Dishing Up Love

“All right, Emmy girl. Here’s documented evidence.” I turn the camera around to make it forward facing, recording as I toss the hospital-grade undies into the kitchen’s trashcan. “And to prove I will not change my mind and rescue them from the garbage—” I hurry to my fridge and grab a bunch of condiments I never use. I won’t feel guilty for tossing them out before their expiration date, because it’s for a good cause. I set the phone down on the counter after making it front facing once more, propping it so I can see myself. “—first, we’ll add a jar full of… pickled green olives with pimentos in vinegar.” I unscrew the cap and take a whiff, grimacing then making a gagging noise before dumping it on top of the panties inside the trashcan. “Next, we’ll add some sweet and spicy barbeque sauce… and then the entire bottle of jalapeño mustard we bought because we thought it might taste like McDonald’s spicy mustard sauce, but alas, it did not.” I dump those in, shaking out the contents and doing a little dance for dramatic affect.

Forgetting I’m in nothing but a towel, it shimmies loose, and I catch it right before it hits the ground, wrapping it tightly back around me. “Hopefully you’re watching this alone and Dean’s not around.” I slap my forehead. “Duh, when I send this to you, I’ll just warn you not to let him see. Because I ain’t taking the time to rerecord this shit or figure out how to use an app to edit it out.”

I pick up my phone, pulling it up level with my face, and tell my best friend, “You were right. There’s bad juju all over them bitches. Yes, they were comfy as fuck, but they were also a constant reminder of bad things that happened in the past. And I’m finally ready to get over those things and look forward to the future. I miss you, Em. So much. See you soon.” And then I blow her a kiss, stopping the recording.

I immediately type out a text, INCOMING! Beware, my boobs make an appearance, so don’t watch around Dean! I send that first as a fair warning, and then send the video behind it.

Just as the blue line showing the sending progress makes it to the very end, I receive a reply.

Isn’t Dean in like… Delaware or something right now?

My head tilts to the side in confusion, my brow furrowing. Why would Emmy be asking me where her husband is?

And then I realize…

Me: Fuck. My. Life. That was meant for EMMY! Do NOT Watch!

Curtis: Too late.

Me: What do you mean “too late”?! You can’t watch a video and be responding to me at the same time!

Curtis: I can if I’m watching the video on my 15 inch laptop screen and talking to you on my phone, sugar.

Curtis: *saves to spank bank

I squeal out in both embarrassment and laughter.

Me: You did NOT just save that! Delete it right now!

I shake my head while I wait for his response and start the long ascent, climbing the stairs in my bare feet. He still hasn’t replied by the time I reach my bedroom, so I set my phone on my dresser while I grab a pair of much prettier bikini-cut royal blue undies out of the drawer. I slip them on, dropping my towel, and then pull my super-soft black sleep tee over my head. I pick up my towel off the floor and carry it to hang on the rack in the bathroom, and when I return to my room once again, I snatch my phone off my dresser then collapse on my bed.

Finally, after what seems like forever, I get a text from Curtis.

Curtis: First, did you remember to eventually send this to the person it was intended for? Just making sure, because I can’t even imagine how happy it’ll make her. If not, DO NOT FORGET TO SEND THE NUDITY WARNING TOO. *narrowed eyes emoji

I sniff out a laugh and grin. For being so easygoing while he was here, he sure is all caveman-esque when he’s not near me. I tell him so.

Me: You know, you weren’t all bossy while you were here. Is that a proximity thing?

Curtis: I don’t know. That’s new for me. Just go with it.

I send Emmy the video, with the same boob warning ahead of it, and then switch back to Curtis’s thread.

Curtis: I think it’s because I’m not there to take care of you now. I’m not there to make sure you’re safe, to make sure you’re going to remember to eat and not walk too close to the edge of the sidewalk.

Me: You know I’ve survived this long without you, right? Almost 32 whole years. I’ve got this, honey.

Curtis: That may be. But everything changed last night. I’m not adjusting well to being away from you, now that I’ve experienced being with you. It’s like… one hit and I’m already addicted.