"Busy. You?"
"Same."
This was ridiculous. We were seasoned adults, not teenagers or young twenty-somethings. We had sex—enthusiastically—and it was extremely satisfying, and now we couldn't talk, behaving like awkward acquaintances.
"Tallulah—"
"Jamison—"
We spoke at the same time and stopped at the same time. He gestured for me to continue.
"I wanted to say that we don't have to be weird about what happened."
"Agreed. We had sex."
"Yes."
He tapped his finger on the counter. "I just wanted to come by and drop off the bracelet. I didn't want you to be looking for it."
"I appreciate your thoughtfulness."
He ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture I was beginning to recognize meant he was uncomfortable or unsure of himself.
He lowered his voice. "Look, I know we didn't discuss what will happen next, and the timing of us meeting and hooking up is complicated by our kids planning a wedding?—"
The door opened again, and we both turned our heads. Blossom walked in with her laptop bag over one shoulder. She stopped short when she saw Jamison, eyebrows lifting in surprise.
"Hi, Mr. Harris." Her eyes darted between us. "What are you doing here?"
"I was..."
"He had questions about which kinds of teas would be beneficial for him to drink," I said, proud of myself for saving him, not proud of lying.
Blossom frowned. "Really? Manuel told me once that you didn't like tea. You said it was for people whose taste buds couldn't appreciate coffee."
"My son tends to exaggerate," Jamison said with an embarrassed laugh.
"He said if you had a choice, you'd inject coffee into your veins and toss all the tea into the sea like they did at the Boston Tea Party."
I stared at Jamison. Why in the world did he hate tea so much?
"Again, a bit of an exaggeration," Jamison said.
"But didn't you?—"
"Blossom," I said, interrupting to save him.
She had the same analytical mind as her father and wouldn't stop until Jamison's answer coincided with what Manuel had told her about his father. I also needed to speak up since I was the one who had come up with what I thought was the perfect lie. I had no idea I was dealing with an anti-tea activist.
"He's slowly exploring options and learning about the health benefits. What areyoudoing here?" I asked my daughter.
"I was at the library doing research and came by to see if you had anything to eat so I wouldn’t have to drive all the way home."
To get out of the house, she had been going to the library while job hunting online. Fortunately for me, she had not pushed for more information after I came home late on Saturday night. She did watch me with suspicion as we ate breakfast on Sunday but never broached the topic of my alleged sexual exploits.
"I have pasta salad and half a tomato sandwich in the little refrigerator in the break room. You can have both," I said.
"Cool. Thanks."
