“Thanks, I have to go.”
“Let’s talk tomorrow, after you speak with James, and I also want to hear all about this Reid guy. ’Bye, babe.”
The good thing about being twins? I know exactly how to appease her.
I spend a moment or two crafting a response.
ANDI: If the apron fits ...
REID: That’s how you’re going to play?
Is that what I want to do? Play? Honestly, I don’t know.Like a cat with its tail between its legs, I respond.
ANDI: JK. Those street tacos did look good, though.
REID: Want some? You relegated me to Saturday, but I could be bribed to bring some over. Or you could come here.
Oh, he’s still flirting. I’m in so far over my head, I don’t know what to do.
I glance over at Gabby. The credits are beginning to roll on her show. Her legs are tossed over the side of the couch, and her head’s pressed back into the cushion. I take a quick look down at myself in Lulu leggings, damp Nike running shirt, and wool socks I wore on my earlier run.
“Mommy, I’m hungry.”
Yeah, me too.
Oh, what the hell. I decide to toss caution out the door. Especially since I put Reid off until this weekend, but for good reason. I had tickets to take Gabby to theNutcrackerthe Saturday after Thanksgiving.
ANDI: FYI, Gabby just said she’s hungry.
As soon as I hitSEND, I want to slap myself. Using my daughter to bed men. Bad move.
While his three dots are floating in a bubble, I text again.
ANDI: I’m hungry too.
REID: I have all these toppings. Would you like to come here? Remember where it is?
Of course I remember. On the corner of lust and Reidville, where I left my libido and forlorn heart.
ANDI:Sure.
REID: What time works for you? I have to reheat the meat.
He’s so domestic, I’m taken aback. After all, my ex went out for his daily coffee and then never came back. Remembering that little tidbit is a dose of reality. Men are fickle.
Maybe not Reid, though?
Although I’m lying to Reid, which is a bit like holding a fart in for too long. Eventually, it bursts free and your cover is blown.
Oh snap. I need to put up a post. I think about what I can recycle word-wise while sniffing under my armpits and remembering if what I ate for lunch gives me gas.
ANDI: An hour? I have a tiny bit of work to finish.
I didn’t text that I need a quick whore’s bath and to brush my teeth and pop some TUMS.
“What’s this?”
When Gabby points at a dish of pico de gallo, I explain the ingredients.
