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Jordyn's Army

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“Smartass.” I nudge her with my toe.

“This is a good move, Mommy; it’s finally your time.”

“Don’t call me that you little shit.” Even though she is right about it being my time, I only wish I could spend it with the man of my dreams.

The tall and thick gray-haired Owen. Now that man is quality fine.

“Oh, come on, Mommy. It’s fun to get a rise out of you.” Kennedy pops to her feet. She looks adorable in her cute little sleeveless top. “I have some good news for you.” She states, wagging her brows.

“As long as you don’t tell me Oliver knocked you up then tell me.” God, the idea of it makes me hit a mid-life crisis. I have a child old enough to have a baby of her own. I could become a grandma. Oh, hell to the no. I’m not even close to being ready. “Wait, does this mean you finally gave up your virginity?” My daughter, unlike me who gave it up to an asshole, has been holding out until she found the man she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. It’s one of the many things I admire about Kennedy.

“I like Oliver. He’s a good guy. The young man has a tight ass, and a smile that doesn’t just melt your panties off it burst those babies in flames and leaves a big trail of smoldering ashes behind you, but if you are pregnant, he better stand by you or I’ll flatten his tight ass.”

Oliver has good genes, just like his father. Oh, God, his father. Owen, the man who turns me upside down and inside out. I’ve dreamt about that man more times than I can count. The way his big hands would mold to my breasts. The way he would kiss and of course, use the big package I’ve seen a time or two tenting his swim trunks when Kennedy and I went to his mansion for a barbeque.

I dreamed that hard-on was for me and not the nim-wit he’d have as his date. You know the kind, the act all flighty and giggly ones who act the part of a ditz down to a tee when in truth, they are smart as they dig for the pot of gold. Cling on little tramps wouldn’t know what love is if it slapped them in the face.

“No, we broke up. It was a mutual thing; I don’t know how to describe Oliver and me. Every time we would kiss, I felt like I was kissing my brother. He felt like he was kissing his sister. Don’t you see, now you can stop pretending you don’t have a thing for his dad.” She rolls her eyes as if she didn’t just drop a bomb in my lap.

“What? How do you know I have a thing for Owen, and honey, are you sure you’re okay?”

Owen is sin on a stick, but he’s way out of my league. He’s flirted with me the many times we’ve met, and I’ve tried flirting back. I’m out of practice with men. Besides that, I would never go there and chance messing things up for Kennedy. “If the two of you broke up because you think-” Kennedy slaps her hand over my mouth, stopping me from asking her if they broke up because of me.

“Uh, it’s obvious by the way you look at him. He likes you too, you know. Mom, we did not break up because of the two of you. I promise. End of subject. Here, Owen asked me to give you this.” She digs into her bag next to her and hands me what looks like a blank white card and a gift box all wrapped in my favorite co

lor — a soft rosy pink. I flip over the card to see the name of an expensive restaurant in town. Date and time are printed in masculine handwriting underneath.

My heart jumps out of my chest and does a happy dance on the stained carpet.

“Kennedy, I can’t go out with a millionaire. I mean, look at me.” I set the card in between us and open the box, being careful not to ruin the paper.

“I am looking at you, Mom. You are stunning and caring. You and Owen have been stepping all over each other. Trust me; the man is hot for momma. Wow, that’s their new perfume, it’s called Pure Rose. Oliver showed me the box. They have a wonderful designer. Her name is Jordyn. Let’s smell it.”

I’m shocked and stunned. No man has done anything like this for me.

Carefully, I peel the cellophane off, lift the lid, and slowly pull out the rose-shaped bottle. And in Kennedy fashion, because her mother is taking too long, she yanks it out of my hand, twists off the cap and spritzes some in the air.

“It smells like a rose,” I say, smiling the biggest one I’ve done since Kennedy graduated with honors from college.

Owen told me one night while the four of us went to dinner that his company had been working on a new line. I dreamed it was named after me. Of course, it isn’t.

“Mom, you two belong together. You have the biggest heart, and so does Owen. You’ve sacrificed your life for me. You are going. There’s no ifs, ands or buts about it. You deserve to go on a date. Live a little and get you some. I promise both Oliver and I are okay with it; I wouldn’t push this if we weren’t. Please don’t stand Owen up,” she winks before tossing her bag over her shoulder and heading toward the door with the detonator button in her hand. Does she think she’s going to leave me like this? I guess she does as she swings open the door and turns to face me.

Shocked, I’m in absolute shock.

I won’t stand him up. I’m going, and I’m going to thank him properly. How that is, I haven’t a clue, but if my libido has a say, it will be by me riding him like the stallion I bet he is.

“Whatever, I’ll think about it, now go,” I say, standing up and hugging her. I watch her until she struts her cute little self to her car. I stand there long after the taillights disappear thinking my baby girl is all grown up and she’s right about me being good enough for Owen. I just hope I don’t chicken out.

It’s with a heavy heart, and an excited mind, I shut the door and lock it. Smelling my perfume as I kick my feet in the air.

After that quick and fluttery news to my system, my slight wine induced buzz is gone. I pour another glass pretending it’s an aged expensive bottle I’m indulging in.

The protruding of my belly catches my attention when I bend down to pick up the picture frame and place it on the scraped up wooden end table beside my couch. I take a hand and jiggle it, then begin to laugh.

“Right, as if Owen would want a piece of this.” The guy is perfectly cut; he’s like a rare diamond in the rough. No way would he go for a middle-aged woman like me.

Deflate goes the ego.



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