Perfectly Adequate
Yes, I’m still thinking about that. I’m certain I will think about that day every day for the rest of my life.
“Dorfee!” Roman tackle hugs her again, only she’s ready for it this time and stays on her feet.
“Little Romeo! Are you excited to hang with me tonight?”
“Yes!” As quickly as his excitement starts, he runs off to play, much like a dog greeting someone then running off when they realize no one brought them treats.
“Hey.” I take in her jeans, floral shirt, and green Nikes that match the stems on the shirt. It’s my first time seeing her in jeans. They’re not as inviting as her very accessible skirts, but she looks hot as hell just the same.
“Hey. So are you leaving his car seat … for emergencies?”
“9-1-1 is the best choice for emergencies.”
“Yes, but if you get in an accident or my mom or dad choke on something and die, I wouldn’t want to wait until you got home. And 9-1-1 is not a taxi service.” She shoves her hands into her front pockets, then her back pockets, then she folds them over her chest. Very odd for her.
“Yes. I’ll put his car seat in your car right now. Just don’t forget to have me get it out when I get back.”
“Cool.” She brushes past me and slips off her shoes.
Something feels a little off about Dorothy tonight, but I can’t quite figure it out. And I need to get to my appointment, so I switch the car seat and give her last minute instructions.
“There’s a list of numbers on the counter. He’s already had dinner, but there’s also a list of snacks he can have, but don’t give him anything later than seven-thirty. Bedtime is eight. There’s a list of that routine as well. Going pee is at the top of the list. Make him go first thing and again one more time before you actually put him in bed.
“Eli, I can read. And this is not my first time babysitting. Go.” She glances at her watch.
Again, I feel like something is not right with her. She gives off a nervous vibe that’s different than her other vibes.
With Roman in the other room, I move in on her, hoping to erase the weird vibe with a kiss. She stiffens at first. Then she grabs my shirt and lets me kiss her, allowing her tongue to slide against mine.
Fuck the massage. I want to put Roman in his bed and get Dorothy naked in mine. When I release her mouth, my nose rubs against hers as I whisper. “Maybe when I get back you can kiss me … lower.”
She rubs her lips together and lifts her gaze to mine. A few seconds later, they widen a fraction as my intentions must make their connection in her brain.
“Oh …” She shakes her head. “No. I’m good.”
I chuckle, stepping back, feeling the burn of rejection. Maybe I should have texted that to her. Maybe she might have inserted a winking face emoji. Maybe the one with the tongue sticking out. Maybe an eggplant emoji.
Maybe … my blowjob days are over.
I sigh. “Well, thanks. See you in a while.”
She glances at her watch again, chewing on her lower lip, and nods. “Okay.”
“Bye, Roman. Keep an eye on Dorothy.” I slip into the living room where he’s surrounded by Duplo Legos and give him a kiss on the top of his head. When I get into my car, I whisper on a laugh, “Oh … No. I’m good.” My ego-crushing laughter continues as I pull out of the driveway. “You’ve lost your game, man. It’s just … gone.”
* * *
After my massage, I have a string of missed calls, messages, and texts on my phone from Julie.
Why does the hospital transporter have our child at the farmer’s market?
Where are you?
Why aren’t you answering your phone?
Why didn’t she know where you’re at?
Did she have a car seat for him?
I’m taking him with me since he’s on my watch again tomorrow anyway.
Dammit, Eli! Why did MY child have a fit when I tried to take him with me? OMFG, I’m so embarrassed that he threw a tantrum because he wanted to stay with her. A police officer asked HER if everything was OK, like I was trying to abduct my own child!
WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?
I call her on my way to my car.
“Jesus! Where are you, Elijah?”
I rub my forehead. “I had an appointment. Calm down. What’s going on?”
“Are you fucking the transporter girl? Is that why she was at brunch on Sunday and at the farmer’s market with Roman tonight?”
“If only that were your business. Do you have another question for me?”
“That’s my son. You can’t leave him with just anyone. She had no fucking clue where you were.”
“She said that?”
“She said you had an appointment. I asked where, and after a few minutes of this deer in the headlight look, she shrugged. How is she supposed to get ahold of you in an emergency if she has no clue where you are? How would she get ahold of me or—”