shook her head as she looked up from where she was shaking out, and then re-folding blankets to pack into a box. “One of my girlfriends brought that over here. Her granddaughter outgrew it, and the parents needed it out to make room for her big girl bed. She didn’t have the space for it either, so I told her she could bring it over here. I was hoping I’d need it soon, for when it was time to watchmygrandbaby.”

I pulled my hand back. “Oh. Well… are you going to have room for it at the new place? Where would you put it?”

My mother sighed. “Unfortunately, I’m going to have to let it go. I’ll call my girlfriend and see if she wants it back, and if not, we’ll donate it. And we’ll just have to get a little bassinet or something when you and Russell settle down for babies.”

Guilt pricked my chest as I dropped to my knees to open another box, avoiding my mother’s eyes. “I’m sure someone will be glad to have it.”

“Yes, I’m sure they will. How is Russell doing by the way? I hated that he had to rush off like that after the signing.”

I smiled at the neatly folded clothes in the box, then used the marker in my pocket to write “Toni’s Old Clothes – Preteen” on the side. “Uh, he’s doing fine.” Or at least, he had been when I saw him last night, after leaving the store. I was still riding the high of being around Justin for hours – lunch, and then at the bookstore – so when I found Russell waiting for me in the hotel lobby, I actually decided to be nice.

“Being nice” had led to drinks at the hotel bar, which led to him being allowed into my suite. Apparently, he and I had different ideas of what that would entail. I thought he was coming to talk.Hethought he was coming to… ejaculate.

There hadn’t always been a huge difference between the two.

As much as Ilovedsex, it required an emotional connection for me. Not that I didn’t still have feelings for Russell – our engagement had only been over for a few months – but the strongest of those feelings were disillusionment and disdain. And contrary to one of my favorite romance tropes… I couldn’t have sex with someone I hated.

Not that Ihatedhim.

But still.

For me, sex with him just wasn’t in the plans.

After that, it was a little too awkward to do much talking. He left, I went to bed alone, and instead of thinking about the future of my relationship withhim… my thoughts went to Justin.

Hadhegone to bed alone?

We were still pretty disconnected as friends, but if he was dating someone, certainly it would have come up. And Justin wasn’t really into casual sex – or at least hadn’t been – so I didn’t think he was sleeping with anyone either.

The question I should have asked myself was… why was I inmybed, thinking about whatJustinwas doing inhisbed?

Because you wanted to be inhisbed, fool.

I shook my head as I moved to the next box. What I didn’t want was my brain moving in that direction again.

“Did you hear what I said Toni?” my mother asked, and I looked up from the box of CDs.

“No, I’m sorry. What was it?”

“I was telling you it’s time to go. I promised your father dinner at Sammy’s, and then we’re going over to spend the night at the new place. I need to go by the store, then wash up and get ready.”

I frowned. “I’ve barely been helping for an hour though. I was expecting to make a dent today.”

“Well, just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean you have to. You still have keys, right?”

“Of course,” I smiled. “On the same silver heart keychain you gave them to me on.”

“That’s my girl,” she said, approaching to give me a hug. “So if you want to stay and keep packing, by all means, do it. Most of this stuff is yours from your room anyway.”

“You mean those B2K CDs aren’t yours?”

Mama laughed, shaking her head as she moved to the steps that led down from the attic. “No, my dear. G-Booger isallyours.”

“J-Boog, mama, daaaang,” I teased back as she left. I wondered if the posters and magazine articles that documented my one-sided, teenaged love affair with my favorite boy-band member were up here somewhere. And not just the ones I’d safely been able to plaster on my walls – the shirtless ones I kept folded in a box under my bed, along with the pictures of the man I was cheating on him with –C-Murder.

“What the hell was up with me and the alphabetical names?” I mused aloud as I propped my hands on my hips and looked around, wondering which of the mountain of boxes might hold those adolescent memories. Randomly, I started picking boxes, opening them and using my marker to label them with the contents. Most of the things could be given away.

I grinned when I came across a box of letters from Justin, and wondered if he still had the ones I’d sent him. Three summers’ worth of correspondence while I was away with my mother, on her yearly trip to Florida to spend a month with her parents. This was before the age of cell phones, so it wasn’t like we could just text back and forth. All of our little allowance, or paper route, or babysitting money was used on paper, pens, and stamps, so we could keep up with each other.

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