Chapter 12
Candace
My deliciously warm shower was exactly what I needed after such an eventful morning.
I haven’t woken up in such a good mood in the longest time, especially after being well-rested without the help of a little white pill.
Not only did I wake up on the right side of the bed, I also had an unexpected guest, who is charming her way into my life.
Nat’s been able to turn my permanent frown upside down, with no expectations.
What she gets out of this friendship is beyond me.
The only thing I’ve brought to the table are chocolate chip cookies.
While I was upstairs, dissecting my run-in with a very naked woman, I could hear them downstairs having the time of their lives.
The only time my girls laugh and sing like that is when my sister’s involved.
My heart sank when the doorbell rang. I could sense my parents before I even opened the door.
Everything faded when they strolled in and stole the happy moments we all shared this morning.
In typical fashion they were out patrolling, making sure everyone rolled their garbage bins back.
I’m sure my dad has a little black book where he makes notes of his ongoing complaints.
Their timing couldn’t have been worse. The kitchen was in disarray and Natalie was literally on the counter, belting out some rock song.
Was she completely in her element, whipping her long hair around?
Yes, but that’s neither here nor there. Kate and Madison clung tightly to her as my parents came in to inspect their breakfast mess.
I’m sure they made a phone call to Greg as they power-walked home, alerting him I’m raising our daughters in squalor.
Wiping the fog from my bathroom mirror, I judge the woman staring back at me. Who is she? I don’t even recognize her anymore. I’m so focused on what I’m supposed to do and who I’m expected to be that I don’t actually know if Candace is still there.
Like clockwork, my thoughts turn to Natalie as I lather on my face serums. The amount of money I’ve spent on magical potions promising anti-aging could fund the girls' college tuition. Years of smiling with my girls as they stumbled upon new words and belly laughed when I hit the right tickle spot have now created lines around my mouth and eyes. Natalie’s skin is free of damage and wrinkles, plus her eyebrows are safe from the endless peer pressure of overplucking.
It was foolish of me to believe getting older meant wisdom beyond my years.
An endless supply of knowledge to pass down to generations.
After decades of trial and error as a young adult, my life promised to be enjoyable.
I thought this period was meant to be more relaxing now that I was done with the baby stage and had a solid foundation within my marriage.
Turns out the marriage part didn’t work out so well, and I have less wisdom now than I did when I was in college.
The only thing this stage of life has brought me is undereye wrinkles and sleepless nights worrying I’m sabotaging my chances for happiness.
Once my hair’s curled, and the existential crisis over, I dot my under eyes with concealer and coat my lashes with dark brown mascara, bringing life back into my face.
I line my lips with a soft shade of pink.
Deciding to be casual, I throw on white linen pants and a denim button-up.
After I’ve double checked in the mirror and am happy with my outfit, I head downstairs, awaiting another sink full of dishes.
Natalie and the girls are sprawled out on the couch, engrossed in a movie. There’s a couple on screen, shooting at each other, destroying their home.
My attention turns to my kitchen, where they left me a clean sink, mopped floors, and leftover blueberry pancakes.
I shouldn’t compare, but Greg never, and I mean never, cleaned the kitchen like that, and honestly, I don’t remember the last time the girls voluntarily helped either.
Something about having Natalie here makes everything better.
The girls are getting along, my house is tidy, and I’m sleeping through the night.
Now I see how women end up falling in love with their best friend.
This weekend has felt more like a relationship than a friendship.
I continue picking apart the unfamiliar idea while I grab a pancake and head to my breakfast spot to look outside.
What does a relationship with a woman look like?
I guess the same as with a man, right? Date nights, weekend plans, bills, sex.
Wait a minute, sex with a woman? Obviously, that’d differ from a man.
The inner workings of sex with a woman is a complete mystery.
“What are you thinking about? You look pretty serious over here, Prez.” Natalie sits down next to me, stealing a piece of my pancake and resting back on the kitchen chair.
“Just that I’m glad you stayed. The girls seem really happy. Also, thank you for the kitchen, that was so sweet, seriously. Nobody’s ever done that for me before.” I frown, continuing the assault on my pancake.
Her eyes widen in horror. “Nobody’s ever cleaned your house? Weren’t you married for like two hundred years?”
“Not quite, two hundred. More like fifteen.”
“In fifteen years, your husband didn’t clean his own kitchen? I know you’re ancient, but I wasn’t aware you were born in the fifties. Did he make you wear heels while you vacuumed?” she scoffs.
No, I didn’t wear heels, but she’s not entirely off base. My eyes roll back at her carefree jab at my previous marriage. “His job was outside the home. It never dawned on me to ask for help because that was my responsibility.”
“Wow. Working behind a desk, how admirable. Somebody give that man an award for his bravery. Please tell me he was at least good in bed?” Her eyebrows shoot up, and she grabs my plate finishing the breakfast I’ve given up on.
Oh boy, the dreaded bedroom conversation. The one topic I’m not skilled with. “Um, actually, sex wasn’t a huge part of the marriage. It’s never been something I’ve been overly interested in.” I cringe, awaiting a poor reaction.
