6. Izzy
Izzy
I wake up flailing, startled by my ringtone.
My sleep last night, once I returned home in the middle of the night, was fitful at best. That in itself isn’t unusual, but it’s extra annoying right now because the few hours I spent sleeping in Zach’s arms were some of the most restful I’ve ever had.
I don’t know if it was the sex, having his warm body draped over mine, or some combination of the two.
But if there was a pill version of that kind of sleep, I’d get myself a prescription ASAP.
I scoop my phone off the nightstand a moment before the last “Oh” in my Hockey Song by Zombie Nation ringtone.
“Hello?” Yikes, my voice is scratchy.
“Isabelle? Are you feeling alright?”
“I’m fine, Daddy. You just woke me up.”
“Woke you up? It’s past noon. Are you sure you’re feeling okay? I could stop by with some soup or something, if you need it.”
Past noon? Well, shit. Maybe I slept better than I thought.
“No, really I’m fine. Just a late night is all.”
“Oh, yeah?” I can hear the excitement in my dad’s voice. “I’m so glad you’ve made friends with those sweet girls. It’s good for you to be out having fun like a girl your age should.”
“'A girl my age?' Daddy, I turned 30 this summer.”
“I know.” He huffs. “I’m proud of you is all I’m trying to say.”
I cringe, since I wasn’t actually out with the girls last night. I was having mind-blowing sex with a stranger.
And now I’m thinking of sex while on the phone with my dad, and I have to suppress a shudder.
“Were you just calling to check in, or did you need my help with something?”
“Nothing pressing. I wanted to see if you’d be free to join me for lunch on Monday. I have a few meetings in the morning, but - if you wanted to meet me at the office - we could head out together.”
I rub some more sleep from my eyes. “That’d be great.”
“Good.” I can hear the smile in his voice. “I know you’ve been busy with your fancy new career, so I appreciate you making time for your old father.”
“Yeah, yeah. You’re a helpless old man alright.” I hear him chuckle. “I actually have a few meetings at the practice offices myself, so lunch would work perfectly with my schedule.”
“Wonderful. I’ll see you then. Love you, Peanut.”
“Love you, too. Bye, Daddy.”
Groaning, I grab my stuffed Sleet Yeti mascot and bury my face in his fuzzy white fur.
I push away the guilt I feel at letting my dad think I was with the girls last night.
My dad and I have always been close. He was my best friend for most of my life.
Honestly, that was true up until last year when I became friends with Meghan, Katelyn and Steph.
But as close as we are, sex is not a topic I want to talk to my dad about.
Like never ever. Especially not casual, one-night-stand sex.
When my past relationships failed, I just told him that it didn’t work out.
I never divulged the details about how both of those guys were using me to get to him.
If I did, he would’ve somehow turned the blame onto himself, and I didn’t want him feeling culpable over something that was not his fault.
I know some people think it’s weird that we’re so close. And I’ve seen the sideways looks that I sometimes get when people hear me, a gown adult, call him Daddy. But I’ve learned to ignore it.
When I was four, my mom left us. She and my dad were never married; they had only just started dating when she got pregnant. I think they tried to make it work, but Dad doesn’t like to talk about her.
She never said anything to me before she left, but I overheard her and my dad fighting.
I was too young to understand all of it, but I heard enough to get the big picture.
She didn’t want to have a family. She was too young to be a mom.
She didn’t want to be a coach’s wife. She hated moving around all the time.
I think she went back down south somewhere.
I know she grew up in Texas, but I don’t know where.
Of course it hurts that she didn’t want me. Didn’t want us. But if she couldn’t put the time in to care about me, then I wasn’t going to put the time in to be sad about her.
We were partners in crime even before she left us, so after she was gone our bond grew even tighter. It wasn’t always easy, but my dad gave me a great childhood.
I can still remember the day in 3 rd grade when he came to pick me up after school and my classmates heard me call him Daddy.
The next day I was teased mercilessly for being a baby .
When I got home that night, I called him Dad for the first time ever and his eyes got as sad as they had when mom left.
From that moment forward, I vowed to always call him Daddy, other people be damned.
When I got older, I was able to recognize that he was just sad about me growing up. He would’ve been okay with whatever I called him.
Thankfully, we moved again at the end of that school year, so I didn’t have to put up with the teasing for long.
I go back and forth on what I call him when I’m talking to other people, but when I’m talking to him, I always call him Daddy.
