“Don’t you dare apologize,” she scolds, picking up her mug and blowing on her hot chocolate. “Taking steps to adjust your meds is huge! I’m so happy to hear you’re trying that. You aren’t bothering me at all. It’s alsomyjob to help women prioritize their own health and happiness. Your decision is personal, and whatever you decide will be the right choice for you. Also? Just in case you need to hear someone say it, female orgasmsareimportant, even if they don’t always get the recognition they deserve. You know this is my soapbox.” She takes on a more serious tone to tell me, “Seeking satisfaction is, in itself, a good enough reason to ask for help, but there are also a lot of medical reasons it’s valuable.”
“Yeah, I know,” I say, still not fully believing it.
“It’s true. Orgasms improve the quality of your sleep, increase your immune function, contribute to pain relief, and have tons of other health benefits in addition to your sexual satisfaction. Some people think they might even help improve fertility. This is not a superficial thing. Don’t let anyone make you feel like it is. Women’s health is important, and more people should be talking about it like this. I’m glad you called. I’m here for you.”
“Thanks, Jo. I think I really needed to hear that.”
“Anytime. It’s amazing you’re taking these steps for yourself. Truly. I’m proud of you. Let me know if I can doanything else. I need to run soon. I have plans with my mom this afternoon, but I’m so glad we got to catch up.”
“Me, too. This was really helpful. I appreciate it.”
“Anytime. And tell your sisters I said hi.”
“Will do. Thanks again.”
“Sure thing. Keep in touch, okay?”
“Absolutely.” I give her quick goodbye hug and pick up the check before heading home. Finally getting to talk to someone who understands is validating, and listening to Jo has me feeling more positive about my body and my choices than I have in a long time.
Chapter 20
Shelley
The old sycamore tree behind my parents’ house has been my favorite thinking spot for as long as I can remember. The long, thick branches cradle me perfectly, once I finally wrestle my way up to them. Tree climbing does not appear to be a skill that translates well from youth into adulthood. But with only a few scraped knuckles and some leaves in my hair, I manage to settle into the crook of a low, sturdy branch. I take a moment to catch my breath and savor the cool spring breeze. I love the way it glides lightly over my skin when I’m up here.
“Thought I might find you out here.” The deep vibrations of Jordan’s words cause an unfamiliar kind of heat to pool low in my belly as my body remembers how it felt when he finally kissed me yesterday.
“You caught me. How did the dart game go?”
“Your dad thinks I let him win, but he crushed me, fair and square.” He hoists himself into the tree like it’s nothing. As he gracefully swings himself onto the branch next to mine, I cringe and hope he didn’t witness the embarrassing amount of awkward maneuvers required for me to do the same.
Sitting in the tree with me, his presence is overwhelming in a way that makes me nervous, but not intimidated. He’s familiar and exciting all at once, like a brand-new season of my favorite TV show. Sharing space with Jordan is easy and natural,and I don’t take that for granted. It’s not something I experience with most people.
I stretch out my legs and lean back against the bark, letting the tree’s rough texture ground me as it presses its way through my clothes and into my skin. I offer Jordan a smile, which he returns easily. He sits on his branch like it’s any other chair, with his legs dangling over the edge and one hand lazily resting on a higher branch.
“Penny for your thoughts?”
“Apparently, my thoughts aren’t worth much to you,” I tease.
“Okay. Then a mint condition Ted Williams rookie card for your thoughts?”
“Is that worth a lot?”
“Let’s just say, if I had one, I wouldn’t still be living with a roommate.”
I shrug. “You can keep the imaginary card this time. I wasn’t really thinking about anything in particular. It’s kind of a jumbled mess of stuff up here.” I point at my head. “But I do love this tree, and it will be sad to see it go.”
His understanding comes in the form of a low hum, but I want him to keep talking. I like the way his voice cuts through the chaos in my brain. I wish he’d tell me I’m not the mess I think I am. More than anything, I want to know he isn’t looking at Mike’s little sister right now. I want his reassurance that last night was real and our kiss meant something to him. I want to know for sure he seesme, which is odd because usually I go out of my way to avoid being seen and keep my mask on for the world. But with Jordan it’s different, and I’m frustrated when he remains still and quiet, looking up into the higher branches and watching the clouds float by above the leaves.
“Is it good to be home?” He surprises me with his question.
“Sure. It’s nice.” My answer is genuine. I love my family. But maybe he can tell it’s bittersweet for me to return. Before I left for college, the last few years I spent in this house were the hardest my family ever had to endure, and a lot of unpleasant memories rise to the surface when I come home.
“But?”
I want to be honest with him. “Everything was so chaotic here all the time when I was younger, and I always felt like I was trying to play by rules I didn’t understand. When he was using, my parents were preoccupied with Mike because they had to be. They were always fighting about how to handle him. And the rest of us were left to fend for ourselves.” Which meantIwas fending for all of us. “I get that it was necessary, but I wished things were different. I wanted things to make sense. I wanted rules. And I wanted adults and a big brother who followed those rules. Maybe it’s naïve and idealistic, but that’s where my head was when I decided to start studying family law.”
“I think the world could use a little more idealism,” he offers. “It’s admirable that you wanted to take the trauma and create something good from it.”