Her lips pursed tightly, “You’re not interested in orgasms?”
Making sure my children aren’t listening in on this very adult conversation, I lean in.
“Sex was only occasionally enjoyable. Saturdays were typically the nights we’d make love, once the girls were asleep.
Our lives were so busy that I wouldn’t always be in the right mindset to finish.
” With raised brows Nat examines her black painted nails and avoids eye contact.
“It’s really not a big deal.” I reassure, desperately wanting her to understand.
“There’s more to a relationship than sex. ”
“You’re right, there is more to a relationship than sex.
But you deserve to be with someone who prioritizes your needs in and out of the bedroom.
It’s a shame you didn’t enjoy it. You seem like you’d be a freak in the sheets, Princess.
” Her wink heats my chest and works its way up my neck, burning me alive.
With the sex talk behind us, we spend the rest of the day shuffling around the house like we’re one big happy family.
I spend a good portion of it in the backyard, enjoying the late summer sun.
My red roses have bloomed beautifully even with the recent change in temperature.
Having another person here, who isn’t Courtney, has made the mundane things that much more exciting.
There’s someone to talk to about the state of my garden and what I should plant next season.
Natalie has no interest in this, but that doesn’t stop her from suggesting herbs I should plant so we can have an endless supply of salsa.
She isn’t the biggest fan of nature, so instead she’s relaxing under a shady spot on the porch.
She forgot her latest paperback at school so I let her borrow one from my romance collection, and I swear I can hear her eyes roll back.
Even though we’re busy with our own hobbies, I’m enjoying the company.
Life after divorce is lonely, even with children.
They’re older and not by my side anymore.
It's just me and my rose bushes most weekends, and it feels isolating sitting here in the dirt listening to nothing but birds chirp. She’s hysterically laughing, occasionally throwing out one-liners she can’t believe made it past editing.
“There’s no way you read this with a straight face.” She clamps a hand over her mouth. “You’re telling me you and those PTA bitches really sit around gossiping about Ronaldo’s aching manhood? I’m impressed.”
“Yes, because at least Ronaldo saves his aching manhood for his one true love rather than spreading his seed around town for anyone to taste,” My voice carries through the backyard, towards my porch.
“Ew, don’t say ‘spreading his seed’ ever again, that’s fucking disgusting.” She slams the book shut.
My attention moves to the loud thud next door, following a fake cough I know all too well. “Excuse me, Candace. Would you ladies mind refraining from your vulgar chit-chat? This is a family neighborhood, please take that kind of language elsewhere,” my neighbor calls over her wooden fence.
“So sorry, Mrs. Henderson.” I’m already on my feet, lunging for Nat as she draws back her arm, book in hand.
“What the fuck did she just say?” she hollers.
“Let's go inside.” Grabbing her wrist, I usher her inside. “I can’t take you anywhere.” I lean up against my glass backdoor, shutting it behind me.
“Dude, explain to me how you can live here? Is this some sort of science experiment? Did you volunteer to have your lives picked apart? Or is it more like a Truman Show situation?” she questions.
Piercing pain shoots through my eye, and out the back of my head, my lungs feel like they’re about to burst. Panic runs through my veins, and I slowly catch my breath, quieting the endless voices shouting at me.
When I finally come to, Nat’s rubbing my back, soothing me. “Candace, relax. Just breathe, everything's okay.”
“It’s not okay.” Tears well, and my lower lip quivers. It’s time for her to go, and the realization hurts worse than what I’m feeling right now. “I just wanna lie down. I think maybe you should leave after all.”
“Seriously? You’re making me leave because of Nosey Nancy next door? Fuck that lady, who cares?”
“It’s not just about my neighbor. It’s the culmination of all the chaos from today.
All I wanted was a relaxing weekend, and instead I’m more stressed than I was.
I’ve got my parents all over me, and now Mrs. Henderson.
Please go home. I'll see you on Monday.” My gaze drifts past her to my front door, before turning back to her. “We all could use a little reset.”
Her lips squeeze tight. “Good idea. That old beetle next door probably alerted the authorities, so I’d better go before they arrest me for having nipple piercings.”
She storms off, clipping her long hair into a messy bun.
My heart screams at me, knowing we’re in for another sleepless night.
If word gets out, which it probably already has, that there’s a young woman hanging out at my house, swearing and talking about men's private parts, I’m never going to hear the end of it.
It’s better this way. What was I thinking, letting her sleep over?
The front door slams behind her, leaving my house quiet and me alone again.
“Why’d Nat leave?” The girls’ race to the foyer, opening the door. My heart hurts for them, and I instantly miss her too.
“She had to go home to check on her roommate.” I’m not proud of the lie, but it had to be done. How else do I explain it? “Find something funny to watch. I’ll join you after a quick nap.” I kiss the tops of their heads before leaving them to fend for themselves.
When I lie down, all I smell is her, and all I feel is the emptiness surrounding me. Instead of dreaming, I question everything that transpired and continue berating my conscience for not speaking up before making another huge mistake.