Page 59 of On My Side
Eight weeks.
Eight weeks since school started, two months of Audrey bringing me coffee, two months since Audrey and I made out. A month and nineteen days since Audrey started joining me for the last mile of my run, always with a cup of coffee for each of us. Eight weeks of surface-level conversation and eight weeks since I promised myself I wouldnotjerk off in the shower to the thought of her mouth when I got home.
Seven weeks and six days since I broke that promise.
I’m pathetic.
“So, what are you doing tonight?” Piper asks one Saturday in late October. Her tone is casual, but I’ve gotten to know this pipsqueak enough to know she’s rarely casual.
“Why?” I ask suspiciously, narrowing my eyes playfully at her.
“According to my mother, it’sGilmore Girlsseason. She makes us marathon the beginning of season one and we make homemade pizza and we hang out and even though the show sucks, it’s kind of fun.” She inhales deeply after finishing her run-on sentence.
“It sounds fun,” I tell her earnestly.
“We’ve been doing it since Aunt Liv was alive,” she continues, tapping casually at the keys. “I hate the show, but it’s Mom’s favorite.” She looks up at me suddenly, eyes widening to a comically large size. “Wait, you should come over!”
“Oh, I… I couldn’t do that,” I stammer, feeling my cheeks heat. Audrey and I have done a fantastic job at staying out of each other’s spaces and staying in neutral, public areas. The beach for our walks, the lobby of the inn… and everything between us has been surface level.
We’ve talked about our favorite colors—hers is a gray-ish lavender, mine is yellow—and our favorite and least favorite parts of our jobs. Whenever we get anywhere close to personal vulnerability, she changes the subject so quickly it gives me whiplash. Being in her home, even with Piper there, feels too real, too vulnerable.
But god, I want real and vulnerable with her.
“Why not?” Piper demands, narrowing her eyes at me. “Aren’t you and Mom friends?”
How the hell do I explain to this child that while, yes, her mother and I are friends, it’s the most painful friendship I’ve been a part of? That every part of me screams she and I are meant to be more than friends, but more than friends simply isn’t in the stars for us.
“We are…” I start to say, but Piper is waving frantically across the lobby.
“Mom!” It feels like my entire body was somehow doused in lava and ice water simultaneously. I can smell the soft strawberry and coconut wafting off her, feel the shift in energy when she’s near.
“Hey, birdie,” Audrey says. I feel like I’m intruding by watching her stroke Piper’s hair with so much care and love.
God, she’s such a good mom.
Why is that so hot?
“Hi, Mama,” Piper says, turning and wrapping her arms around Audrey’s middle. “I’ve missed you.”
My heart could melt at the sweetness, but the same cannot be said for Audrey, whose eyes narrow as she takes a step back out of her daughter’s embrace.
“What did you do?” she asks flatly.
“Nothing!” Piper insists, her voice still dripping with sweetness.
“Piper,” Audrey says sternly. “What did you do?”
Piper and I speak over one another, two trains colliding.
“Nothing wrong!” she exclaims
“She invited me to dinner and yourGilmore Girlsmarathon tonight.”
The absolute betrayal on Piper’s face almost makes me laugh.
“Oh,” Audrey says, glancing between Piper and I. “I… oh.”
“No need to sound excited,” I say teasingly. I immediately regret it when her face falls even more somehow.
