Dream Keeper (Dream Team 4)

After we ate those, he took us to his place for football, which led to Tod and Stevie coming over, more Yahtzee and pork rind nachos.

Juno loved Tod and Stevie. And she declared Auggie’s nachos the best things she’d ever eaten (Tod concurred). Aug told her next up was his pimento cheese hush puppies, which she ordered me to add to our Thanksgiving dinner.

I tensed because this was an unknown.

For about two seconds.

I looked to Aug.

Aug said, “I’ll be ready to fulfill that order.”

In other words, Juno had invited him to Thanksgiving dinner, and Auggie had accepted.

Needless to say, that was way okay by me.

Also needless to say, Sunday had been a great day.

* * *

Juno went to her dad’s on Monday, something that sucked no less than it normally did even with Auggie in my life.

Nevertheless, it was tempered by the fact that Auggie, no other way to put it, temporarily moved in that day.

This began with me texting him about five minutes after she left to catch the bus.

Understandably, due to

circumstances, you failed in your

appointed task last week to

spend your lunch hour with me.

Now, prepare to devour me at

your earliest convenience.

And if he didn’t understand that, I added,

I mean sexually.

I did not delay in this invitation because, seriously, when you got the good stuff, and barely had a dose of it, then it was taken away, you wanted it back the minute you could get it.

Auggie texted back,

I know what you meant, baby. ?

Though, I got something on that will

go late tonight.

I was undeterred.

Can you meet me after work?

He was feeling like I was.

Because I got,

Abso-fucking-lutely.

Since I’d already given him a key, the house was softly lit and Aug was in his corner of the couch, watching late-night TV, when I got home that night.

I delayed our reconnection long enough to ask, “Did you bring a bag?”

He stood, answering, “Nope.”

“Tomorrow,” I ordered.

He’d given me a look that was the equivalent of thirty-three-point-seventy-five minutes of foreplay.

In other words, I was pre-orgasm just standing there staring at him.

Then he’d grabbed my hand, dragged me up the stairs, took me to my room…

And fucked me.

It went fast, so it was good he’d given me that look to prime me, because it also went phenomenally.

He brought a bag the next day.

We had dinner together every night before I went to work.

And he spent every night beside me in my bed.

This was good, not only because I liked to climb in bed beside a warm body (if that body was Auggie’s) after getting home from work, having him wake and sleepily pull me into his arms for a cuddle. I also liked being woken by a warm body who wanted things from mine that I was happy to give.

And I gave them.

Freely and as copiously as possible before Aug had to get up, take a shower and tackle his day.

* * *

It was also good Aug temporarily moved in because Corbin decided that, in the month of November, he was going to make a bid for father of the year.

This came Wednesday, when I got a text at work from him that said,

Was in your neighborhood for

a late showing. His car was in

your drive. He better not be

spending the night when my

daughter is there.

Considering the fact that Corbin had a revolving door of women spending the night when Juno was with him, I forced myself to give it twelve solid hours (anything less would have had me losing my mind and saying things I wished I hadn’t).

Once that time was up, I replied,

I will address this one time.

At the moment, Auggie is not

staying over when Juno is here.

However, there will come a

time when he will, and it will

be none of your business.

Just as it’s none of your

business should he be doing

it now.

But please, be more aware of

the things you say, the things

you expect and the things

you do.

I won’t talk any further on

this subject.

Of course, within the hour, I got,

We need to sit down in person.

Without J and without that guy.

There are important things

to discuss.

Please name them.

I will at dinner on Sunday

I’ll get a sitter for Juno.

I’m unavailable on Sunday.

You don’t want this to

get ugly.

Are you threatening me?

I just want to talk to you.

Was that a threat, Corbin?

Dinner.

Sunday.

I’m spending Sunday with Auggie.

From then on, nothing.

Nothing bad.

Nothing good.

However, I shared that text conversation with Auggie.

And after I watched him visibly wrestle with then conquer the urge to find Corbin and punch him in the nose (or whatever), he said, “Do you have a lawyer?”

I shook my head, then nodded it.

“I don’t know what that means,” Auggie pointed out, his eyes having followed the movements of my head.

“It means, I wasn’t working when we broke up. Not really. I had a part-time job, but mostly for play money. Corbin didn’t want the breakup. He said he’d end things with her, and we’d sort it out. Then, when I didn’t fall in line with that, he got pissed and it got ugly. I was doing hair, trying to rebuild my clientele, nowhere close to full time. I had no money, no family to ask for help. That was when I started stripping.”