Chapter 1
1797 Words
I lay back on the warm sand with the sun beating down on my body. “More of that,” I mumble as his dark stubbled cheek runs across my flat belly and he nestles between my legs. “I think I love you.”
With a devilish smirk, he pushes my skimpy bikini bottom to the side and his sparkling blue gaze coasts up my body to meet mine. Oh, he’s a bad boy all right. One swipe of his tongue and I writhe under him, my thighs opening wider. My hands fall to my sides, searching for something to clamp on to, but only sand slips through my fingers.
This man knows his way around a woman’s body. I wish my ex-husband could see me now. See this gorgeous hunk of a man willingly pleasing me without the disclaimer of “I’ll do you if you do me.” He hooks his fingers into the sides of my bikini bottoms, staring up at me with half-lidded eyes as he lowers them down my legs and flings them behind him.
“Now where was I?” His shoulders nudge my thighs farther open.
I sigh, falling back down while the warm sun soaks my skin and the sand cocoons my body. This man is an expert. He should start a YouTube channel on how to give oral s*x on a beach to a woman you don’t know. He flicks his tongue and all thoughts of YouTube leave my brain because this man deserves to have every one of my nerve endings’ attention. My back arches, my thighs quake, my moans deafening to my own ears.
“That’s it. I’m right there. Keep going.”
He presses his arm over my taut stomach. I clench to prolong the impending orgasm, but the urge to let go intensifies with every swipe of his tongue. He pushes a finger into me, quickly adding another one. I free-fall as if I’m in one of those extreme swing rides, but my harness doesn’t jolt me back when the bungee cord stretches to its full capability. Instead, I fly out and soar through the sunny sky.
“Mommy?”
“Mom!”
“Is she sick?”
“She’s groaning like she’s gonna throw up.”
“She’s not groaning, she’s… oh God, I’m out.”
A nudge on my side jolts me, and as if a witch cast a spell, the man disappears, then the beach. The ocean is the last to fade away as I open my eyes and blink to find three pairs of curious eyes hovering over me.
I look at the ancient alarm clock with flip numbers. You know, like in the movie Groundhog Day? It’s programmed to my dad’s favorite seventies radio station so “Something’s Comin’ Up” by Barry Manilow sounds throughout the room as I blindly fumble to find the small button that makes it stop.
I slowly rise from the bed, peeking at three of my four children. My fourteen-year-old Nikki has one arm of a shirt while my twelve-year-old Mandi has the other. The middle is so stretched out, it’s a wonder the fabric hasn’t ripped in half.
“Tell her she can’t keep borrowing my clothes!” Nikki screeches, yanking on the fabric.
“Are you okay, Mom?” My sweet little eight-year-old, Posey, climbs over the edge of the bed and cuddles up next to me. She’s my worrier and my spiritual leader, as she’s decided it’s her mission to find remedies to cheer me up every day.
“I’m leaving!” Jed screams from downstairs.
Nikki huffs and glares at Mandi, yanking again. “I gotta go. Give me the shirt.”
I sigh and look at Posey, whose head is on my shoulder and staring up at me with her sweet smile. She runs her small hand down my arm until our hands are joined, then she squeezes because she’s worried. I could kill my ex-husband, Jeff, for this. Our once-carefree seven-year-old now feels as though she has to take care of me because he decided to implode our family unit.
“Go get ready, Posey. We have to leave soon.” I kiss the top of her head.
She’s reluctant to let me go, but when her sisters’ screams become louder and I sigh, she sees it’s her best option. This room is about to shake from the volume of my yelling.
I close my eyes and swing the covers off the bed, sliding my legs over the edge to get up.
“Mom!” Nikki points.
I look down to find a giant stain on my sweatshirt from the mint chocolate chip ice cream I spilled all over myself last night while I ate it out of the carton. I stand and head into the bathroom. “Leave me alone. You two have plenty of clothes. Find something.”
“No! Mom, it’s mine. Tell Mandi to let go.”
Jed honks the horn of the truck from the driveway. The truck that Jeff just had to buy Jed because why not buy your seventeen-year-old son’s happiness with a truck instead of actually, oh, I don’t know… keeping your d**k out of other women’s v*****s.
“Mandi, give Nikki the shirt so she can go to school. You can find something else.”
“Seriously?” Mandi’s shoulders sink as though I told her she has a giant zit on the tip of her nose and there’s a boy at the door.
I shut the bathroom door. With my hands on the sink, my chin falls to my chest and I inhale and exhale a deep breath to find some serenity and calm. Maybe I should download one of those meditation apps or try yoga or something. All the other moms raved about it back in Arizona.
