Fortuity (Transcend 3)

By the time I got my first period, nobody cared. My friends and their big boobs had moved on to grown-up things, like tampons and letting boys in school feel their big boobs. Nobody cared about Gracelyn Glock’s official debut into womanhood. No parties were thrown for me. My mom simply curled my long hair behind my ear, smiled, then retrieved a sanitary napkin from one of her apron pockets. “Sticky side down, Gracelyn. There’s more under the sink. And change it every time you go to the bathroom so you don’t smell.”

I was a straight A student. Can we talk about how insulting it was that she felt the need to tell me sticky side down?

“Morgan?” I knock on her bedroom door. “Can I come in? It’s just me.”

The door creaks open an inch. A big blue eye peers at me. “I don’t want to talk to him right now.”

I contain my smile. “It’s just me.”

She opens the door. I step inside and close it as she plops onto her bed.

“I brought you some pads.” I hold up the bag.

She rolls her eyes. “He told you. Has he told everyone? Does Gabe know?”

“No. Just me. He thought I might have some pads to get you by until you go to the store. How are you feeling?”

She hugs her stomach. “Prostaglandins are definitely causing my uterus muscles to contract. I’m achy.”

I stare at her unblinking.

She shrugs. “I have a book about girls. My dad thinks it’s about making friendship bracelets and stuff like that. It’s not. It’s about our changing bodies.”

I grin and nod. “Sounds like a good book. If you’re not feeling well, you could try a warm compress on your belly. Pain relievers are an option too, but you’d have to discuss that with your dad.” I set the pads on the bed beside her. “These are really absorbent pads. You shouldn’t need more than just regular pads. So when your dad takes you shopping, look for regular ones. It’s up to you if you want wings. They can protect your underwear. I personally don’t love them because they stick to … everything.” My lips pull into a tight grin.

“Like your pubic hair?”

“Yes.” I chuckle. “Like that.”

She folds her hands in her lap, legs dangling from the side of the bed.

“Listen … I’ve never been a mom, so I’m not an expert on all mom things, but I’m a girl. So if you ever need a girl to talk to about…” I shrug “…anything, you can talk to me. Okay?”

Morgan’s gaze lifts from her hands to meet the sincerity in my eyes. I feel we’re having a moment. It’s not maternal; it’s friendship. I think she views me as her friend, and I really like that.

“Anything?”

I nod. “Yes. We are friends. Nothing is off the table.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. You know where to find me if you need anything else.” I turn to open the door.

“What does a penis taste like?”

I freeze. She didn’t say penis. No way. I heard her wrong. “Wh-what’s that?” I ask without looking back at her.

“A penis. Does it taste like any other part of the body?”

Fuuuck!

“Um …”

Now would be a good time for an earthquake or a meteor to take out the West Coast.

A stroke.

A heart attack.

A sinkhole to engulf this house.

“It’s no secret my dad likes you. If you want to have sex with him, that’s okay too. I’m not stupid. I know people have sex even when they’re not making babies. And I know a little about oral sex from my book—the one my dad thinks is about friendship bracelets—but it only explains what it is, not why people do it. I guess I’m just wondering if you like the taste of penises. I can’t imagine they taste good, but my dad also says you have to try something fifteen times before you know if you really like it or not. He also said some things are …” She snaps her fingers several times. “What’s the word he used …” More finger snapping. “Oh! An acquired taste.”

This isn’t my normal time of the month to get hot flashes, but every sweat gland in my body just emptied onto my skin, drowning me in embarrassment. It takes me a few seconds to remember I’m forty-one and Morgan is ten.

Time to act like the grown-up.

Turning, I bite my lips together so hard I’m certain I’ll have permanent indentations.

Her nose wrinkles when she sees my unavoidable reaction. “I think I saw something in the kitchen I wasn’t supposed to see.”

I nod slowly, taking a seat beside her so we can stare at the door instead of each other. “I think you’re quite advanced for ten, but I’m still not sure what is or isn’t appropriate to discuss with you. Still …” I scratch my forehead. “I think you know more than I want to imagine and definitely more than your dad wants to imagine. So let me just say that I am so very sorry that you saw what you did.”