Page 7 of Her Supermodel Stalker
My mom comes out of the kitchen, wearing an apron. “How’s your supermodel boss?”
My mouth opens. “You know about it, too?”
She nods. “Who doesn’t? It’s big news in town.”
“And you didn’t breathe a word?” I ask, frowning. “I could’ve been spared of the shock.”
“Then it would be less fun, wouldn’t it?” She says, chuckling.
“Did Susie send you a picture of me wide-eyed and drooling?” I say, rolling my eyes.
“No, but I can imagine it!” She goes on chuckling and says, “So how does he look in person? As hot as in his photos?”
I frown. “For God’s sake, Mom!”
“What?” my mom laughs. “You think just because I’m your mom, I’m not interested in hot guys anymore?”
“Stop it!” I protest. “Dad wouldn’t like it.”
She stops laughing for a moment. “Well, then he shouldn’t have left me so soon.” Her voice trembles a bit.
“I’m sorry,” I hug her. “I don’t mean to upset you.”
“It’s okay,” she says with a sigh.
When we sit down at the dinner table, my mom informs me, “Tomorrow morning I’ll be picking at Jay’s Vineyard,” my mom says. “I could take Jimmy with me. They don’t mind.”
“No,” I blurt. Although it’s usual to see workers bringing young children along during grape-picking, I never feel comfortable with it, considering all the shears and scissors around. “I’ll take him.”
“Is your new boss okay with it?”
I shrug. “He doesn’t have to know. I’ll ask Jose to keep an eye on him.” Jose is the gardener at the vineyard, and he adores Jimmy. Occasionally I take Jimmy to work and let him play in the garden next to the office. There aren’t that many people around there in the mornings.
After dinner and doing the dishes, my mom watches TV, and I play the Scrabble Junior with Jimmy. The child has gotten really good at the game since he first played it just two months ago and now beats me easily within just half an hour. I’m exhausted and would like to take a bath, but seeing the child’s excitement, I don’t have the heart to leave him, so we start another game.
Jimmy is the result of unprotected sex, but I’ve never not wanted him. I went through the confusion when I found out about my pregnancy and regretted when his dad took off a month before he was born. But the moment I held his little body in my arms, I knew he was the best thing that ever happened to me.
I used to be carefree and careless. I wasn’t enthusiastic about anything, especially college, and I took everything for granted. But I changed after I had Jimmy. I’m now more responsible, and I appreciate every opportunity life presents me. I regret a bit not being able to go to college, but I focus on work to make up for my loss. Jimmy motivates me to be good at what I do. I have to plan for not just my own but my baby’s future as well. I can’t afford to be careless anymore.
At nine, I convince Jimmy it’s time to get ready for bed, although he doesn’t want to. I bathe him first and then take him to my mom’s bedroom. My mom insists Jimmy sleep in her room ever since he was a baby, so I could sleep better. I read a story to him, and then another.
“So the horde of ants carries the elephant out of the ravine, and they become friends,” I say. “The end.”
Jimmy’s eyelids look heavy, but he fights to open them and asks me a question. “How come it’s different from the one grandma told me the other day?”
“What was it?”
“The elephant’s mean to the ants. He sprays them with water, and he tries to stump them to death, but the ants bite him, and he learns his lesson.”
I’ve never heard that one, but I chuckle. “It must be a variation. Which one do you like better?”
“The one you just told,” he says, and soon falls into sleep.
I tuck his arms into the comforter and leave him. My mom is still watching TV in the living room. I say good night to her and enter my own bedroom. As soon as I get into the shower, the hot water caresses my skin and brings me immense satisfaction. Devin has been in my mind all day and all evening, despite my attempt to push him away. Now he surfaces completely. Oh, God. His lips. His touch.
I remember distinctively how it happened, although I still have trouble believing it. It feels like a fantasy I’ve had for him over the years. I can’t tell. But it feels so real.
When I close my eyes, I can see his intense blue eyes boring into mine, and I recall his spicy, minty breath. I’ve never gotten so close to him in my fantasies, not to mention feeling his velvety, warm lips on mine. He tastes so good! Tension builds up in my core, and I rub my aching point until a warm current rushes right through me.
