41
Her chin turns towards the kids on the floor, her eyes cannot break the gaze with the pilllow that is now rising from it's depressed center. She doesn't want to stare at it, so she forces her eyes to the ground, but finds them creeping back up-back up to see if she sees what she thinks she saw, or if it was some kind of ill hallucination. She sees the pillow continue to rise, at the slowest pace humanly possible, as if its mocking her, drawing her gaze back, but she turns away again. It's like when someone's ass is hanging out the bottom of their shorts, you don't want to look at it, but it's there and you can't help it, and you can't help but wonder from their perspective: can you not feel the draft?
Could you have straightened out the bed so your mother, who isn't even sure if you've kissed this girl yet, does not have to play the reel of the "DID YOU?!" series? My son will be the death of me, I can feel it. I mean you've essentially been able to spent time out of school for what? Not even 24 hours! Was this like a make up thing? Oh my good lord, was it?!
He hasn't looked at you, his face is fixated on the news, your daughter has her fingers running all through this girl's hair. You can't remember what her hair looked like when you first walked in. Was it a mess or did your child destroy it in the last ten seconds?
"What are you guys up to?," she finally asks, as if she can't clearly see that the news is on and they have not been paying an ounce of attention to it.
"Just stuff for school," he says, as if it's no big deal. Please leave.
"Oh," her voice sounds younger than it normally does, meek.
She steps out of his room, and leans her back against the wall. How do I tell them to get out of his room?, she questions. Harper's in there, she reasons, and gains the strength to walk away before she says something she'll regret. She walks toward their kitchen, to take inventory of the fridge, when she sees their backpacks sitting by the coat rack, near their front door.
Her feet freeze in place, she pulls out her phone, but she cant see the small letters. Her hand slaps around the pockets of her body in search for her reading glasses, she starts her text, but continues to lift her head to see the bags.
"Bring home condoms," she texts and hits send. She walks closer to the bags and squats down next to them; she sets her phone on the floor and stares at the bags, trying desperately to figure out how they could potentially be doing "stuff for school" without their backpacks.
Soon after, Alex comes home,
"Why didn't you text me back?," she asks Piper while putting her stuff down.
"What?"
"You send me a ridiculous message and then don't answer my replies."
Piper eyeballs her phone that she left on the floor, "I silenced it, sorry," she says pointing to the device on the floor.
Alex retrieves the phone next to her son's backpack and brings it to Piper, while she leans on the kitchen table.
"Pipes?," she asks her wife who's somewhat dazed, "I'm trying not to freak out here...," she slides the plastic bag from the drugstore toward the blonde, "do I get some kind of extra wife points in my bucket for picking these up?"
Piper peaks into the bag and pushes them away at a huff.
"I thought we were passed this point in our relationship," the brunette says with a nervous chuckle. "Can't say I've ever had to buy these before. The cashier must've thought I was with some kind of stallion."
The blonde just glares at her wife, no words are uttered. "Pipes they're just to show him how to put them on...right?"
She slowly shrugs a shoulder, "they were laying on his bed."
"Wait...him and Lauren? Naked?! She's here?"
"She's gone. I don't know Alex!"
"Pipes were they wearing clothes or not!?"
"Yes," she says disgruntled as she rubs her hands over her cheeks, "they had clearly just been fooling around in his... on his bed when I came home."
The brunette frowns.
"I called out for him when I got home, his light went on and I heard Harper shout out "Lauren!," so I went down to his room and his bed was a mess and they were staring at the news. The news Alex!"
She smirks at her wife's mini-tantrum, "so what did you say?"
"I froze, I just asked them what they were doing and he told me they were doing homework!"
"Maybe they had been doing homework on his bed, but they moved because he knew you'd be upset?"
"They didn't even have a book out. Their backpacks...," she points to his backpack that is still by the door, "weren't even in his room."
"Ah J," Alex chuckles while she shakes her head at their son's poor attempt to cover his tracks.
"Alex it's not funny!"
"It's not!," she agrees while failing to stifle her laughter, "Pipes maybe they were messing around, but he's not there," she says pulling the condom bag away from Piper's side of the table.
