In with the New Baby

That might work with the string of guys she dates, but it won’t work with me, Miss Anne!

I gather an overnight bag and stuff some clothes and toiletries in it and take off. I don’t have to be at work until Thursday, so if I’m gone for a few days it won’t matter.

I get back into my car and drive out of the city and up near the river in Westchester County. I find a cute out-of-the-way hotel that I know a lot of couples go to for weekend getaways and check in.

The room is quiet, cool, and cozy. I turn the television on for some stupid background noise and take a shower. I dress in just a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I plop onto the bed. My eyes are heavy with hurt and anxiety.

When I wake up, it’s already nine o’clock. I’ve slept for about four hours!

I get off the bed and my stomach growls. I’m hungry. I barely ate my nice salad at Sushi Heaven because I left in such a huff. Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face.

My mother always tells me not to starve myself, even though she does the same thing. She’s always skipping lunch, and then wonders why she feels dizzy by late afternoon.

I look in the mirror in the bathroom and study myself.

I feel and look fat. I’ve always been worried about my weight. The yo-yo diets didn’t help at all. It’s not that I’m unhealthy. I’ve just always carried some extra pounds. I’m no stick but I don’t consider myself obese. But the way I’ve been feeling about myself lately, I just don’t know.

I know that Lincoln says he likes my curves, but I also see the way every single woman who’s so skinny she looks like she could be a model glances at him and tries to flirt with him, and I just feel insecure.

I call to see if room service is still available.

“Yes, ma’am, the kitchen is open until eleven o’clock.”

“Oh, thank you,” I say.

“Yes, ma’am, there is a menu on the desk in your room, but if you find nothing to your liking, the chef will be happy to make whatever you’d like.”

“Thank you,” I say again and hang up.

Some people can just be so nice.

I go over to the desk and sit down in the chair and turn the lamp on. I open the menu and look through it. Lots of pasta dishes… not really in the mood… I’d love a burger… oh, look, they have a filet mignon… or even a nice baked chicken with asparagus and mashed potatoes….

There’s a hard knock on the door.

I’m thinking that it’s room service but I didn’t order anything. Maybe they’re here to take my order in person. The way they run this place so friendly and all I wouldn’t be surprised. I open the door.

It’s Lincoln.

“Hey, babe,” he says with a very stern look on his face. “What happened to you?”

He stands with his arms crossed over his chest and legs spread apart.

“Lincoln,” I say. “How did you find me?”

“I have my ways,” he says.

He still looks very serious.

I don’t know what to say.

“So, aren’t you gonna let me in?” he asks.

“Sure.”

He’s wearing his sneakers, a very tight pair of faded and ripped jeans, and a black hoodie.

He looks as cute as always.

“Why are you so serious?” I ask.

He comes over and grabs me by the waist and pulls me to him. I can feel his hard cock pushing into my groin.

“I was fuckin’ worried about you,” he says and kisses me.

“Don’t be,” I say.

We both sit at the edge of the bed. He tells me how Anne texted him and how she said I left them in the restaurant and they’re worried about me and blah, blah, blah, I don’t care. I’m still mad at Anne.

He says that he went to my place and Margie told him that when I want to get away, I come up here. I used to work at White Plains Hospital as a nurse, and I like the serene environment of upstate New York. Well, more “upstate” than the City, anyway.

“I just needed some time to myself,” I say.

“I figured that,” he says, and leans back onto the bed.

I get a text from Catharine.

I promise I didn’t give up any info on where you were! That was all Anne and Margie.

I know, girl, I text her back.

Then I turn off my phone.

Lincoln has taken off his hoodie while I was looking at my phone. His t-shirt is too short and it rides up his torso. I see his tight, hairy six-pack, which he’ll naturally have to shave if he fights.

I hate when he shaves his chest.

That reminds me. I still haven’t even found out about this fight the girls were talking about at Sushi Heaven. Talk about embarrassing – to not even know what’s going on with the guy you’re supposedly dating, when your friends know because they pay more attention to sports.