Page 24 of Five
He tips his chin down and eyes me from beneath his brows as he takes a bite of his meal. “There’s my brother, Oscar; we call him Oz. Remi, whom you just saw. Jesse, our buddy who’s on inactive duty with the Navy and working at the turtle rescue in the interim. And then there’s Cope, our resident himbo.”
Five.There are five of them. I push that idea aside, so my brain doesn’t melt.
“Himbo?”
“He’s a goober. Loves the ladies. He needs to find The One, you know.” Oliver pauses, looks at me intently. “We all do.”
This is it, my mind shouts. The reason he’s interested in polyamory. How does this even work? Would I be involved with all of them? Individually…at the same time?
There are five of them.
“Neve? You’re quiet.”
“I—” I push my plate away and sit up a little straighter.
Just ask.
“There’s a lot to think about,” I say. “Full transparency. I was very curious about the whole polyamory thing because I had a friend in college who dated and then married three terrific guys. I never could decide if I was jealous or scandalized or just really, really horny.” Oliver laughs. “But I know less than nothing about it. How does this work, exactly? Is this something you and your friends have done before?”
He runs a hand around the back of his neck. “Well, I’d really hoped to get to know you, individually, before we go there. But not in any great depth, no. A few of us have dated the same girl. Some of us have definitely had group sex. Our interest in a poly relationship is more influenced by the fact that we simply share everything. We are a family. We’re bonded by things I won’t go into right now, things beyond the norm. I don’t think any of us can imagine choosing a separate family and living away from each other.”
“Oh. That kind of loyalty is really…kind of inspired,” I finally say.
I sip my beer, thinking. The phone beeps, drawing my attention, and a notification from another parent slides across the top of the screen. She would like her bill prorated for the month, as she doesn’t plan on bringing Little Johnny back for the remainder of the week.
“Da—rn it—” I stop myself, which tickles Oliver. “Sorry. Trying to cut back.” I wave at my mouth as if that explains everything.
“Is everything okay?” he asks.
“Um…not really.” I give him a brief explanation of the break-in and the aftermath. “So, I need to go now, so I can deal with this. “
“Listen—” he stops me. “I really enjoyed talking with you, Neve. I’d like to take you out, maybe see if the chemistry I’m feeling is there in person.”
“Really?” I look at him doubtfully. “You mean my purple hair and pickles and generally weird life doesn’t make you want to run for the hills?”
He laughs. “Not one bit. Will you let me take you for dinner?”
I watch him as I think about it. There’s a fascinating little scar on his forehead, and his fingers, as he waits for my answer, tap at the table in front of him. His eyes are faintly weary, but overall kind.
And he’s James Hunt. I’m being an idiot.
Yes, I decide. “I’d like that,” I tell him.
“Great. I’ll send you the details for one night this week?”
“I’ll look forward to it.”
I disconnect and turn to answering a sudden influx of parent messages. At least I have something to look forward to.
Mood:Annoyed-on-the-way-to-Pissed
I’m frazzled as I arrive at work several days later. The calls and texts have been virtually non-stop, many of them simply an ongoing conversation between parents who are unsettled and unhappy about the daycare being broken into.
On the one hand, I get it. I’d be worried and unsettled, too. Iamworried and unsettled.
On the other hand, though, I’m also really tired and frustrated of being made the bad guy in this situation. It’s not my fault someone decided to take a stroll around the building one evening and check out the kids’ artwork.
But at least there’s Oliver and our upcoming date to think about. That’s the one bright spot. We’ve been chatting non-stop since our first tentative forays, and I like him.
