14-REAGAN
“Oh. My. God.” Miles shouted before I even got the door closed.
“You’re glowing like your depression was exfoliated off.
Tell me everything.” The remote to the television hit the cushion after he muted it and stood.
“You look different. Do you feel different? I got you lunch in case you were hungry and charged your phone.”
“Thank you. I should probably take a shower.”
“Uh, no. You’re not showering now. I want to hear all about it. How many times did you and the gas mask have sex?”
“Who says we had sex?”
“Then why do you need to shower?”
My eyes narrowed at him as I set the swag bag on the couch and sat next to it. A salad was waiting for me on the coffee table, along with my phone. Popping the lid off, I began my story. “First off, Smoke didn’t catch me. Fang did. You know, the balaclava with the teeth?”
Miles nodded, coming back around the kitchen island with sparkling water for himself and flat water for me. “So, you didn’t even get the one you wanted?” The look of defeat came over him.
“No, but that's the part that surprises me. There was no way it could have gone better. Fang—” I debated on telling him that I knew his real name or that he took his mask off. “He was exactly who I needed to break my celibacy.”
“Oh my god, you fucked!”
“You were practically begging me to spread my legs for the first man we saw on this trip. So, why are you acting surprised now?”
“But it was Fang? Did he scent you like a wolf?” Miles opened the bag that followed me back to the b and b, slowly pulling each souvenir out to inspect it.
My brow furrowed, “No.”
“Did he chase you? Like literally? Did you really run? Because no man will force me to do cardio.”
“Clearly, Miles,” I muttered into my salad. “I ran out first, and then after so many minutes they sent the guys out.”
“Did you fall like they do in horror films?”
“No, but with the shoes they gave me, I should have.”
“Ugh, who gave you permission to be a main character without notifying me. What else happened?”
“Well, I spent the whole night naked.”
“Good, good. Tell me, nice body…nice…?”
“Nice everything! When it came to physical looks, I couldn’t be happier.”
“What was the vibe? Lumberjack? Prison escapee? Hot Costco dad?”
“None of those. More like a bad boy with only a soft spot for you.”
“Yes! So was it weird not seeing his face? Having a weiner in you without being kissed?” He held out my dress on two fingers, with a look of approval.
“I—” My fork clanged on the coffee table as I reached for my water, the seal cracking under my knuckles. Miles wasn’t one to spill others’ secrets. He had no following online, and I wasn’t really worried about him. I had convinced myself. “I asked him to take his mask off.”
Clutching the dress in both hands, he gasped. “REAGAN! Why are you just now telling me this?”
“Because it’s against the rules, Miles!”
“Okay, and? I didn’t tell anyone about that time you went on that date nine years ago with that guy who lived with his lesbian aunts and slept in his cousin’s race car bed.
And to this day I have not told anyone that during sex, you told him to ‘slow down or you were going to get pulled over’, no matter how funny it is. So don’t leave anything out.”
“Alright, true. But yes, I got him to take off his mask. And when he did, I blurted out how hot I thought he was.”
“What does he look like?” He set the dress in the growing pile to the side and put my perfume up to his nose for a quick whiff.
“Longish dark hair, green eyes, sharp features. Very nice, full lips and a big smile. He has his ears pierced and tattoos down both arms. And yes, Miles, a very nice appendage.”
“Yes! You deserve it. Fucking Tate destroyed your self-esteem, and it’s nice to see you getting back out there. I’m keeping these, by the way.” He held up the toiletries I didn’t get to use and a few snacks.
“Okay.”
“Then what happened? Was he nice to you, or do I need Mom to make one of her Pinterest spell jars?” He stared at me, like he was unsure as to why I stopped talking.
“No, I asked him to be rough-ish with me.”
Miles’ jaw fell open. “Rea-gan!”
“And he was. He could have been rougher if he wanted, but what he gave me was ten out of ten all three times.”
“Three?” He found his seat again.
“Yes, two at night and once at like, two in the morning.”
“Did you guys stay up all night talking or something?”
“No, we talked, but we eventually fell asleep.”
“What do you even talk about in that situation?”
“Well, for starters, I—” I finished my bite and looked at Miles. “I told him my name, what I do for work, and a little about me. And he told me his name. It’s Vincent. He’s a farrier.”
