Page 56 of The Art of Being Merry
It was easy to stay focused on the boys as infants and toddlers rather than my sexual pleasure, but now that they don’t need me twenty-four/seven, this mama could use a little loving. Self-pleasure only goes so far.
I catch myself from going deeper down this rabbit hole with my children at the table. Instead, I tune in to the conversation.
“When can we go sledding?” Atlas wonders, though I’m uncertain whether he’s asking me or Dax.
“First, we need more snow, but as soon as it does, we’ll make it happen. There’s a fun sledding hill in town if you want to go with your friends, but if you want the best place to go, stick with me.”
“Can’t we do both?” Atlas shrugs, angling for it and working his magic on Dax. After what he proposed earlier about helping with the boys, I’ll permit it.
Dax leans across the table, crooking a finger for the boys to join him. “Of course. It’s the best of both worlds.” He makes a big show of keeping his voice quiet for the boys, but they’re so invested, they don’t realize I overhear. “You’ve got snow pants, right?”
Both of my children’s gazes swing my way. “Nope, but I can order them, and they’ll be here in a few days.”
“You should do it now, so you don’t forget,” Atlas advises, ever the helpful son.
“No phones at the table. As soon as we’re done with lunch, I’ll do it.”
The boys have an inaudible conversation with each other, and the next thing I know, they’re pushing from the table and clearing the plates and other dishes. They’re getting better about loading the dishwasher carefully and will leave anything that can’t go in for me to wash.
While they’re busy with the task, I lean in to Dax. “What are the odds it won’t snow before Christmas? I have it on good authority Santa is bringing them.”
“If ‘Santa’ doesn’t need credit for them, I’d say you want to bust them out before the holiday. In case. You don’t want sad kids on your conscience, do you?”
“Please. Like it’s stopped me before.”
Except this is different. I take his words to heart. I don’t need to wait until Christmas for them to be a gift, and at least I won’t have to figure out another gift since they’re both getting them. As long as I can get them to pick out the ones I already have in the closet.
“Should I supervise over there?” Dax motions to the boys in the kitchen.
“They’re pretty good. They know their limitations.”
“You’re a great mom, Clementine.”
His compliment is sincere. And even though he’s referring to how I get them to do chores, it lights me up. “Thanks. Despite everything, I’d like to think it’s the one thing I’m best at.”
17
dax
“Let’shope this isn’t one of the worst decisions I’ve ever made,” I mumble to myself as I navigate toward Clementine’s house. I picked up Merry Mintmas lattes at the cafe and purposefully avoided driving by the shop. I should at least text Meredith I’ll be late. Would be the decent thing to do. She might not ask why I’m late—been there, done that—but she’ll ask what time I’m coming in, for which I don’t have an answer.
Best case: a few hours.
Worst case: fifteen minutes.
I hope it’s not the worst case, but I can’t predict how she’ll react to my unexpected arrival at her doorstep. Because the cup of coffee is my in for more.
I haven’t been able to eradicate her “what I’m really in need of is an orgasm provided by someone else” from my head. While not convinced she was completely serious, I’m not convinced she wasn’t. If it’s what she wants, I’ll happily deliver. Get it out of my system if only as a service to her.
Come to think of it, there was no talk of the other person also having an orgasm, something I’m only considering now as I pull into her driveway, killing the engine behind her van.
Am I prepared to give and not receive if she doesn’t immediately kick me out?
As I’m contemplating my next move, she steps onto the porch,her hair tangled in a messy bun on the top of her head. I’m too far away to notice if she’s wearing makeup or not, but I can’t miss the bewildered expression on her face.
Too late to back down now.
I shoot a quick text to Meredith, pocketing my phone to check for messages later. I grab the two cups of coffee and make my way out of the truck and up the walkway.
