“He was. Is. It’s a classic case of meeting the right guy at the wrong time.”
“No such thing as the wrong time if he’s the right guy,” Dolly says, putting the chocolate peanut butter pies in the freezer.
“Well, I’m never going to find out, so it’s moot. Where do you want the rest of these?” I ask, hoping for a change in subject.
“That makes me sad,” Sylvie says. “Are you bummed?”
“A little, but I’ll be okay. I have a very full, busy life. A month from now it’ll be nothing but a distant, fun, sexy memory.”
“Speaking of sexy…so far, all I’ve heard is about how you’re not going to see him again. I want to know what went on between the sheets.” Dolly stares at me without blinking.
I can’t help but laugh.
“We spent very little time between any sheets,” I admit with a grin. “There was a blow job in the shower. Oral in the kitchen. Doggy style in the living room. Oh, and up against the wall in the dining room.” I pretend to shrug like it’s no big deal. “I kind of lost count of all the whats and wheres.”
“Oral in the kitchen?” Sylvie breathes, hand at her throat. “I need to call Drew right now, see what time he’s getting off.”
“You have four kids,” I say. “How the hell are you going to manage oral in the kitchen?”
“How do you think we got those four kids? It wasn’t the stork that brought them.”
“You used protection, right?” Dolly asks, narrowing her eyes.
“Of course. Although I’m going to have to restock—I think we used up my entire stash.”
“That’s a good problem to have,” Sylvie teases.
“He was a good problem,” I say. “You should have seen the way the people at the nursing home were absolutely riveted while he played. The staff too. And get this—Mom recognized him. She literally knew the words to their biggest hit.”
“That’s always been your Mom’s thing,” Dolly says softly. She and my mother went to high school together so they’ve been friends a long time.
“Yeah, but they’ve only been around about a year—and she’s been in the nursing home for a lot longer than that.”
“Music transcends a lot of things—even Alzheimer’s, I guess,” Sylvie says thoughtfully. “But it’s nice that she got to meet him.”
“Yeah, he was really great with her. Want to see pictures?” I whip out my phone without waiting for an answer and they ooh and ahh over the pictures of Tate and my mom. I didn’t realize I’d taken so many. Not to mention the ones we took last night while we were baking.
Tate with flour in his hair.
Tate holding up a pie and pretending he was going to bite into it whole.
Tate wearing one of my mom’s aprons while I had him crushing more Oreos.
The selfie we took with all fourteen pies behind us. You can’t see them all but they’re there. Just like him. In my kitchen as though he helps me bake every day.
“Wow.” Dolly smiles. “Looks like a good time.”
“It was.”
“Are you girls planning to stand there giggling all night?” Brent teases, sticking his head out of the kitchen. “Or maybe, you know, go out there and greet the ten people that just seated themselves?”
“Oh, you hush,” Dolly makes a shooing motion with her hand. “Don’t you belong in the kitchen?”
We laugh and for a while, I forget about Tate.
It’s a good night at the diner, so I’m relieved that I’ll be able to pick up mom’s meds for her without breaking the bank. It also helps that Tate paid for my groceries and all the ingredients for two weeks’ worth of pies. He didn’t have to do that but he was the consummate gentleman, something I haven’t had a lot of experience with in dating.
It’s not until I get home that reality sets in.
