“Sore abs and throat?” he asks.
I grin.
“I’m sure you don’t know firsthand, but when you ride a guy for a long time, your abdominal muscles ache for a day or two, like a really good workout. The sore throat is usually from all the moans and screaming.”
He gulps a bite of donut down and grins.
“I see. Very interesting.”
I shrug.
“I’m twenty-five, so I’m no virgin. And as I was saying, I love it. But I also understand what you’re trying to express. Sometimes the best days are the ones you spend in bed reading the news, drinking coffee, and listening to Vivaldi.”
“You like classical music?”
I smile and sip my coffee.
“I like all sorts of things. That’s for you to find out.”
“And I like learning that about you,” he smiles and the energy in his eyes makes me shiver. The electricity in the room is palpable. I don’t want to ruin his laidback dating theory, but I am so close to begging him to take me right on the couch, that I’m-
A knock at my door interrupts my lascivious thoughts. He jumps a mile and I holler at the door, “Who is it?”
“It’s me, honey,” Harlow answers.
“And me!” her daughter Fannie shouts.
Brent whispers, “Oh, shit. I need to hide!”
“But my place is too small to hide in,” I whisper back.
“I’ll go in your closet, I —”
Harlow calls, “Everything okay in there? Did you know that my dad’s car is in the parking lot? I wonder why he’s in the neighborhood?”
I throw up my hands and give up. There’s no way to get around it now. I open the door, “Hey, everyone!”
The kids scurry in and jump onto their grandfather before squealing when they see the donuts. Harlow laughs and eyes us with confusion.
“Hey Dad. Hey Jane. What is going on? Why are you here?”
Brent looks calm and improvises like a master.
“I found Jane on the side of the highway. Car trouble.”
I am so happy he’s smart. I nod furiously.
“Yeah, this morning, I woke up with a hankering for Dreiser’s so I drove out to the airport, and on my way back, my car broke down. Your dad happened to be driving by, and he helped me. Then he followed me back to make sure I got home okay.”
Harlow nods.
“Sure, but what was wrong with your car?”
My mouth opens and closes a few times because I don’t know anything about automobiles. But Brent steps in for the rescue again.
“It was nothing,” he says. “Just a little sputter in the engine, but it’s all good now.”
Harlow still looks a little skeptical at that explanation, but she nods.
“Thanks for being a Good Samaritan, Daddy.”
“Anytime,” he nods. I smile brightly as well.
“So, it’s only right that I pay my hero for his good deeds with Dreiser’s. That’s why he’s here eating with me. Aren’t these donuts good, kids?”
Fannie and Freddie clap their hands while taking big bites of chocolate donut, getting frosting smeared all over their chubby faces. But Harlow stares at me again.
She notes, “Your hair is wet, Jane. Didn’t you just say you came in from the airport?”
“Yeah, um, but I felt a little dirty after all that car trouble, so I stepped into the shower.”
Harlow nods and squints. “Okay.” But then she turns to her dad. “But Daddy, didn’t you have a meeting in Boston on Monday? You were going to fly out right?”
Oh shit! What do we say now? But fortunately, Brent’s quick on his feet.
“Yes, honey, but I got a call that the meeting was called off. That’s why I was on my way to the airport when I saw Jane by the side of the road. Everything worked out.”
Harlow merely nods again.
“What a weird coincidence,” she remarks casually.
I start to freak out, but try to keep it inside.
“So what brings you here, Har?” I ask casually, biting into another donut. “Is everything good?”
She rolls her eyes.
“I’ve been texting you for the last twenty minutes to let you know. I want to borrow your leather jacket. Dad, can you keep an eye on the kids?”
“Of course,” Brent smiles, holding a hand out to the kids. “Come on Frannie and Freddie. Who wants to play a game of chicken?”
The kids squeal as Harlow takes my hand and drags me into my bedroom before shutting the door. Then she pins me with a look.
“What is going on? For real this time?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Harlow.”
“I’m getting the same feeling I had before my parents finally told me they were getting a divorce. What is happening? Are you two planning something?”
“What would we be planning? You sound paranoid. My car broke down, that’s all.”
But Harlow won’t let it go.
“Oh my god! You are planning something! You know I hate surprise birthday parties, Jane, please don’t.”
This is a golden opportunity to divert the conversation because her birthday is a month away, and I can run with this. I start to giggle. “You mean you don’t want to relive your thirteenth birthday party, where you peed yourself when everyone shouted, ‘Surprise’?”