“Oh, my god. I can’t. This is amazing.” Miles pulled his phone up to his face. “I’m going to find him on social media.”
“I gave him my phone number this morning.”
“Perfect.” He dropped his phone dramatically. “Did you come back in love or anything? God, Tate is going to hate you.”
“Yeah, I still don’t care what Tate thinks. I just wish he would sign the damn papers and get this over with.”
“If Vincent and Tate got into a fight, who would win?”
My expression said he was stupid for asking that question. “Vincent is a farrier and a hotshot firefighter. Tate pushes papers around an insurance desk and pretends he is tough on Call of Duty.”
“Wait, he’s a firefighter also? I think you found my dream man.”
“If he was interested, would you really want my seconds?”
“Actually no, you’re right. What else happened?”
“Nothing really. We slept in late and I couldn’ t shower. We had pancakes, well, I had pancakes. He had to pretend he never took his mask off. I got a chiropractor adjustment and massaged and then had a therapy session.”
Miles smirked, “Did you really need adjusting? Or did you wish it was our chiropractor? Ha!”
“No, but it was nice.”
“Okay, but like… Proud of you. You finally stepped out of the role of Victorian widow. Do you think you’ll hear from him?”
I snapped my lid back onto the empty container. “I want to think so. Just the way he looked at me made me puddle.”
“I’m sure it did.”
My phone powered on, and I waited for all the notifications to roll through before picking it up. A few emails, a few security camera notifications, and a couple of text messages with a red four next to the icon. I swiped down the notification bar.
Mom: Saw this and thought of you.
Attached was a screenshot of a Pinterest pin showing a crochet frog. I don’t crochet or like frogs. Whatever. Dragging the notification bar down farther, she had another.
Mom: I’m making banana bread later and will drop off a loaf for you.
Reagan: I can grab it when I drop Miles off.
I wasn’t going to say no to banana bread. Swiping her text away, the last message appeared. It was an unsaved contact, and my heart clenched like it wasn’t ready for this.
Unsaved number: Wildflower…
“Holy shit!” I jumped to my feet, scraping my knee on the edge of the table.
“What?” Miles copied my motion, scared that it was a spider. “What is it?”
“He texted me.” I flipped my wrist to show him the message.
Miles ripped my phone out of my grip. “That’s him?”
“It has to be. That’s what he called me.”
His thumbs moved frantically.
“What are you doing?”
“Adding him to your phone.” A moment passed, and the sound of my phone rattling came from his hand. His jaw dropped open. “Oh, my god.”
“What?” I reached for my phone, almost embarrassed at what he might have said next.
“He sent a picture.” Miles moved his hand out of my reach.
“What!” I jerked towards it.
“Hold on, I’m forwarding it to myself, here.” Done with it, he dropped my phone into my open palm.
“Really, Miles? Masked Midnight Daddy?” Vincent’s picture was of him with his hood up.
A few rebellious strands of hair across his forehead and a smirk tugging at his lips.
Almost as if he were honored to be sending it.
The background was the inside of a truck.
I could see the bed past the window behind him, and the exterior of the vehicle looked like he was on the freeway.
Miles had already made it his contact picture.
“Don’t even think about changing it.”
“Well, I don’t have time right now. I should shower, but we need to leave. I already had to pay extra for a late check-out.”
“I would complain about you not showering, but if Masked Midnight Daddy’s hands were all over me, I would postpone that as long as possible too.”
Getting ready for our departure, I collected all my souvenirs and set the bag next to the door. “You don’t even know what filthy things he did.”
“You can tell me on the way.”
?
During the drive back, time seemed to fly by. Possibly because I had replayed every detail from the last twenty-four hours over and over again. Spilling only the necessary ones to Miles.
My mother sat in the living room carelessly with a glass of wine, like her couch wasn’t white. “Hi, Mom. How was your weekend?”
“It was great.” I bent down and gave her a hug. “I had a Reiki session and got my chakras aligned. Sounds like you also got yours aligned too.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“That’s not what Miles has to say. And—” She shifted her wine glass towards me as I sat next to her. “By someone who’s got that broody Heathcliff vibe.”
“Oh, my God, Miles, you sent her the picture?”
“What do you want from me? she asked.” Miles briefly looked up from his phone. I was slightly concerned he might be doing more research.
“So when are you going to see this mystery mask man again?”
