Chapter Twenty-One
They slept for an hour or so after the laughing fit, then they woke up to make love again. After that, they were rightfully starving and Mike pulled on a pair of joggers to raid the kitchen. He brought back the fruit and cheese plate, along with sandwiches he’d made out of the cold chicken, and one of the bottles of wine. Neither of them could be bothered to reheat the actual meal.
They ate it in bed with their fingers, Sophie wearing one of his shirts, her hair sticking up at wild angles. He was afraid to look in a mirror. He probably didn’t look any better. For once, though, he wasn’t concerned about getting anything on the sheets while he ate.
Sophie took a big bite of her sandwich, a napkin spread over her lap, which Mike thought was pretty funny since she wasn’t actually wearing any clothes. ‘This chicken is really good.’
Mike lounged on the bed, slicing the Brie one-handed. ‘I did have an actual dinner planned. A whole date, even.’
‘So, what did I miss?’
Mike used the knife to slide the hunk of Brie onto a slice of apple. ‘Well, first, I was going to invite you in and hope you didn’t notice that I was so nervous I was basically covered in sweat. I’d planned on distracting you away from this very obvious fact by showing you my post-dinner cheese plate.’
‘Good plan,’ Sophie said, setting down her sandwich on the napkin so she could sip her wine. ‘That would have worked. I’m often hypnotized by cheese.’
‘Who isn’t?’ Mike asked, tossing a grape towards his mouth, only for it to hit the side of his face and land unceremoniously on the duvet.
Sophie picked up the grape and held it out to him.
‘That’s probably the least hygienic grape ever. Do you know where this bedspread has been? Because I do.’ He leaned forward and snatched the grape with his teeth.
‘Then why did you eat it?’
‘I’m a filthy man.’ He grabbed another bit of cheese.
‘Okay then, filthy man. What else?’
‘While the chicken was resting, a little dancing. I made a playlist. A little salsa in the kitchen. Then dinner, where I would regale you with charming anecdotes about my life.’
‘Like what?’
‘I don’t know, I don’t have any. I’d planned on either making some up or deflecting and asking you questions about your life.’
‘Hm, yes, good plan.’ She finished off her sandwich.
‘Then, if things were going really well, I was going to ask if you wanted to watch a movie and work my courage up to holding your hand. My first bold move to seduction.’
She almost choked on her sandwich. ‘First bold move, huh? What would you call that thing we did on the couch in my flat?’
‘Hot, that’s what I’d call it.’ He finally abandoned the cheese in favour of his sandwich.
They ate quietly for several moments, enjoying each other’s company, before a question occurred to Sophie. ‘Were you really nervous?’
‘Terrified,’ Mike said. ‘I wanted this to go well.’ He canted his head, gazing up at her. ‘Did it?’
‘Spectacularly well,’ Sophie said. ‘A couple of times.’
He laughed before remembering something she’d said earlier. ‘Hey, what did you mean when you said, “It was one of those kinds of dinners”?’
‘Something my friend Edie said when I mentioned your invite. She asked if it was a proper dinner or the kind where we’d have sex against the hallway wall.’
Mike blinked, his half-eaten sandwich only part way to his mouth. ‘Is Edie psychic?’
‘No,’ Sophie said. ‘A little terrifying at times, and you don’t want to cross her, but not psychic.’
‘Because that wasn’t my plan at all.’ He took a sip of wine, setting the glass back on the bedside table when he was finished. ‘It was that dress’s fault. As well as your underthings. And the sight of you in them.’ He fell back onto the bed, slinging his arm over his eyes with a groan. ‘I was basically all over you as soon as you walked in the door, pawing you like an animal.’
Sophie bit into one of the apple slices, the flavour pleasantly tart and sweet. ‘Did you hear me complaining? Your plans were lovely, but this way I still had a nice dinner and I got to paw you in your hallway.’ She smiled at him as she took another bite. ‘I blame the shirt you were wearing, as well as the jeans low on your hips. And the sight of you in them. Top date marks all around.’
