Chapter 8 #2
“Me too.” I lean my head against her arm, turning toward the TV so she won’t see the tears welling in my eyes. “I love you.”
She presses a kiss to my head. “I love you too, sweet girl.”
“I love you most,” I whisper.
The doctor thinks we probably have a couple more years with her, but that knowledge doesn’t make it any easier. I’d give anything to slow the clock and guarantee more moments like this.
Spending most of yesterday with my mama was exactly the reset I needed before the beginning of a chaotic week.
My nerves are shot thinking about my looming “lesson” with Walker, or whatever we’re calling it.
He sent a text saying he’ll see me tonight, but he never specified whether that meant his place or mine.
He does have his own apartment attached to the ranch house, but his family can easily watch me come and go—Briar included—so I’m desperately hoping he plans to come to my house.
The other thing bothering me is that I’m unsure if he’s bringing condoms, or if that responsibility falls on me.
I’m on birth control, but I don’t know when Walker was last tested.
I could ask him, but that would only pile on to my humiliation, and asking Charlie or Wren is out of the question.
They’d never let me live it down, so being prepared is my only option.
Thankfully, I left for my shift at the feed store thirty minutes early this morning, giving myself time to pick up what I need before the day gets hectic.
I shift forward so Earl can hear me from the driver’s seat. “Can we swing by Town & Country Drugs? I want to grab something before work.”
He tips his cap with a nod. “Sure thing, Miss Birdie.”
Before I can register what’s happening, he swerves across the double-yellow lines, straight into the path of an oncoming SUV.
Horns blare as I clutch the door handle, bracing for impact that never comes.
We narrowly avoid a collision as the SUV screeches past, missing us by mere inches.
I’m jolted in my seat as our tires scrape the curb, the front wheel riding up onto the sidewalk, where Earl parks us on the side of the road.
In hindsight, I should have asked to stop at the drugstore before we were half a block away.
For a split second there, I thought I might die a virgin, only hours before I finally got to change that. The universe has a cruel sense of humor.
“We’re here,” Earl announces proudly, completely oblivious to the danger he just put us in. Bless his heart.
He hums his favorite Johnny Cash tune as he gets out and opens my car door.
“Thanks,” I manage, slinging my bag over my shoulder as I climb out, my legs shaky with nerves. “I’ll be quick.”
“I’m coming with you. I’m spending the night at Ethel’s, and she loves them fancy chocolates with the gold foil wrappers.” He pretends to unwrap an invisible chocolate and pop it into his mouth with exaggerated gusto.
Earl and Ethel have been seeing each other on and off for decades.
They don’t bother with labels, but they seem content, so who am I to judge?
I envy their ability to be unapologetically bold, not caring about what anyone thinks.
Me? I’m diving headfirst into a fake relationship to learn how to be less awkward around men and sneaking around buying condoms.
“Oh no, really, let me get the chocolates. You can wait in the car,” I chirp, my voice squeaking on the last word.
Earl gives me a dismissive wave. “That’s mighty kind of you, but she’s real particular about her chocolate. I’d better grab it myself to make sure I get the right one.”
My shoulders slump as I give him a small nod. “Yeah. That makes sense.”
I don’t want to push further and raise suspicion. Looks like I’ll just have to be extra stealthy inside, which obviously isn’t my strong suit. I wish Walker were here—I could really use his advice.
I’m not even flirting with anyone yet and I’m already making a mess of things.
I tug my bag up higher onto my shoulder as I walk into the store, Earl trailing close behind. Fortunately, the only other person in sight is Clark, the clerk, who gives me a friendly wave as I pass.
“Good morning, Birdie. Can I help you find anything?”
“Just looking around, thanks,” I say, then grab a basket.
Earl heads straight to the chocolate section, conveniently on the opposite side of the store from my target. To stay under the radar, I wander the aisles, feigning interest in a new pickle-flavored potato chip they recently got in, and then a lipstick display on an end cap near the aisle.