“I’m not supposed to see him again. We are under contract that we are not supposed to communicate outside of the event.”
“And get this, Mom. He lives an hour away from here.”
She set down her wine glass. “Oh, my goodness, it’s like a match made in heaven. Or should I say a match made in the woods? I don’t need to meet him to know that I like him better than Tate.”
“This is not a competition. Can we just move on and continue with our lives? Nobody meets the love of their life doing that. It’s just for fun. It’s just a fantasy played out.”
“Um, no, why don’t you tell Mom what you told me?”
“What do you mean?” I told him a lot and needed clarification before I spilled more to my hopeless romantic mother.
“About how you’re not supposed to know each other’s names or faces. But yet, somehow you both managed to learn each other’s by the end of the night.”
“Miles—”
He threw his hands out defensively. “What? Who’s she gonna tell, her coven? They’ll probably help manifest it.”
My mother stepped back into the conversation. “I told you guys, it’s not a coven. It's just a group of middle-aged women getting together.”
“Sure, Mom.” Miles joked.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket to respond to who I assumed had texted me, Vincent.
Masked Midnight Daddy: Do I get a picture? Or do I need to find one online?
I rifled through my gallery, finding one from a month ago, and sent it off to him without a word.
“He’s already texting you?”
I looked up from my phone to see my mother smile. “How do you know I’m texting him?”
“You’ve got that smile on your face. I haven’t seen it in a while, but there it is, clear as day. You’ve got a crush.”
“All right, yes, I do like him, and I do wish that things would work out. But with the contracts and the secrecy and everything, I’m not sure it’s going to work between us.
So let’s just take this day by day. Who knows, maybe in a week the thrill will be worn off, and we’re not attracted to each other anymore. ”
“Doubtful.” Miles chirped in from across the room. “I noticed the change in your gait when you walked into the b and b. I almost called customer service thinking you got hurt.”
After my mom changed the subject, I pulled up my business app to check how many orders I had gotten over the weekend. The quick flick through my emails earlier told me that I had orders.
I had two weddings, a Halloween party, and a birthday party coming up.
This was a good start to the month. I knew I would get some last-minute ones.
And some smaller ones for cupcakes or cookies.
In the end, when sales weren’t coming in, I could always make a batch of something and offer it online.
I had made a name for myself, and Wild Flour was well-known throughout the community.
“I’m going to go. I have some orders to go shopping for. Thank you for the bread.” I leaned into her embrace before standing with my loaf of banana bread that had sunk in the middle, as usual. “I will let you know if anything magically happens.”
“Alright. Love you.”
“Love you, Mom.” I shot a glance at my brother. “Miles.”
“Bye, Egg!”
?
“Tate, what are you doing here?” I closed the door to my car, more bothered with my unexpected guest than my groceries or luggage.
He pushed off the driver’s side of his truck. “I’m allowed to be here. My name’s on the lease.”
“Okay? Well, I figured since I changed the lock six months ago, that you got the hint.”
“I’m just here to see if I got any mail, so just chill.”
“You don’t.” He had gotten mail. Most of it was junk, and I didn’t care if it was important. He had his mail forwarded to his parents, and it wasn’t my problem that he didn’t double-check anything. “Did you bring the papers?”
Tate was good at entering my space without invitation. “No, I told you I wasn’t sure I wanted to do this anymore. Never really did in the first place.”
“Well, have fun being married to somebody who doesn’t want to be married to you.”
“What else can I do to fix it?”
“You can sign the papers and make up for it that way.”
“Look, I said I was sorry.”
“I am aware you did, but your actions of going to the bar every weekend are screaming ‘you’re not ready to be married’. Sadly, I overlooked that six years ago.”
“Stop. We’ve both been making improvements since our separation.” His gaze dropped down my body. If only he knew what I was up to last night and this morning, he might be a little more enraged than begging to get me back.
“I don’t care, Tate. I’m done.” I turned to the house, trying to escape this conversation. “There’s no mail. Please leave.”
The door hit the frame behind me, and I turned the lock on the man I used to love.
The man I used to walk into this home with giggling after a few drinks at a friend’s barbecue.
And now I was shutting him out because he refused to be responsible, and he refused to connect emotionally.
Causing me to distance myself far enough until it didn’t hurt to cut him off.