He leaned across their makeshift picnic and kissed her. ‘How lucky I am that you’ve dropped the bar so very low.’
She kissed him this time, and he tasted apples and wine on her lips.
He pulled back just far enough that he could talk. ‘Are you still hungry?’
‘No,’ Sophie said. ‘Why?’
‘Because I think it’s time for dessert.’
‘What else did you get for dessert? I’ve already seen your cheese plate.’
Mike grinned. ‘You.’
‘Oh,’ Sophie said, not moving from where she sat poised a fraction of an inch away from him. ‘Then we’d better put all of this stuff away, hadn’t we?’
Mike had to go into work early the next morning, since he was still trying to catch up from missing work when Sophie had been ill. He hated leaving her all warm and sleepy in his bed, but he also didn’t want to wake her. She’d had precious little sleep as it was. Then again, so had he, which might explain why he whistled all day at work.
Sometime around midday, his phone buzzed. He dug it out of his pocket quickly, hoping it was Sophie, but it was a message from Amaya. She’d taken a photo of her stretched out on the patio on a towel, soaking up the sun, a pair of sunglasses on her face. Next to her sat Barney the plant, wearing a matching pair. Underneath the photo was the message: #twinning.
Mike: Cute.
He set the phone down, getting back to some of the notes the clients had sent him on the design suggestions he’d emailed them earlier in the week. It wasn’t long until his phone buzzed a second time. His hopes rose again, but this time, it was a photo of Rahul, Noah, Stella and the baby, lying on their living-room floor. They were all wearing sunglasses, though they didn’t match, except for the baby. Someone had tried to create glasses for the baby out of construction paper, but baby Archie seemed to be more interested in chewing on them. The message under their photo said: #twinningsquared .
Mike gave in and responded. Very cute as well, though I don’t think Archie’s glasses are going to work out. Did he eat them?
Noah: Yes, but we’re choosing to look at it as ‘bonus fibre’.
Rahul: He doesn’t need bonus fibre, btw. We need him to be less regular. Do you know how many nappies I’ve changed today?
Noah: Yes, my love, mostly because you keep telling me.
Rahul: How else am I going to earn my ‘World’s Okayest Dad’ trophy?
Noah: Just be glad I kept Stella from drawing on the baby with a marker, which was how she was going to problem-solve the glasses issue.
Rahul: I’m going to have to share that trophy with you, aren’t I?
Amaya: The important part of all of this is that Barney and I looked amazing. Also, that we successfully tricked Dad into joining the chat. Now we pounce!
Amaya: And by that I mean, how did the date go?!?
Mike: Don’t you all have jobs? School? Lives? You’re very invested and appear to have too much time on your hands.
Rahul: Dad, we’re home with a baby. Amaya’s brain is being turned into pudding by her workload. So no, we don’t have lives. You’re our entertainment. Now tell me how the chicken turned out? Did you do my chicken justice?!?
Amaya: Who cares about your silly chicken? I want the juicy details.
Rahul: Don’t knock my chicken. That’s my marrying chicken. That chicken won me Noah.
Noah: Yes, it had nothing to do with your handsome face, your inner beauty, or love. It was entirely because of the chicken.
Rahul: The chicken and my thicc thighs.
Amaya: Annnnd we have a new combination of words to be stricken from the chat. I do not want to hear about your thighs. Ever.
Rahul: Jealous.
Mike: You’re not really my children. I found both of you under a rock.
Rahul: Father, that is hurtful.
Amaya: I accept that I’m a rock-dwelling goblin. Let’s move along. SPILL, DAD.
There was really no escaping it. He had to give them something. Date went well. He left it at that. He didn’t add unhelpful details like, ‘I know what she sounds like moaning my name’ or ‘she’s a blanket thief’ or even the fairly mild ‘the chicken tastes good even stone cold’, which would only invite questions.
Amaya: That’s it? Date went well? UGH.
Rahul: This show is boring. Zero stars.
Noah: Did she like the shirt? Will there be more dates?
Rahul: When do we get to meet her?
