“Damn. But you never. . . .”
“No! Oh, hell, no. I never did a thing with her. Can you imagine how that would be?” I shivered just thinking about it.
Every guy has, at some time or another, unless he’s Mr. Virtuous, schtupped and dumped the wrong woman. A guy who’s not afraid of anything will shudder in his boots at even the merest hint of that woman getting revenge. We’ve all seen movies like Fatal Attraction and they scare us worse than any horror movie ever made. I can watch the entire Saw series and follow up with Chucky and Halloween or Nightmare on Elm Street. None of them scare me as much as knowing there could be a pissed off chick with a picture of my balls decorating her machete.
Molly was in rare form. Despite the fact that she was post-op, she was obviously feeling better. She had good color in her cheeks and felt well enough to chide me for my bad behavior the night before.
“You look like hell,” she said when Steve and I were taking our turn with her. “Did you sleep?”
I laughed, shaking my head.
“He’s got a new toy,” Steve told her. “Of course he didn’t sleep.”
“The ones last weekend weren’t enough? Lord, child! Am I going to have to put a choke chain on that bad boy?”
“This bad boy has found his one and only for a very long time,” I told her. “You need to get well soon so you can dance at the wedding.”
“You just met her!”
“Sally says we’re getting married.” I shrugged. “Who am I to argue?”
“Only a fool argues with Sally over something like that,” she told me. “You listen. . . .”
“I get it. Steve told me.”
“Good. Now you two get the hell outta here. I need a nap. Who’s going to be around tomorrow?”
“Steve is taking the girls home, but he and Angie are spending the night.”
She pronounced that acceptable. Getting a kiss from each of us, she pulled up her sheet and fell promptly asleep.
As we left the building, Sally grabbed my arm, yanking me hard. “Who is the woman?” She asked, her face clouded.
“The one whose shadow haunts you.”
“What are you talking about, Sally?”
“She’s a mystery to you. You don’t know her name.”
I shivered, rubbing the back of my neck. I suddenly felt like I had the cross-hairs of a high powered sniper rifle on me. I wasn’t going to deny anything, though I didn’t intend to boast. I gave her a very brief rundown on the Mystery Date.
“Be careful,” she said. “Be very careful.”
“How so? What do I need to do?”
“I don’t know.” She patted my hand distractedly. “If I figure it out, I’ll call you.”
“Okay. . . .”
She practically ran to the van, hopping in the back, looking nervous. I followed, deliberately slowly, still feeling the prickling on my neck like someone was watching me. It gave me the creeps.
By the time we got back to my place, the apartment was transformed. The women, bored and restless, had cleaned up. Not that I’m a slob, but I’m not Ma. She and Sarena had cleaned the entire kitchen and started dinner cooking. I don’t know what we were having, but it smelled great. After bidding the others farewell, I flopped down on my couch, feet on the pristine coffee table. That earned me a sharp reprimand from my mother.
“Sorry, Ma. I’m exhausted.”
“Go take a nap. Sarena will keep me company.”
“I was kind of hoping she’d take one with me.”
“Michael Aaron Reuben,” she admonished. “You can’t for one second think of something other than sex?”
“Ma! I think of plenty of other things. How can you even say a thing like that?”
She laughed at me. “You should see yourself. You’re so embarrassed, you don’t have any idea what to do or say.”
“I’m not prepared to have this kind of conversation with my mother. It makes me extremely uncomfortable.”
© Dellani Oakes 2014