“Argh! Change the subject please.”
“Okay. What movie do you want to watch? I need something with a guy I can masturbate to later so I’m voting for anything with a Chris or a Ryan,” Aspen says and finishes off her third slice. “Evans, Hemsworth, Pine or Gosling or Reynolds.”
I laugh at her. “My God you have no filter and no boundaries, do you?”
“I really do not.” Aspen burps, covering her mouth with a napkin then giving me a sheepish smile. “I hope the baby doesn’t inherit that. He or she will be a tyrant as a teen.”
“But they’ll be an amazing, fun friend when they’re an adult,” I reply and wink at her as I take the last bite of my second piece of pizza.
I’m full. Aspen seems to be too, so I move the rest of the pizza to the counter and grab her bag of donuts. “Let’s hit the couch and find a Chris or Ryan movie on Netflix.”
She follows me, carrying the water jug and my phone. As we browse, I try not to think about the fact that the phone hasn’t buzzed with a response. Logan answered quickly before, but he’s at work and could easily get sidetracked by a call or something. Or maybe he’s just trying to figure out how to get out of this. Maybe he thinks it’s not appropriate to hang out with me. Maybe he’s not interested.
I feel Aspen staring at me. I turn and meet her gaze. “I don’t mean to pressure you about Logan or dating.”
“I know.”
She shifts, curling her legs up under her. “I can’t even imagine how hard it would be to put yourself out there again after losing your husband.”
“It’s not easy, but it’s been five years,” I say quietly and swirl my wine in my glass. “I’m lonely. It’s time.”
“You’re sure? Because you don’t have to say that just because I’m an overbearing sex maniac,” Aspen replies, a guilty grin across her wide, full mouth.
“I’ve dipped my toe back in the dating sea a couple times. It just never worked out,” I think back to last night when I shared the information with Logan that both my parents were dead. “I just…I am the epitome of a sob story. Between my parents both dying before I was out of my twenties and being widowed at twenty-seven, it doesn’t exactly make casual dating casual. Guys find out these tidbits of info and get freaked out. Or worse, treat me like a delicate flower that’s had all the petals pulled off.”
“I know,” Aspen sympathizes and she lifts her swollen feet up to put them on the furry ottoman. “And I know it’s hard to avoid the questions. They’re part of the Getting to Know You Handbook. Where’re you from? Tell me about your family? Tell me about your ex? Blah, blah, blah.”
I sigh and nod and stare at the TV, not really reading the movie descriptions. Aspen sits up straighter and turns to face me. “If I were you, I would lie.”
I blink away from the TV and slide my eyes to her. “Lying is not a way to start something. Whether it be a friendship or anything else.”
“I know. However, I’m only talking white lies. Or, like, just be vague, to start with. Not forever.” Aspen bites her bottom lip, deep in thought for a moment and then her eyebrows raise excitedly. “Like just say you used to have a husband. You don’t have to say he’s dead. People will assume you’re divorced. Everyone is divorced. Then, later, if like things progress and you and Logan have potential, the truth can be told.”
“Yeah…maybe. I’m not great at vague,” I reply, but now she’s making me rethink my ‘honesty is the best policy’ way of life.
“Look, I know Logan, and I don’t think he would give a rat’s ass about your past because his is pretty fucked up, too,” Aspen replies and purses her lips as she thinks about it for a second. “But because he’s also your tenant, and you can’t exactly ghost him if this doesn’t turn into anything, I just think keeping it vague will make it easier on you in the long run. Like how I keep the father of this watermelon vague.”
“It’s more like a really big cantaloupe,” I tell her and her smile says she thinks I’m placating her. “When is the melon due again?”
“A little over three months to go.” Aspen sighs. “By then they may have to take off the roof to airlift me out of my house for the delivery.”
Without a second’s hesitation she reaches for the bag of donuts on the coffee table and holds it open at me. I grab the powdered sugar jelly donut and she takes the Boston cream one. I lift my donut in a cheers gesture and tap it against hers. “There’s always the home birth option.”
She grins and then my phone pings.
Both Aspen and I lunge for it. I slap her hand away when she gets there first, which makes Boss bark from where he’s watching us on the floor. “Relax Boss I’m not hurting Aspen.”
“Like he cares. I swear that dog would chew my throat out if you’d let him,” Aspen says.
I read Logan’s response twice before I share it out loud.
“He’s in for brunch,” I say and read his message verbatim. “You don’t have to thank me but I’ll never turn down a brunch date with you. What can I bring?”
Aspen squeals so loud it reminds me I’m concussed. I wince. She reaches over and squeezes my arm. “Sorry! I’m just psyched for you. Tell him to bring his swim trunks so he can scrub your back again.”
“Ha ha.” I send Logan a quick response and tell him not to bring a thing.
“You’re right. I’m kidding,” Aspen says and sips her wine. “The next time you two shower together, I don’t want there to be clothes.”
