I got dressed while waiting for my erection to go down. I’d have to take care of it later, most likely.
After a moment, I walked downstairs to find Maddie sleeping on the couch. I remembered not letting her up the stairs, and instead forced her to sleep on one of the smallest couches in the house. She agreed, and I was slightly surprised that she hadn’t snuck toward one of the bedrooms upstairs.
I realized the binder full of my stories had been left on the floor near the entrance. I picked it up and flipped through the first few pages. The first two were stories that I had written when I was 10, about a boy trying to find his lost dog. The next one was a 50-page story about a man who had gotten lost in a mall, and the several few following it were all about lost people. I hadn’t realized that I only wrote about losing things.
I found the story Maddie had mentioned at our first dinner together, about the child lost in the hospital. It was my first attempt at horror, and I remembered giving it to Ron to critique. He avoided reading it and asked to take it home over a spring break to look at it. I realized that must have been when he showed it to Maddie. As I thought back to it, Ron hadn’t ever spoken about it again. Mom had been given the story shortly afterward, and I had forgotten all about it.
Something convinced me to take that story out, fold it, and slip it into Maddie’s purse. She may have been a gold-digging whore, but at least she appreciated my writing when no one else bothered to read it. She mentioned that I was her biggest supporter; I would never have thought she had been one of mine.
I shoved the binder into my closet. I hadn’t had the passion to write for a long while, especially after my father passed. Mom begged me to write her a book every now and then, and I realized I always told her that I would write it one day. I never thought that one day would have actually arrived.
I stood over Maddie’s sleeping form. Her hair was tangled and a mess around her face, and the blanket barely covered her naked body. Makeup was smeared across her face, but it was somehow attractive. God, she was beautiful. Better looking than the models I’ve seen in magazines or the internet, and somehow, she was smart and passionate about her dreams at the same time. Maybe a little too passionate. I shook my head. Why was I praising the woman who used my dying mother to her advantage?
“Hey,” I said loudly. “Get up.”
She barely stirred. Instead, she nestled further into the couch on her side. The blanket was cramped toward her front, leaving me with a view of her slender back and the top of her ass. It had a bright red mark on it that would surely turn into a bruise.
“Damn it, woman, get the hell up,” I said again and shook her shoulder. Her eyes peeked open and closed when she noticed me.
“What time is it?” she asked with a sore voice. Her hips wiggled as she woke up, and I wondered if she was doing it on purpose.
“Doesn’t matter. Get out of my house,” I said.
She sighed and leaned on her elbow. The blanket fell toward her lower back, giving me a new view of her breasts.
I turned away and crossed my arms.
“I’ll call you when I need you to come back,” I said. “Probably next week for dinner.”
“I’m just supposed to wait around for your call?” she asked and stood. My eyes gravitated toward her body.
“Get dressed,” I said. She found her dress on the floor near the door of the bathroom and slipped it on. I noticed she didn’t bother looking for her panties or bra. It wasn’t until then that I realized the bar must have been a disaster. “And yes, that’s how this agreement works.”
“Fine,” she said and readied her stuff. She pulled out her phone and snapped a quick picture of me.
“What the hell was that?” I asked and tried reaching for the phone.
“We didn’t get any pictures last night,” she explained. “This one is so your mom knows you’re getting laid.”
?
?That’s gross,” I said.
“I’m just going what you said. This is going on my profile with a short description of how lovely last night was,” she said and put her shoes on. I raised my eyebrows. “The dinner, you asshole. How lovely the dinner was.”
“Whatever, just make sure to post it before tonight. It’ll make her happy,” I said. Maddie said goodbye as she walked out the door, and I shut it behind her without a word. I walked behind the bar to find three bottles smashed and a pair of panties and a bra soaked in alcohol.
The woman was going to drive me crazy.
Mom was standing over the sink when I arrived at her house. She wiped her mouth, and I knew instantly that she hadn’t been able to keep her breakfast down.
“Do you want a new protein shake?” I asked as I finished the last of my shake. “The banana cream isn’t so bad.”
“I don’t mind the strawberry one,” she said. “I think I have enough for a few more meals.”
“I’ll restock you,” I said and helped her to the couch. “How are you feeling?”
“Tired,” she said and leaned against the back. “Karen let me sleep in too long, and you know how I’m always more tired with the more sleep I get.”