Chapter 21
The next morning, I received a text message from an unknown number. That in itself doesn’t alarm me, but the contents of the message are concerning.
Unknown Number: What are you wearing?
Me: Uh. Who is this?
Unknown Number: Ben. I got your number from Emilia. Just wondering if you woke up and put your Fourth of July outfit back on. Then my imagination got away from me.
Me: That broad has no consideration for my safety, giving my number out all willy-nilly to men I barely know. And no, I'll never put that back on my body ever again. Consider it kindling for the fireplace.
Grass Daddy: Hmmm, too bad. Do you want to come over tonight after I get the kids to bed? Can we do what the kids are calling “Netflix and Chill”?
Me: One, aren’t you supposed to be playing it cool right now? Not texting me within ten hours of us parting? And, I think Netflix and Chill is code for hooking up. I’m guessing you didn’t know that because you're so old.
Grass Daddy: Listen, youngin. I know exactly what it means. I couldn’t stop thinking about you last night, and I want to see you again. I know I’m being forward and desperate, but I don’t know how many good years I have left, so I’m taking a risk.
Me: What time? I'll commit to Netflixing and TBD on the Chilling.
Grass Daddy: TBD?
Me: OMG.
Grass Daddy: Hey! I know what that one means. 9 p.m.? I’m not trying to hook up or hide you from the kids. It's just easier to talk if they aren’t around, creating chaos.
Me: I understand. I’ll be over. Just to hang out, ok?
Grass Daddy: Ok. I’ll keep my pants on. ;)
Around 8 p.m., I started to question who I thought I was earlier in the day when I agreed to leave the house after dark.
This is the time when I retreat to my bed, binge-watch TV, and scroll on my phone until the wee hours of the morning.
I wasn’t sure what to wear to Netflix and No Chill, so I opted for a casual tank top and some jean shorts.
I would never wear jeans at home to watch television, but I’m trying not to show up looking like a homeless person.
I’m not sure what I am expecting from this hangout.
I still don’t know if I like him like that.
Sure, the kiss made me feel something, but I think kissing anyone for the first time would have that effect on me.
It was probably mostly nerves. I’m not sure I’m attracted to him.
He is not someone I would normally go for in the looks department.
His messages today were definitely flirty and made me laugh.
He smells good, which is a high priority.
He is very sweet. And I really like the way his eyes twinkle when he smirks at me.
I can’t let myself get distracted by his smell. Why am I such a slut for the scent of a man? We’re just hanging out, and it doesn’t have to be that complicated. God knows, I could use some friends who aren’t retired.
I arrived at Ben’s house right on time. I don’t want to ring the bell or knock too loudly for fear of waking the children if they are sleeping, so I settle on standing there staring at the door. Apparently, that was good enough because Ben opens it while I am contemplating what to do.
“Hey, there. You want to come in?”
As I am still trying to remember how to act like a human, I just stare at him and say, “Yes.”
“Ok, you have to walk forward and enter.”
I roll my eyes and march through the door. “Where to?”
He points toward the living room and says, “I already have the Netflix up. I adjusted the settings to ‘no chill’ mode.”
“I believe this is what they call a ‘Dad Joke’?” I tell him with a little punch to his shoulder.
We walk to the living room together, and he gestures for me to have a seat. We both plop down on the couch facing the TV, with a respectable full cushion-length between us. We flip through some options and find a new release that’s been getting a lot of hype.
After getting it started, Ben says, “I haven’t sat on a couch and watched TV with a girl for a long time.”
I guess he is referring to his wife, and I have been wondering about her. What happened, and how long has she been gone? It’s probably not a good conversation starter, but seeing as it’s definitely not sexy, I take the opportunity to ask.
“What happened to…your wife?”
“Laura.”
“Yes, sorry. I never caught her name. You don’t have to tell me, I was just curious. Jenkins told me she had cancer.”
“Yes, lung cancer. And no, she never smoked. I don’t mind telling you.
She started having a terrible cough when she was pregnant with Taylen, and blamed it on the pregnancy and then blamed it on a virus.
