Chapter 2 – Marco
“Dude, what has been going on with you recently?” Justin, a loyal client whose company I often draft contracts for, asks in my office later that morning.
“What do you mean?”
“You just seem so happy. I swear to God, you basically skipped in here.”
I can feel my cheeks burning. “Um . . .”
“It’s a woman, isn’t it?”
“Fine. We’re off the clock, okay?”
“Of course.”
“There may be a female in my life.”
“I knew it! Who is she?”
I hesitate.
“Come on—”
“Bea Carter.”
“The hot hippie chick who works at the record store?”
“Yeah.”
“Nice.” He raises his hand. I feel weird about it, but I high-fived him. “She’s pretty young, no?”
“A few years younger than me.”
“You’re going to want to be super careful with that, though?”
“With what?”
“Bea.”
“Why do you say that?”
“I’ve heard stories about her father. He sounds super over-protective.”
“Well, that’s understandable. I’m sure I’ll seem like a crazy dad when my girls are old enough to date.”
“No, but Mr. Carter is at the next level. Like sit on his porch and wait for you with a shotgun.”
“I’m sure I’ll be fine. I’ve met both of her parents. I did some legal work for them a ways back. Plus, we’re just casual right now.”
“Have the kids met her?”
“They already knew her. She has helped me out with them from time to time.”
“Wow.”
“What?”
“You really are a cliché, huh? A dirty old man is boinking the babysitter.” I know he’s just kidding, but it still stings a little.
“Yeah, yeah. I know.”
Then, he leans closer and says, “So, how is the sex?”
“Okay. I think we’ve taken care of everything we need for this purchase agreement—”
“That good? Nice.”
I continue to avoid answering him because I believe that’s a private matter that is just between her and me, but what I really want to do is scream from the rooftops about how absolutely electrifying our connection is. Every time I touch her, I feel like my hands, my fingertips, everything were made for her skin.
“Does she have any friends you could hook me up with?”
I pictured the friend who often worked at the store with her. He may have a crass mouth, but he’s still a tailored businessman. I can hardly see Justin dating someone with bright red hair and more piercings on her face than I could count.
“I don’t think so.”
“Dang. Well, if you ever come across a fine, eligible woman, please keep me in mind.”
“I’ll certainly try.”
“I appreciate it.”
He left my office, and I had a little bit of other work to do. But when it hits lunchtime, I leave and stop at Cleo’s Café to get Bea her favorite sandwich.
“Surprise!” I say from behind her. She’s reaching up high for something, and the small of her back is exposed. I smile, remembering how several little pieces of me needed to be wiped from that very spot after we ran out of protection, and she insisted on doing it in a position that required her to be on all fours. I voiced my concern over the small chance she could still get pregnant—but she assured me she’d get the necessary medication.
“Marco! What are you doing here?” She turns and pulls her shirt down.
“I brought lunch for you.”
“Oh! That’s so sweet.”
I look around the store and see that there aren’t many shoppers inside. “Do you have time for a break?”
“Yeah, sure. Come on back. Micky! I’m going on lunch.”
“Okay, sounds good.”
“Oh, green now,” I comment after seeing her friend’s head pop out from behind an aisle.
“Yep. Don’t get too attached to it. The next time you see her, it’ll already be changed.”
“Remind me to never let the girls around her. I don’t want them getting any ideas.”
We laugh.
“You know, it’s funny. One of my friends was just asking me if you had any friends I could set him up with.”
“Well, Micky is exclusively poly, so . . . wait! You told someone about us?”
“I—uh.”
“No, it’s totally fine. I’m not upset. I’m just surprised.”
“Really? Why?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if you wanted people in your circle to know.”
I grab her hand. “It’s only the girls that I’m hesitant about finding out.
“And like I said, I totally understand that.”
I notice that she seems particularly giddy as she takes her next bite.
“What?”
She shrugs. “It’s just nice to hear that you think this is actually something between us. Not just a bunch of random hookups.”
I feel so bad that I ever made her feel that way. “Of course, it’s more than that. I mean, it is for you too, right?”
“It is.” She looks up at me and has a beam in her eyes.
“Good. Although, there is one thing I wanted to talk to you about.”
“What’s that?”
“Well, Justin, my client, and friend, was telling me about how your father has the reputation of being very protective of you.”
“Oh.” She puts her food down and wipes her hands together. “His bark is bigger than his bite. Trust me.”
“Okay. I was gonna say that he seemed perfectly level-headed when I was around him. But there was mention of a shotgun.”
“It’s an old rifle, and that thing hasn’t had ammunition of any kind in it since our great-grandfather used it in the Civil War. Well, at least that’s where Daddy tells people it came from. I think he just got it at a rummage sale or something.”
“Either way, I’d prefer not to have a weapon pointed at me.”
“Well, you won’t need to worry about that unless you go breaking my heart.”
“I’m certainly not planning on it.” Like with my daughters, the thought of intentionally hurting her in anyway almost makes me feel ill.
“Good to hear.”
“Hey, Bea. Sorry to ruin your little date,” Micky comes in and says.
“No, that’s fine.”
“What’s up?” Bea asks.
“Mr. Harold is here and looking for the throat singing album you recommended to him at the coffee shop the other day.”
“Oh, yeah! Huun-Huur-Tu. I saved it behind the counter for him. Let me go get it.”
“Wow. She uh, she really likes throat singing. She added a bunch of songs to my playlist.”
“Yeah, she says it ‘speaks’ to her.”
Then, an awkward silence falls upon us, and I really feel my age—having absolutely nothing of substance to say to this “cool” young person.
“Did that hurt?” I randomly ask, pointing to where she appeared to have a piercing through the flesh between her eyebrows.”
“My third eye? Nah, it”s not too bad. The tongue and septum were way worse.”
The first one was self-explanatory, but I have no idea where the second one is, and I’m not sure I want to know.
However, she seems to catch onto my confusion. “Or the ‘bull ring’ as older people seem to have a hoot calling it.”
“Ah.” After that, I understand.
Then, I seem to have inadvertently invited her to tell me all about her body modifications, and I feel faint when she decides to show me her split tongue.
“The . . . the piercing wasn’t enough?”
“No.”
Bea returns shortly after, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
“He’s fun,” Micky says before heading back out on the floor.
“Oh, God. She showed you her tongue, didn’t she.”
“That she did, yeah.”
“I’m sorry. She just likes shocking people.”
I swallow hard. “Consider me shocked.”