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“I don’t have any. Do you or Josie?”
“We’re still introducing new foods every couple of days, but she hasn’t had anything to cause a reaction, thankfully. And I also don’t have any food allergies either. Now, cats… highly allergic.”
She looks genuinely sad, so Itry to comfort her. “I’m more of a dog gal, if I do say so myself, but since being in school and leaving home, I haven’t ventured out to getting any animals yet.” I look down at my twiddling fingers. “But yes, I can run to the store real quick. Let me know if you need anything else while I’m out.”
She murmurs, “Thank you,” with the most genuine look on her face. I want to know the last time Tatum had someone do anything for her.
And on that note, I grab all the things I need and head to the store, on a mission to make her one of the best dinners she’s had. Plus, her not having to cook for herself has to be a weight off her shoulders that I can’t even fathom. Being a single mom looks like a hell I’m not equipped to handle, but from what I’ve seen, she does it with grace.
Even the best need a break.
And that’s exactly what I want to give her this weekend.
TWELVE
CHORES THAT BORE
TATUM
Out the door she goes, lime-green crossbody bag and all.
The app on my phone plays the video feed of her pulling out of the driveway in her tiny car before she’s out of sight. A small sense of anxiety bubbles in my chest, but I swallow it down. I have no reason to be anxious, but at the same time, I’m literally never alone in this house.
While Josie is away, I have plenty of content that I need to edit and upload, memberships to approve, harassing emails to delete, and users to block. Some days, I consider hiring out for adminwork, but it’s hard to know who you can trust. Plus, I kind of like getting lost in the mindlessness of admin work. Being a sex worker isn’t for the weak, and protecting yourself as a woman is for the even tougher.
I’m not sure how long I sit at my desk, scrubbing audios. Between the sound of the air conditioning kicking on, weird noises I make mid-orgasm, and clipping out the awkward readjustments, I’m nearly spent. Conveniently, my phone chimes the little tune letting me know there’s motion in the driveway, and now seems like the perfect time to take a break.
“Did you get everything you needed?” Lylah’s on what seems like her second, maybe third, trip in with more bags. She certainly brought home a haul, even with a smaller list, and I can’t help but be curious.
“No peeking!” Her pep startles me away from the cloth bags, and I raise my hands in defeat,slowly stepping away from the bags, and taking my place at the kitchen bar.
She takes a deep breath, seemingly to prepare herself. “I want to show you everything and yap about the haul.”
Well, fuck me.
That's cute as hell—oh, to be young and excited over groceries again.
“Of course, how dare I intrude,” I tease her.
She rolls her eyes in return and starts to scrounge around the bags to pull specific items together and lay them on the counter.
My mind wanders as she tells me about a chicken pasta dish she saw online, pointing to each fresh herb, the block of parmesan, and then…only touching the chicken breast package through a bag over her hand?
“Do you not like touching meat?” I interrupt before I can stop myself from being so rude while she’s clearly excited.
“Not one bit.” She laughs. “I still do, obviously. I did try to go vegetarian once, but unfortunately for me, I’m a big fan of chicken nuggets.”
I have to cover my mouth to hold back an obnoxious laugh ready to burst free.
Lylah continues pulling out each meal’s worth of items, explaining how she plans to prepare the dishes each ingredient belongs to. I can’t figure out if the posted job listing required cooking experience, because that definitely wasn’t one of my requirements.
“Are you hungry now, or did you already eat?” She pauses while neatly stacking and organizing her haul into the fridge.
“I haven’t. I was actually just coming to do so when you got ho-” I pause, not wanting to call this her home just yet. “When you got back.”
“Perfect, I can make us lunch, then!” Her green eyes sparkle with enthusiasm. I was worried that last night would put an awkward air between us. Then that thought was a definite possibility with the way she reacted this morning, but any worry of that is sloughing off quickly.
“Do you mind letting me know when it’s ready? I could use all the time I can get to work while Jo is away this weekend.” My mom has sent me a million and one photos of Josie making the exact same faces, photos snapped milliseconds apart each time. I welcome it, though. Her not taking a bottle for nearly six months of her life put more of a toll on my body and mind than I ever thought it would. I can’t deny how much I miss her tiny chubbycheeks, despite how desperately I needed time for myself.