If someone cares about me enough to know the story, then they won’t tease me.
And if they don’t care to know me well enough, then screw them.
Meghan has gotten me firmly on the F- The Haters band-wagon. Life is too short to deal with bullies.
A couple of months ago, I told the girls the whole detailed story. We’d been drinking and by the end of it, they were all crying, we were all hugging, and then we drunkenly called our parents to tell them how much we loved them. It was pathetic. And it's one of my most favorite memories.
I’m about to finally roll out of bed when my phone rings again. It's Meghan calling; I smile.
“Good morning, Meghan.”
“Is it?” She says suggestively. “Or is it the afternoon? You sex kitten, you.”
This is Meghan. She can’t see me. And yet I’m blushing.
My lack of answer must worry her.
“You did have sex, right? Or was he super fucking weird? Damnit, he was a fucking weirdo, wasn’t he? I knew he was too hot. It’s okay, we can try again. We’ll pick a nerd next time.”
I start to laugh. “Reign in the crazy, girl. We don’t need to try again .”
“Does that mean what I think it means? Did you get laid last night?”
“Yes!” I squeak .
“YEEHAW!” Meghan yells so loud I pull the phone away from my ear and change it on speaker. “Way to ride him, cowgirl!”
I don’t even know how to respond to that. Meghan, of course, reads into my silence.
“Wait, oh my god, did you literally ride him cowgirl style? Holy shit, that’s amazing!”
“What, no!” I slap a hand over my face. “That’s not what we did.”
“Ugh, don’t tell me he was lame in bed. Did it suck? Wait, no, with his looks it couldn’t suck, but it could have been just okay. Was it just okay?” She keeps going like a loony person.
“Meghan.” I try to get her attention.
“Details, woman! Give me some fucking details!” Meghan is starting to sound annoyed with my lack of sharing.
“Okay, okay, chill your tits. It was really good.” My mind flashes back to the moment he pressed into me against the wall. “It was really, really good.” My voice sounds a little breathy, even to me. Crap.
“ Oh baby ! You just got all hot and bothered remembering it, didn’t you? Hold on.”
And then she’s gone. Like totally silent. I think she put me on mute. What a brat.
I take this reprieve to start my morning ritual. Even though it’s after noon, I still need to start my day out with coffee.
Scooping out my grounds, I inhale the delicious smell.
Coffee is my biggest vice. Well, one of them.
I love everything about the process of making and consuming the beverage, but I do not love drinking it black.
I use about a third of my mug space for flavored creamer.
Probably doesn’t help with my weight struggles, but straight up bean juice just isn’t my thing.
My pot is about halfway through brewing when Meghan comes back on the phone .
“Izz, you still there?”
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“Perfect. I have Katelyn and Steph on the line.”
“What?!” My voice comes out an octave higher.
“Hey Izzy!” Katelyn’s chipper voice says, followed by Steph’s, “Hey!”
“Umm, hi guys. What’s going on?”
“ You , dummy.” Meghan sounds incredulous. “I could tell this story was gonna get good. I figured it would be easier if we all heard it at the same time.”
I can hear the excitement in Steph’s voice.
“I came over to have lunch with Jackson and Katelyn so the timing couldn’t be better!
Don’t worry, we kicked Jackson out of the room, so he won’t hear anything.
He tried to put up a fight, but when I explained to him just how graphic we get in our retelling, he left. ”
Katelyn laughs, “He gave me quite a bit of side-eye on his way out. He’s probably wondering how much you guys know about him.”
Steph starts to say something but Meghan cuts her off. “Women, focus! Izzy, we need details. Like from start to finish. I know you were nervous on the way to the bar, but clearly you found a way to seal the deal.”
“You guys, this is embarrassing.” I groan. “I feel like these chats are better when we’re half drunk and not ten minutes after waking up.”
“Damn girl!” Katelyn whoops out a cheer. “He must have kept you up all night.”
I face-palm myself. “Okay, fine. Clearly you’re all going to jump to conclusions if I don’t get this over with. Just… let me do this without interruptions?”
“Hold all questions to the end, please -” Meghan says in her faux teacher voice .
“Okay.” I take a deep breath. “So, you know we were meeting at that hotel bar. The place is super funky, and when I didn’t see him, I looked around at the art.
Interesting art. There was this statue of two people having sex standing up.
And not like standing doggy style, but like facing each other. ”
“Hot.” I hear Meghan say before someone shushes her.