Me: I guess that’s understandable…
Me: But… she hardly ACTS like a kid… IF you catch my drift ((wink wink)).
Matthew: You did NOT just do that
Me: I’m not sure what you’re getting at?????
Matthew: “If you catch my drift” – then WINK
Me: LOL.
Matthew: That’s something a dude would say. Are you sure you don’t have any brothers?
Me: Hold on - let me check ((looks behind living room couch)) Nope. No brothers.
Matthew: And you call ME a smart ass?
I’m so tempted to respond with ‘at least it’s a nice, firm one,’ but I don’t. Instead, I giggle to myself and type: So. Switching gears: Halloween is coming up…
Matthew: Ahh, yes. Every skanks favorite holiday. Not sure what the plans are. I’m getting kind of old to be out on State Street, you know…?
Me: Yeah, me too. Not into it, never really was. Second year we’re going to my friend’s house party – much much classier than State Street…
Matthew: Who’s ‘we’?
Me: Some of my sorority sisters – another alum owns the house. Beautiful, on Lake Michigan. She’s married with a baby, but they’ve been doing this bash every year…
Me: Molly, Weston, Jenna, Abby – and whoever else Wes invites. Some people go in disguise, like a masquerade.
Matthew: So, what were you last year? (Please say Naughty Referee)
Me: Um – can you seriously picture me as a Naughty anything?
Matthew: Why are you even asking such an absurd question? Of course I can – it’s my job as a guy to picture you naked.
Me: Well, if you haven’t noticed, I’m pretty conservative, so…
Matthew: Ok. So what were you? (Please don’t say Harry Potter)
Me: LOL. No. God no. I was Laura Croft, Tomb Raider.
Matthew: Um, that sounds sexier than a Naughty Referee… I’m going to close my eyes and picture that for a second.
Me: STOP IT! LOL. Here’s a pic
I scroll through the Gallery of images on my cell phone, find a photo of myself from last year’s Halloween party, and attach it. My costume was pretty simple really – tight black tank top, hair in a long side braid. Tight brown safari shorts with gun holster garter belts… I look ready to kick someone’s ass, Angelina Jolie style.
Matthew: Ummmmm. Holy shit. That. Is. Hot.
Me: Yup. Hot. That’s me ((rolling my eyes)). You like the gun holsters, huh?
Matthew: They pretty much do it for me, yes.
Uncomfortable with the sexual undertones, I change the subject.
Me: So what were you last year?
Matthew: Something dumb. A group of us went as army men. You know, the plastic toy kind we played with as kids. Huge pain in the ass cause we had these stupid boards strapped
Matthew: on our feet to make us look like toys. It was my friend Scott’s girlfriend’s dumb idea. Which was better than his dumb idea to go as the gang from Scooby Do.
Me: Army men doesn’t sound that lame… a pain in the ass maybe, but not lame.
Matthew: If you say so…
Matthew: So. This classy party isn’t a masquerade or anything, is it? That means you’re in a disguise right?
Me: Like, do we have to wear a mask? No. I mean – you can if you WANT to. LOL. It’s not like you can’t figure out who anyone is. Unless you’re a complete moron, of course…
Matthew: Sounds fun.
Me: Yup. Should be interesting…
Matthew: Sounds like a good place for a little… You know. Canoodling.
Me: DON’T YOU DARE
Matthew: No worries, Cecelia.
Matthew: You’re coming to Sunday dinner this week, right?
Me: Um…. Not willingly.
Matthew: You’ve really got to stop letting Molly manipulate you.
Me: POT TO KETTLE
Matthew: Actually, family dinner sounds like a good place too, right after you pass me the mash potatoes…
Me: You wouldn’t...
Matthew: Who knows - maybe you’ll want a second helping.
Me: I hate you.
CHAPTER 20
MATTHEW
“Cherish the time spent with your family at dinner as a reminder of why you moved far, far away from them…”
– Cecelia Carter
I fix the collar on my polo shirt in my parent’s powder room, unbuttoning the top button before giving myself yet another once over.
Too much chest hair, or not enough?
Hmm. I can’t decide.
I mean – it’s dinner at my folk’s place. If I have my pecs hanging out, Mom and Dad are seriously going to wonder what my problem is, and probably call me out in front of everyone at the table. On the other hand… I kind of want to drive Cecelia a little bit crazy. After all, I have seen her covertly checking me out a few times and know she’s totally into my body.
Even though she won’t admit it.
I fiddle with the button a few more times, and decide to leave it. A little skin never hurt anyone.
I wash my hands one more time (eyeing myself in the oval mirror the entire time), dry them on the navy blue towel hanging next to the sink, and smooth a few stray hairs on my head.