She mentioned it to her doctor, who told her what she was experiencing wasn't normal and that they should do some testing. Long story short, they diagnosed her with lung cancer, but by the time they found it, the cancer had spread everywhere. It wasn’t safe for her to start any treatments while she was pregnant, and she wasn’t willing to terminate the pregnancy.
She knew the risks, and we talked about what would happen if it were too late by the time the baby was born.
She just couldn’t fathom the idea of not bringing her baby into the world, so we delayed treatment until after Taylen was born.
We also knew her cancer didn’t have a high success rate of being curable.
By the time Tay got here, there wasn’t much they could do because the cancer had spread so far.
We decided to do palliative care so she could be comfortable and enjoy the time she had with her kids.
She passed away when Taylen was about nine months old.
I reach out for Ben’s hand and say, “I’m so sorry. How unfair.”
He half smiles at me and responds, “I’m grateful for the time we had.
I’m grateful for my girls. Our families were great and helped us through it, and we survived.
I’m not going to say there haven’t been hard times.
I don’t even remember the first couple of months after she passed away.
I was walking around in a haze, just going through the motions.
We all miss her like crazy, but time has made it easier.
It also helps having three kids to raise by yourself leaves you very little time to sit around feeling sorry for yourself. ”
“Thanks for telling me. You didn’t have to.”
He smiles and says, “Thanks for asking. Most people are afraid to bring it up, like it will remind me. I don’t forget, and I like talking about her. She was the best thing in my life for many years, and now my girls are the best thing in my life.”
“You seem like a great dad. And your daughters are very sweet.”
He raises an eyebrow at me and asks, “Even Linden?”
“I like her spirit. I think she would be a great partner in crime, so I'll focus on building that type of relationship with her. I would hate to be on her shit list.”
“Me too. She scares me a little,” he laughs.
I realized I was still holding Ben’s hand and made a move to slip my hand away.
He grabbed my wrist and pulled me closer to him on the couch.
I looked over at him, taking in his profile as he watched the TV.
I find myself constantly looking at him, trying to decide if I find him attractive.
He definitely did things to my insides when we kissed; however, he is so different from anyone else I have dated.
He is a fully middle-aged man with a bit of a dad bod and a very Midwestern dude vibe.
Meaning, he’s always dressed casually, probably wears New Balances, has tools—and knows how to use them.
I’m guessing he eats potatoes with every meal.
He caught me staring at him and turned to face me so our lips were nearly touching.
I moved to turn my face, but the hand that wasn’t holding my hand came to rest on the side of my face.
There was an electric intensity between us as we looked into each other's eyes with only inches between our faces.
“I can’t stop thinking about our kiss the other night,” he says as he lightly runs his fingers over my cheek and down my neck.
I tried to suppress a shudder, but the sudden glint in his eyes let me know that he definitely clocked it.
He continued to lightly dance his fingers up and down my throat, sending full-body goosebumps to erupt all over.
“I think I have a little crush on you, Cassie, but I’m not sure it’s reciprocated. Tell me what you’re thinking."
Well, what I was thinking was: I don’t know if I’m attracted to you. It seems my head is confused, but my body is definitely not. I am not willing to share this thought with him, obviously. So instead, I lean in slightly toward his lips, and he meets me the rest of the way.
The kiss started off soft and sweet, like the one in his kitchen after the party.
It did not stay that way. Ben was pulling me on top of him, crashing his lips into mine.
Both of our hands were roaming each other's backs, sides, and stomachs.
After a few minutes of intense making out, his hands went underneath the hem of my shirt and were making their way toward my bra.
I felt his fingertips skim under the fabric of the cups, and a little moan escaped from my mouth.
I am acutely aware that we are in the living room of the house he shares with three young women, but people with kids have private time, so I figure this must be normal and fine.
I am definitely into this. He is a great kisser, and I want more. Just as I am about to lift my shirt off to give him easier access, I hear a crying noise coming from upstairs. We both freeze and listen.
“Maybe someone is having a bad dream. I’d better go check quickly. Don’t. Move.”
I climbed off of him and sat back onto the couch. I look at Ben, who is taking a deep breath as he runs his hand down his face. I saw him adjust himself and take another deep breath, clearly trying to gain some control over his body before heading upstairs.