So why did it still feel like I’d just been kicked in the balls?
42
PEYTON
“I hopethe kids dance this year.” Bianca scrunched her nose as we stacked red Solo cups up on the drink station to set up for the Valentine’s Day dance.
I was in charge of refreshments, so I made Nonna’s “Fancy Punch” which was made with Sprite, Hawaiian Punch, and sherbet ice cream. Technically the saint inspired holiday wasn’t until Monday, but the school dance was on Friday.
“They didn’t dance last year?”
“No, but I think that had more to do with the DJ. This year,Itook care of securing the entertainment, and my DJ assured me he would not be playing Baby Shark.”
I froze. “They did not play Baby Shark.”
The school was K-8 which meant some of the students were preteens and a few were teens. I doubted a ton of them attended a school dance that was also catering to five-year-olds, but still you had to play to your audience.
“They did. But last year the DJ was hired by the PTA who is run by Daria St. Royce, who hired the DJ she had for her son’sthirdbirthday party. When confronted with the hiring of ‘Baby Shark DJ’ her defense was that she wanted clean music. I argued that there was a lot of music that fell between Baby Shark and WAP.”
“WAP?” I filled the ladle of fruit punch and poured it in my cup before taking a sip to check to see if it needed more Sprite or ice cream.
“By Cardi B.” Bianca checked my eyes to see if there were any signs of recognition. There weren’t. “It stands for wet ass pussy.”
I choked on my punch causing some of it to retreat north and come out my nose. Bianca, wholly unfazed by my punch spouting nostrils handed me a napkin.
Thank god no kids were here yet. Although, if they were Bianca wouldn’t have said what she did. Probably.
“Yeah, I’d say there’s definitely some middle ground between those,” I agreed as I wiped my face.
“I know, right?” She nodded before she snapped her fingers. “Oh, I’ve been meaning to ask, how’s your grandmother?”
“Good, she’s doing good.” It had been two weeks since I found her unresponsive in her bed. Every day she seemed like she was doing a little better, getting a little stronger. “She’s up and around, doing physical therapy and I have a nurse that comes and stays with her when I’m at work and is on call if I need nights or evenings, like tonight. Nonna’s not happy about it, she says she doesn’t need a babysitter. But I told her that she’s there for me, for my peace of mind. She scared the shit out of me.”
“Wow, in-home care, that can’t be cheap.”
“I’m sure it’s not, but apparently it’s covered by Medicare.”
I was surprised when I got a call from a representative from the in-home care service to set up interviews with nurses on the day Nonna was discharged. I thought there had to be a mistake. But apparently, she qualified for a program that covered it.
Bianca and I stood and chatted as kids and parents began to trickle in. I noticed that the moms chaperoning looked like they should be going to the Grammy’s not an elementary school dance.
I’d worn a simple red silk shirt and black slacks. These women looked like they should be on a red carpet, and I suddenly felt very underdressed. “Was there a dress code I didn’t know about?”
Bianca chuckled. “It’s the ESD effect.”
“I’m sorry?” Was this another WAP situation? I’d only found out that BDE stood for big dick energy last year.
“Eligible Single Dads. We have a handful of them, including your ex, and it brings out the hunter in these women. Backless, low-cut dresses and f-u-c-k me heels are their weapons of choice.”
“Oh, right.”
“What’s up with you two, anyway? Is he the reason that you’re not wearing that fat rock from preppy boy?”
“No. He’s not the reason.” I glanced down at my bare left hand. “Nothing’s going on between us.” Sadly.
Maddox and I had been texting over the past couple of weeks, and I’d seen him at pickup and drop-off a few times but we hadn’t really talked. I’d been busy getting Nonna home, settled, and taking her back and forth to doctor’s appointments and physical therapy and spending time with Lina.
Things had been strange between us after he saw the ring on my finger, even after I explained that I wasn’t engaged. The night at the hospital, he’d dropped me off at my house without another word about the situation. I’d thought he would have wanted to talk about it, maybe get further clarification, but he hadn’t.
