“You pushed me into the table!”
“ButIdidn’t break the vase!”
But he’s right…even if we’d only known each other a handful of minutes, Greg’s right. I do love the bastard. I just don’t wanna admit it. And there’s about a million things I wouldn’t be doing if it wasn’t the absolute truth. I wouldn’t be constantly checking my phone to see if he’s cracked and texted me. I wouldn’t still be hopeful every time I unlock my door that he’s in my house making some sort of food. I wouldn’t be playing the same Aerosmith song on repeat, wishing it was in a voice that sings so off-key it’s actually pathetic.
I wouldn’t have given up my special coffee milkshake for a strawberry one I don’t even like.
“It doesn’t matter. It’s over. I can’t move on if nobody will let me. However long it takes me to do that is my own journey, Greg. I’ve been through a lot, okay? Now you know the skinny on it. Just respect me enough to keep it to yourself and let me figure out my own shit…please?”
Greg crossed the room and flicked my nose, smiling sadly.
“Yeah, alright. But I’ll say it again, just in case you don’t hear me every time it comes outta my mouth. I’m here. You don’t have to wear yourself out fighting the battle all alone. Now you’ve got at least one person to rage at. Use me. Okay?”
I nodded in defeat.
“Okay.”
It’s been almost three weeks since our chat downstairs, and Greg hasn’t bothered me about any of it anymore. I’ve been better about adjusting my attitude, sitting down at the table with my family, and focusing on the shit in myowntoilet…not everyone else’s. I’m fixing it. Slowly, but surely.
Emmy took home first place at her competition, to nobody’s shock or surprise, and I’m still not sorry for getting in that twat’s face. She’s starting to try and sneak in the basement more often, too…and I’ve talked Maggie into letting her embrace being herself and not feeling some type of way about it. She’ll be able to bend over backwards and do handstandswhilegiving a deserving patron a fine farewell. There’s a little more to be happy about every day lately.
But he’s still on my mind when it’s quiet.
I was sterilizing tools and cleaning up for the day when Greg popped into the basement with a bag of chocolate almonds from my favorite candy store and a clipboard. “Hell has an ice rink, and I just saw a very healthy bird that smelled strangely of bacon.”
I chuckled under my breath. “You’re so fucking cringe.”
“I know you love me more than you let on. That’s why you’re gonna be the most amazing sister in the world and let me escape for a three-day smash session with my smokin’ hot wife—with no kids.”
“She got the PTO?” Greg nodded fast enough for his head to snap off and bounced impatiently on his heels, handing me the candy and the paperwork. “What is this?”
“Casket orders for the next few days. I signed off on ‘em, I just need you to close these at delivery. Please, I need this so bad.”
I took the board from his hand and raised the bag in front of his face. “This the going rate for shamelessly layin’ the pipe on Mags?”
“Seven,please!”
I smiled and winked, shoving the almonds into the pocket of my lab coat. I would have done it for nothing, but the secrets he’s keeping for me…this is the least I can do. “Get outta here. Go make me another niece. Or a nephew. I’m not picky.” He grabbed me, pressing an obnoxious kiss to my cheek and giggled like a hyena all the way up the stairs. My smile faded when I thought about the fact that…I’m okay with not ever having that life. It’s just…
It would just be really nice…
I ate dinner alone tonight, watching reality TV in my coffin and vegging out, when I spotted something in the corner of the living room. I’d put Bridget’s air mattress away months ago, and I don’t know how I missed it. I slipped out of the coffin and bent down to pick it up—it’s that damn smutty book. I flipped it open to the page that was marked and knotted my brows when I saw two stick figures in a very compromising position in the top corner of the page. I flipped to the next page…more stick figures.
“You absolutely ridiculous fool…” Malek made a whole stick figure porn in here. It animated when I swiped my thumb down the edge of the book. A guy boinking a girl from behind…and slapping her ass. I burst out laughing. “What a pig.”
Sue me for pulling the Girthmaster out and finally using it. I wondered the entire time if he still thinks about me when he gets off. What if he’s moved on? What if they both took off to Ireland? It’s like they vanished, but it sure doesn’t feel like they never existed. My pussy agrees. I haven’t slept this hard in almost three months.
It’s busy this morning. I’ve got two in here today, and they’re both having viewings at the end of the week…on the same day. I ended up prepping the metal table so I could work on them both at the same time. Dad came downstairs, which is rare,and he had a full face of play makeup and a baby doll under his arm.
“Oh my God…you look so…dashing,” I snorted.
“Can’t tell you how much I miss this. How many pedicures did you give me?” He admired his bright pink manicure and blew gently on them.
“Probly a good hundred or so. You’re outta luck now, though. I don’t do feet.”
“Know what I don’t do? Bad publicity. Greg’s delivery is upstairs. Please don’t make me go out there. I’m begging.” I snapped my gloves off, laughing and walked over to the sink.
“Why not? You look sopurty, Dad.”
