“Are you okay, honey?” Margaret pauses with concern on her kindly face. “You look out of it. Are you sick?”
I snap back to the present, and smile.
“No, not at all. Well, maybe a tiny bit. I had ice cream for breakfast after the kids left this morning.”
My mom giggles.
“Oh sweetheart, that’s so terrible! You know all that sugar isn’t good for you. It’s okay though. You’re on vacation and deserve to cheat a little. A serving of ice cream won’t hurt you.”
I smile and nod, even as my stomach does a small flip. I wasn’t making that up actually. The ice cream is doing a turn in my stomach, and I quickly excuse myself to use the bathroom.
But hanging out with my parents doesn’t take my mind off Ryan. I miss him all afternoon and I miss him at dinner. I sleep that night, dreaming that his big bronzed body is in bed with me, and his lips on my own.
I wake up in the morning to a chirp on my phone, and reach lazily for the handset. There’s a text from Ryan, and my heart pumps.
Good morning, beautiful. Enjoy yourself, and the two weeks will be over soon enough.
He’s read my mind, and I text a heart emoji back. Oh god, hopefully that wasn’t too sappy. Unfortunately, the message has already been sent, so I can’t take it back.
Then, the phone rings again, and I see that it’s my friend Denise. I fall back onto the bed and yawn loudly.
“Hey girl!” I put on my best impression of a cheery voice. “What’s up?”
Denise immediately begins chattering away.
“First, let me apologize deeply for not being the living demigod who’s been ruining you for all other men the past three weeks. I know you actually want to talk to him, and not me.”
“God Denise, it’s fine,” I laugh. “You’ll do.” One sentence and she’s cheered me up.
“Well, I may not be your bazillionaire boyfriend,” she says. “So I can only get a… what do they call it when people smoke pot around you and it affects you?”
“Contact high?”
“How do you know that? What are you doing that I don’t know about?”
I laugh and say, “You caught me. I’ve been smoking marijuana in great and copious amounts. Not. You know I never smoke.”
Denise tsks-tsks a bit.
“You should sometimes because it’s soooo good. But anyways, since I don’t have a megazillionaire boyfriend, I can only experience it through a contact high. I’m living vicariously through you, girlfriend!” she squeals.
I laugh too.
“Well, I’m not sure if I’d call him my boyfriend just yet, but we can talk about that later. What’s up? Are we having lunch?”
“No sirree,” Denise says. “Dinner. Your treat.”
“Why is it my treat?” I laugh again.
“Hello?!?! Gazillionaire boyfriend! Didn’t we just talk about that? Doesn’t he give you a stipend of some sort especially for times like this? You know, lazy lunches with your girlfriends, sexy lingerie, high heels that make him …”
I cut her off.
“He pays my salary, and yes, he did give me a stipend for vacation, but he didn’t say what I should use it on.”
She squeals.
“Oh my god, it’s just like in the movies! You’re getting money to sleep with him! How many orgasms have you had in the last week?”
“Stop Denise,” I say, still laughing. “Please.”
“Ten? Twenty? Thirty? Stop acting like some kind of virgin,” she mock-scolds. “By the way, where are you taking me tonight?”
“How about Jacinto’s?” I ask. “They have the best frozen margaritas.”
I can practically see her head bobbing up and down with eagerness.
“Absolutely girlfriend. You know I love that frozen chocolate margarita with the whipped cream on top.”
To be honest, that sounds disgusting to me, but I just giggle.
“I love you, Denise,” I say.
“I love you too,” she sing-songs, “but you’re still buying me dinner!”
We hang up after a few minutes of conversation about my parents, her family, whether she should adopt a dog, or if I think a cat would be a better choice. I don’t think I’ve ever looked forward to a meal with Denise more than I do now. I wrack my brain trying to decide where to start because I want to tell her all about Ryan. She knows that I love him already, because I’ve kept her up to date on my life when I can. But this is a time for us to share details. I even want to tell her how he moves above me, how his lips feel against my neck while his hands explore me, how he does something with his fingertip where it presses against …
No, I can’t. Denise may be my best friend, but what I feel for Ryan is very real, and somehow, it would spoil it to share everything with my friend. I’ll just keep to generalities, and leave it at that. Hopefully, Denise will chatter on about whatever guy she’s been seeing lately.