Amaya: Barney needs a grandma. I’m worried about the lack of a good older female role model in his life. They grow up so quick, Dad, and without good role models, he could turn to a life of crime. My Barney won’t make it in the nick! He’s too sensitive.
Rahul: How much coffee have you had today?
Amaya: The perfect amount.
Mike set his head onto his desk. Where had he gone wrong? His phone started to buzz continuously, a call coming through. Amaya had probably got tired of waiting for him to respond and called. He answered without looking at it. ‘Barney does not need a grandma, and no one is going to prison, you invasive little goblin. I regret educating you – you only use it against me.’
‘I take it your children are badgering you again?’
Mike sat bolt upright in his chair. ‘Sophie!’ Great. Just great. He’d probably not only sounded unwell, but like someone who was a complete bell end to his children. ‘Sorry – it’s a joke. I don’t actually think those things and my children know I’m kidding.’
Sophie laughed. ‘I never thought otherwise, though I’d love some context for some of that later. I was calling to see what you’re doing tonight?’
Mike frowned at his calendar, which was depressingly full. ‘Depends on what time you’re thinking.’
‘My neighbour Manny is helping with a fundraiser tonight and a few of his volunteers are ill. Any chance you want to help support the senior centre? We’d have to be there no later than six.’
He should tell her no. He had a lot of work to do, and work came first. Or at least it had for the past ten or so years. And where had that got him? He looked at his schedule again.
Fuck it.
‘Send me the address. I’ll make it there as close to six as I can.’
Sophie made a happy noise. ‘Oooh, thank you! I’ll text you the details when I get off the phone.’ She paused. ‘Thank you in advance. For tonight. Also for last night.’
‘The pleasure’s mine on both counts.’ He hung up after they’d said their goodbyes, finding a few missed messages from his children, mostly more good-natured bickering.
Mike: She said I looked handsome in the shirt and just called to see what I was doing tonight.
Rahul: Yes, chicken for the win!
Noah: Pretty sure shirt for the win.
Amaya: Yes, that’s how you win a lady’s heart – chicken and shirts. You’ve unlocked the secret. We are simple creatures, but alas, not that simple.
Mike: She’s right. It was probably the cheese plate.
Mike thought it might also be the orgasms, but once again opted out of sharing that particular detail.
Amaya: You made a cheese plate? Excellent choice. No wonder she wants another date. Where are you going? Are you doing something fun?
Mike: She’s helping out her neighbour who’s running some sort of fundraiser at a local senior centre. So nothing too exciting. Probably a silent auction or something.
Maybe it sounded on the duller side to his children, but Mike didn’t think it mattered what he and Sophie did – he always had fun with her. She’d make the evening entertaining no matter what.
With that mindset, Mike was woefully unprepared for what greeted him in the cafeteria of the senior centre. He had not expected the music, the disco ball or the frankly irresponsible number of vodka jelly shots lined up in little plastic containers creating their own poor-decisions rainbow. He probably could have anticipated the tables and chairs, but not the penis-shaped confetti covering the nearest one. He had also not expected to find Manny, Sophie’s intimidating neighbour, dressed like a ringmaster, his face in full make-up, which included a great deal of blue glitter.
‘Oh good, you’re here,’ Manny said, rushing towards him. ‘How are you with crowd control?’
‘What,’ Mike said slowly, as he tried to take it all in, ‘is happening?’
Manny herded him towards the back of the room, talking as he went. ‘Didn’t Sophie tell you? It’s Drag Queen Bingo.’
Mike peered down at Manny. ‘I will admit that I don’t know much about being a drag queen, but I thought they usually dressed as women.’
Manny’s blue-glitter eyebrows bunched together. ‘What? Oh, it’s not me. I’d make a terrible drag queen. I’m more of an assistant. I help Dazzle with the sound and whatever else she needs. Look, I really appreciate the help. Bingo is a huge draw and a big money-maker for the senior centre – it pays for a lot of the programmes they offer. My abuela goes here, so it means a lot.’
‘Your abuela ?’
‘Yeah,’ Manny said. ‘That’s her over there by the Jell-O shots.’
