“Yep. And it’s no problem. What day are you taking your car in?”
“Wednesday is the appointment, but if a different day works better, just let me know. I appreciate this so much.”
“It’s no big deal, Elaine, seriously. And Wednesday is fine. I’ll pick you up at 7:30 so that leaves plenty of time to stop for your morning dose of caffeine.”
“Simon Walker, you’re the best.” I smile brightly as he salutes in my direction and heads back to work.
IT WAS A GOOD MONDAYat work, but it was still a Monday, so I’m glad to be home on my comfy couch, wrapped in a warm blanket, and cuddling Jimmy, my one-eyed cat.
That sounds so much more pathetic than it feels.
Maybe it’s because I have a really great couch. Seriously, it’s like sitting on a cloud. I found it at an estate sale and reupholstered it. That’s kind of my thing. Most of the furniture in my house has been refinished or repurposed in some way, and I’m not trying to brag or anything, but I’m damn near magical with a sander and can of chalk paint.
Logan, my ex-husband, and the man Molly unaffectionately refers to as LD (and not because his given name is Logan DeMarco, but because he’s far from well-endowed), was not a fan of my crafting prowess. I was not a fan of his cheating ways. Or his little dick.
So, after the divorce, I left our sprawling home in an affluent neighborhood and bought this Cape Cod on a tree-lined street, where most of my neighbors are over the age of 65 and near-sighted enough to ignore my slightly overgrown grass.
That first year after my divorce was rough, and not because I missed him. I didn’t. But misery is an easy thing to get used to, and sometimes a difficult thing to shed. So, I poured myself—and a a chunk of my savings—into remodeling and restoring my house.
As I sit by the fire, I admire my handiwork. It’s taken nearly three years, but I’m almost done. Just one guest room and a powder room to go. And then maybe I’ll tackle the basement…
But tonight, the only thing I have to tackle is tapping out a text to my brother. He’s an investor and his schedule is insane, so I try to text once a week to keep in touch. And that should take all of three minutes. After that, I’ll resume my spot on the couch and start a new book. Not bad for a Monday.
“HEY, MA!” I CALL,as I open the door and head upstairs. My parents’ split level still looks the same as it did when I was in high school. The walls are lined with pictures of my sisters and me. The same ugly ass brown couch still sits in the corner of the family room and is flanked by burgundy recliners. I walk into the kitchen to find it empty, and I spot my mom and my nana out on the deck, drinking tea and soaking up the last warm weather of fall.
“Simon! Sweetie, we’ve missed you. You haven’t been over in ages.” In reality, it’s been about three days, but I’m not about to correct my mom. She squeezes me in a hug and plants a kiss on my cheek. “I’m so glad you came. And don’t forget to run up to your old room and get the boxes on your bed.” I nod and make a note of it. My mom is turning my room into a quilting workshop, and apparently, my Star Wars memorabilia just doesn’t go with that theme. I get another hug before she heads toward the sliding glass doors. “I’ll get you a drink while you two catch up.” She bustles in the house, and I turn to my nana for another round of hugs and kisses.
“Hey, Nan.” I sit in the chair next to hers and look out at the neighborhood. It’s late October, but it’s been warm this week, so there are kids playing on swing sets, and people walking dogs. I loved my time in DC, and yeah, I miss my friends and the all-hours access to Thai food, but I’m happy to be back home.
“Simon, love, it’s good to see you. And don’t pay any attention to your mother’s nagging. You were here for your birthday dinner on Friday night. Why a handsome boy like you didn’t have plans on a Friday night isn’t any of my business, but it was nice to see you. You’re a good boy to visit us like you do.”
“What can I say, Nan? Yeah, last Friday, I could have gone out with a whole harem of women, but I came here. Who can blame me? There was cake.” I shrug my shoulders and smile. Nana’s a sucker for my dimple.
“My coconut cake is legendary. But you know what you could do? You could come for a visit and bring your lady friend over to meet us. Or, like you said, the whole harem. I’ll make cupcakes. They’re better for a crowd.”
At the mere mention of “lady friend,” my mom rounds the corner with a tray of drinks and snacks, and my dad pops out from his spot in the family room.
“Lady friend?” My mother practically squeals.
My dad steps on to the deck with uncharacteristic speed. Like me, he’s tall and slim. We differ by about thirty years, and the fact that he’s completely bald, while my head is full of sandy brown curls. I got those, and my dimple, from my mom. My dad crosses over to me, and he’s slightly out of breath. He must have vaulted off his recliner in his haste to hear about my “lady friend.” There’s a mix of delight and panic on his face. “You’re bringing a lady friend over? Tonight? Why didn’t you tell me? I would have made my salmon. Sandy, you should have told me. People love my salmon.”
“Uh, yeah, Dad, I’m not—”
“It’s the girl from your office, isn’t it? Lorraine?”
“Her name’s Elaine, mom, and she’s a woman, an adult.”
“Well, of course, she’s a woman. That’s why I said girl.” She rolls her eyes at me like I’m the nutty one.
“Now, Sandra, don’t be so closed-minded.” Nana scolds. “Fran Hendricks’s grandson is dating a man, and they’re very happy together. And June’s grandson Jacob is now a woman named Ashley. These young people are making all of their own rules, and I say, go for it!”
“You’re right, Nan. Simon, you know you can bring a boy home. And, if he wants to wear a dress or you want to wear a dress, or whatever, you know we’d never judge. We just want you to be happy, dear. That’s all we want for you and your sisters.”
I look around to see if I’m being punk’d. I’m half-convinced Nick, Gavin, and Dunc are filming this shitshow.
“Guys, there’s no one. No one is coming over for dinner.”
“Well, why not?” My dad demands.
