Page 8 of Irish Daddies
“That’s just because Jimmy isn’t here,” I deadpan, and then pretend to shudder at the memory of the little tyrant.
She doesn’t take the bait, prodding me, “Admit it. Mystery Man has you curious.”
“He isn’t a mystery man, exactly,” I mutter. “He’s in insurance.”
Alaina flicks a lazy finger my direction. “Well, now, that’s just rude.”
I blow on my tea, trying not to smile. “I’m just saying…this is my life. Hanging out with my kids. Hanging out with you. It’s what I know best. I’ve been doing this alone with them for four years now. What would it evenlooklike to introduce a man into it all?” I set my drink in my lap, letting my thighs squeeze it in place, and gesture to the kids, the ailing house.
She taps a finger against her cup. “You could find out.”
“What if it’s bad?” The words slip out, softer than I intended, a little push that might end up in a landslide of truth and emotion.What if it’s not just bad? What if it’s catastrophic?
Alaina softens immediately. She doesn’t brush past the fear. She lets me hold on to it for a second. She folds her lips in, looks behind her at the kids in the yard, now holding hands and jumping. One of her hands slips into the back pocket of her jeans, and she looks back at me again. “What if it’s good? What if he loves kids and he’s handy and he brings you flowers?” As she sayshandy, she gestures to a falling gutter hanging by a thread from my roof.
I don’t say anything. I pull my knees up to my chin, hold the mug on the hilltop of my knees, and look down into it like I’m reading tea leaves.
Alaina adds quietly, “Plus, it’s been a long time. Your vibrator has to be begging for a break by now.”
“You’re disgusting.” I kick lightly at her shin with the toe of my sneaker.
She snickers into her cup. “Poor thing has been in the workforce since infancy.”
“What is wrong with you?” I laugh, finally giving in to her ridiculousness.
“I just want to see you happy,” she says, her voice more serious now. “Kids do best when their parents are happy. And you’re all they’ve got, so that’sallyou, my friend.”
I bite my lip. It sounds so easy when she says it. So black-and-white. But life hasn’t been that black-and-white for a long time.
“Easy for you to say. It’s all well and good to spread that rhetoric when you’ve been happily married since freshman year of college.”
She holds up her hands in mock surrender. “Rhetoric is a strong word.”
I smile in spite of myself, settling my chin onto my knee. “Yeah, I guess it is. It’s just a simplistic worldview is all.”
“How’s this for simplistic? You should take advice from people whose lives you envy.” She sips her tea. “For what it’s worth, my vibrator leads a pampered, spoiled life. It rests in my bedside drawer most of the time and only comes out for special occasions.”
“Oh my God,what is your obsession with vibrators?” I groan, laughing despite myself.
“What’s yours?” she fires back immediately, waggling her eyebrows.
“Enough already!” I kick my feet exaggeratedly at her, like I’m trying to take her out, and she avoids me with the easeof someone who grew up with seven siblings. “Besides, there’s nothing to eventalkabout if he doesn’t call me.”
“He will,” she says confidently.
“What makes you so sure?”
Alaina leans forward, her voice dropping into something soft and a little bit mischievous. “I have a feeling.”
I roll my eyes so hard they practically creak. “Oh, great. A feeling.”
“Don’t knock my intuition, Caroline. It’s very well maintained.”
“Like your vagina?” I shoot back.
Her face lights up in smug delight. “Exactly. Like my vagina.”
We dissolve into giggles, the tension finally breaking, the porch spinning with the easy, stupid kind of laughter that only comes when someone knows you to the bone.