‘I didn’t know people drank at bingo. Or had disco balls.’ Mike came to a stop, pushing the heels of his hands against his eyes. ‘Manny, I didn’t get a lot of sleep, and right now there’s a lot going on here all at once.’
‘I feel for ya, buddy, but I don’t have time to acclimate you. Doors open in twenty minutes and bingo players are fucking feral. Let me hand you off to Sophie. She’s been brought up to speed already.’
Sophie was in the kitchen, helping Tom and Marisa as they finished setting up the kitchen.
‘Nachos,’ Tom said when he caught Mike’s questioning expression. ‘Everyone gets a boat of nachos with their entrance fee. Helps create a base for the drinks.’
Marisa filled a plastic container with sour cream. ‘There’s something about buying Jell-O shots from seniors. People go overboard. It would be a really bad idea not to offer at least some food.’
To Mike, the kitchen seemed like a microcosm of the barely controlled chaos in the larger room he’d just left, only a fraction more manageable. There was simply too much to absorb. He turned to Sophie. ‘Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Should I stay back here and help?’
Marisa jumped in, not giving Sophie a chance to answer. ‘Oh no, you’re not going to be wasted back here. We’re going to use the power of your accent.’
Mike blinked. ‘Pardon?’
Tom smirked at him as he tied on his apron. ‘She means she wants you to work the room. People buy a pack of bingo sheets when they come in, but they can buy smaller, quick-round games during the evening, too. Marisa wants you to go out there and charm people into spending money.’
‘Yes,’ Marisa said. ‘Trust me. It’ll work. TV has trained us to think anyone with a British accent is either a super-villain or intelligent and charming, like Benedict Cumberbatch.’ She shooed him with her hands. ‘So go out there and charm . Channel your inner David Tennant.’
‘He’s Scottish.’
Marisa scrunched up her face in confusion. ‘Isn’t that part of Great Britain?’
‘Yes,’ Mike said.
‘So doesn’t that make them British?’
Mike waggled his hand back and forth.
‘They probably think of themselves as Scottish first,’ Tom said helpfully. ‘There’s a lot of complicated history there.’
‘Fine,’ Marisa said. ‘Channel your inner James McAvoy.’
Mike shook his head. ‘Also Scottish.’
Marisa huffed. ‘Cillian Murphy?’
‘Irish,’ Mike said, a bit apologetically.
‘Is there anyone in England?’ She frowned. ‘Hugh Jackman?’
Tom snorted. ‘He’s Australian.’
Marisa threw her hands in the air. ‘Daniel Craig? But not James Bond Daniel Craig, more Benoit Blanc – but without the Southern accent. Go be folksy and handsome.’
Mike looked helplessly at Tom, who raised his hands in surrender. ‘Don’t look at me.’
When that didn’t work, Mike turned to Marisa. ‘You do know your fiancé is also British?’
‘I am aware, yes,’ Marisa said. ‘But he’s on nacho duty. I made a promise after last time.’
Mike wheeled round to face Tom. ‘What does that mean?’
Tom threw him a pitying look as he transferred grated cheese into a plastic container. ‘It means watch out for table five. I’ve never been hit on so much in my life. Especially watch out for Dolores. She’s been known to get handsy. If she does, tell Manny and he’ll handle it. She’s been warned.’
‘Handsy?’ Mike clasped the back of his neck with his hand. ‘I don’t want to be groped by strange older women.’
‘Only older women you know well?’ Sophie asked. She placed a hand on Mike’s shoulder. ‘I’m kidding. No one expects anyone to be groped. I’ll try to handle table five, but if anyone makes you uncomfortable, tell Manny.’
‘I’m more confused now than I was when I came in here,’ Mike admitted. ‘Who knew bingo could be so fraught with danger?’
‘Oh, you poor man,’ Tom said, shaking his head. ‘You sweet summer child. You have no idea.’
Mike was starting to severely question his choices for the evening.
‘I’ve got you,’ Sophie said, taking his arm. ‘Just have fun and try to sell as many sheets as you can. Every penny goes towards the senior centre.’