Turning on the shower, I grab the hem of my sweatshirt to strip it off, but I catch my reflection in the mirror. Oh my God. What happened to me? I’m wearing an oversized pair of flannel pants and my dad’s overly large “Just the Tip” sweatshirt with a bullet and American flag on it.
“Today is a new day,” I murmur.
Wheels squeal outside as Jed punches the gas pedal. I picture the back of the truck fishtailing. I’m the mother of a hoodlum. Tears prick my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall.
I strip off my sweatshirt and my pants and step into the avocado-colored porcelain tub with the valance of fabric, complete with ties and tassels. My mom does nothing that doesn’t involve tassels. A rush of cold water shoots down on my back.
“s**t!” I scream and bolt out of the bathtub, one lonely tassel tie falling to the floor.
I dry myself off before putting my sweatshirt and pants back on for warmth then head downstairs to the kitchen, finding Mandi and Posey. Posey is dressed, backpack zipped up and a Pop-Tart and glass of milk in front of her on the table. Jesus. One day she’ll be in a therapist’s office, saying it all started when she was seven and her parents divorced.
“Mandi, was the water hot this morning?”
“Lukewarm.” She bites a piece of toast.
“Were you the last one in?” I ask.
She eats her toast, staring at her phone. Another one of Jeff’s gifts. “First.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Did Jed or Nikki say anything?”
She shrugs and sips her juice.
I turn on the lights at the top of the basement stairs before rushing down. At the bottom step, the sight of water on the cement floor alarms me.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I tiptoe through the water and find the source—the water heater. Since it’s only been two retired people living in this house for the past twenty-plus years, I’m sure it’s in shock from my teenage boy, who takes three showers a day.
After running back up the stairs, I grab the home phone and dial my mom in Florida. I’d love to volunteer to pay for this since they’re letting my kids and me stay in their home rent-free while they travel in their RV. Although they’ve offered to let us stay when they return in two months, if I want to preserve what little sanity I have left, I need to find a place of my own. Which means I need to save all the money I can.
“Hey, honey, shouldn’t you be on your way to school?”
“Good morning, Mom.” I ignore her question. “I think the hot water heater is done.”
“Hold on.” She must only move the phone a millimeter away from her mouth before she screams, “Frank!”
Posey slides off the stool and points at the clock, eyeing me to make sure I see it.
I cover the receiver. “Go wait in the car.”
They actually listen, and I tap my fingers on the counter, waiting for my dad.
“I’ll call Hank Greene,” my mom suggests.
“No, don’t do that.”
Just the thought of my ex-husband’s cousin coming here and seeing me makes me want to dig a hole for myself. My gaze scatters across the messy house. The carton of ice cream I finished off last night sits by the trash can. The takeout pizza boxes are precariously balanced on the counter. Jed’s socks and sweatshirts litter every surface, and cups clutter the end tables. I’ve lost all control of my children.
I hear the phone exchange hands. “What’s up, buttercup?”
“Hey, Dad, I told Mom I’m guessing the water heater is done. There’s water in the basement and all I got was cold water this morning.”
“Yeah, that thing has been on its last legs.”
I wave my hand to get this conversation going even though he can’t see me. “So who do I call? Who do you use?”
“I’m calling Hank right now,” Mom yells in the background.
“Dad! Tell her no.”
But I hear Mom on Dad’s speakerphone. The line is ringing.
“Hank’s a good guy,” Dad says. “He does all the work for us ever since his dad retired. He’s the “it guy” in Sunrise Bay now.”
I stop myself from saying he was the “it guy” when I was in high school too. Another reason I do not want him to bear witness to what has happened to me.
“Hey, Hank!” Mom singsongs, then her voice fades away. I strain to hear anything, but she must have left the RV with the cell phone.
“Don’t you think it’s a little awkward to have Jeff’s cousin come and fix the water heater?”
Dad doesn’t say anything for a moment. “True. Point made. Okay, well, we’ll have to call someone from another town. Helen!” he yells.
I move the phone away from my ear.
Posey comes back in the door, her eyes pleading. “I can’t be late again, Mom. Please.”
She’s right.
“Hey, Dad, I have to take the girls to school. I’ll call you when I get back and we can figure it out. Give me about a half hour.”
“Sure thing, buttercup.”
I stuff my phone into my purse and run out the front door to my minivan. “Sorry, girls.”
My tires squeal and slide as I punch the gas with the hopes my kids don’t get another tardy on their record.
Little did I know my day was about to get worse.
- Writer