Once I notice Earl is distracted by a lively debate with Clark over milk versus dark chocolate, I make a beeline for the condoms. It won’t take long, and on my way to the register, I’ll toss a few extra items into my basket in case Earl decides to wait for me.
I’m confident about my plan—until I reach the condom aisle.
Dozens of options span multiple shelves, and I scan them frantically like my life depends on it.
Honestly, half of these labels might as well be in another language—Extra Sensitive, Ribbed for Pleasure, Strawberry-Flavored, Glow-in-the-Dark, Extra Large, Jumbo, Latex-Free… and the list goes on.
I pick up a purple box with a feather on it and read the description, wondering how I’m supposed to know if Walker has a sensitivity.
Next, I reach for one labeled Strawberry-Flavored with a kiss stamped on the front.
Do people really give blow jobs when the recipient is wearing one of these?
The last one I reach for is a pack of jumbo condoms. How am I supposed to know how big Walker is?
Do guys measure themselves? What’s the difference between Extra Large and Jumbo? Can a condom be too big?
I’m sweating bullets, clutching the boxes to my chest, painfully aware of just how out of my depth I am. Just as I’m ready to buy one of everything, my gaze drifts to the other side of the aisle, stacked with row after row of lubricant, and another wave of panic hits me.
I’m moving that way when my tote bag bumps the shelves behind me, sending a cascade of condom boxes tumbling to the tiled floor. The racket is so loud you’d think I’d dropped a bag of bricks instead of a pile of small boxes.
Before I can react, Earl charges down the aisle, alarm etched on his face, brandishing his chocolates like a weapon, with Clark right on his heels.
“Miss Birdie, are you all right?” he asks, his voice tight with concern.
“I’m fine!” I reply, my voice shooting up an octave. “I got turned around looking for shaving cream and accidentally knocked over some merchandise with my bag. Just me being clumsy.”
No chance they buy that pathetic excuse. I come here so often I could navigate the aisles blindfolded, and the layout hasn’t changed in over a decade.
Earl’s gaze sweeps over the boxes scattered at my feet before landing on the ones still clutched to my chest.
“I tried to catch some of the boxes before they hit the floor, but clearly, I failed spectacularly,” I blurt out, letting out a squeaky laugh.
I shift from foot to foot, cheeks burning hotter than the fluorescent lights above. My mind races through every possible way to fix this disaster, but I come up empty. My only hope is that Earl and Clark agree to play along before anyone else walks in.
“It’d be amazing if we could pretend this never happened,” I offer, silently pleading with my eyes.
I hold my breath, waiting for their response. If they don’t go along with my suggestion, the entire town will soon learn about my public embarrassment in the condom aisle.
Clark sidesteps Earl, dodging the fallen boxes, and reaches for the ones in my hands. I hesitantly let them go and watch as he tucks them into his apron pockets.
“Earl, show Birdie where the shaving cream is? I’ll clean all this up and meet you at the front when you’re ready to check out.”
My mouth hangs open in shock as Earl slips his arm through mine, steering me down the aisle.
“Come on, Miss Birdie. Let’s get what else you came for so you’re not late for work.
” He glances around to make sure we’re alone, then drops his voice to a whisper.
“You done picked some good options back there. Ethel swears by the ribbed ones if you want a suggestion on what to try first.” I could have gone my whole life without hearing that tidbit.
“Don’t worry,” Earl adds. “My lips are sealed tighter than a Mason jar.” He mimics locking his mouth and tossing away the key.
Maybe I should be horrified that my taxi driver is doling out advice on my sex life, but instead I’m relieved to have someone in my corner. Somehow, I trust Earl to keep this between us, and I couldn’t be more grateful.
The problem is, I can’t even buy condoms without creating a full-blown disaster. How am I supposed to get through sex without screwing that up too? At least I gave Walker fair warning that he’d regret this arrangement, and I suspect it’ll happen sooner than either of us expects.