"How do you know?," she says, stopping the brunette's hand from dragging the bag away from her, "he wouldn't look at me, like he was caught doing something that he shouldn't have been doing." She squeezes the box through the bag.
"I don't know, I just...he's not ready for that, they've only kissed."
"He has kissed her? You're sure?," her eyebrows lower, "how do you know?"
"Babe look, it doesn't matter how I know. What matters is 1) I do know, and I feel like I can safely gauge that he is absolutely not there and 2) if I need to find something out, I can, alright?"
She peers at her with a hardened stare before nodding in agreement, grateful for her wife's manipulative ways. She sighs, "he's only twelve."
"Almost thirteen. C'mon Pipes how old were you for your first kiss?"
"That's irrelevant."
"Touched a girl's boob? No, wait, that would be irrelevant. Let someone touch your boob?"
"Stop!" She sighs again and places her hand on the bag, "I still need to talk to him."
"Piper don't give him a box of condoms, he doesn't need them yet," she says stacking her hand over Piper's and the cardboard box of deviousness.
"Do you really think he's going to come and ask us to get him condoms when he is?! I'd rather him have them, than be too embarrassed to ask us for them and then be unsafe okay?"
"Do what you want Pipes, at least tell him to check the expiration date on them before he uses them." She pushes back from the table, somewhat annoyed that they're not meeting eye to eye. She picks up his backpack and makes her way down the hall. She drops it inside his doorway, "next time you tell your mother you're doing homework, make sure your backpack's in the room."
Piper paces around their bedroom, chatting with Polly about how to navigate this conversation, as Alex doesn't think it's necessary. She flops onto their bed,
"and how am I supposed to get him to tell me where he is, in this little relationship of his? Because apparently someone," she looks at Alex dramatically, "knew that he's already kissed her and didn't think it was necessary to fill me in on this information." The brunette curls onto her side and adjusts her book so she can re-immerse herself into the ostentatious world of Chelsea Handler. She sees Piper's shadow, cast from the lamp, dart around the room as Polly gives her two cents.
"And I appreciate that but I want to be the one to talk to him. It may not be the most comfortable, but I should be able to have this conversation with him, shouldn't I?"
Is that why she was trying to avoid the conversation? Discomfort? No, the brunette reasoned, if she felt like the time was right, she'd agreed to give him the condoms and have this conversation with him. But would the time ever feel right?
"Alright, I wont, I wont. Thanks."
She dramatically leaves the condoms behind and exits their room to talk to Jamie. "Are you busy?," she asks him, stepping into his room.
"Kind of," he says while finishing a sentence on his loose leaf paper.
"Actually doing school work this time?," she says sarcastically.
He looks up at her, "yes."
"Can I talk to you for a minute... about... that?"
"Mom, I really need to finish my homework, I have a ton left. I still have to read this chapter for English, and outline this stupid paper, and do this quiz for math..."
"I'll be quick then," she justifies.
He flips through his book and keeps his eyes on the floor.
"When I came home, before, were you and Lauren..."
He cuts her off, "were me and Lauren, what?"
"Jamie. I know you really like her."
"Mom! We weren't doing anything."
"You weren't laying down in your bed?," she asks seriously.
"We were just laying down."
"Did you kiss her?"
"I've kissed her a hundred times. She's my girlfriend."
"She's your girlfriend," she says digesting. What does that mean?!
"Yes?," as if this news hadn't become finite, an hour earlier.
"Why didn't you tell me you've kissed her before?"
"What am I supposed to do? Just come home and be like 'hey mom, guess what I did today during study hall? I didn't study at all actually. In fact, I made plans to sit in the back corner with Lauren and make out? NBD, just thought you'd like to know. Or I could write it for you on a post- it and and stick it on the fridge, 'P.S. Next time you give me twenty minutes to myself, we plan on going to my room to make out on my bed, so if you could call first to give me a heads up, that would be great thanks?'"
She stands next to him dumbfounded. A smirk makes its way across her face, and she shoves him slightly. Had she expected him to prance around her, giving her a ticket to the movie of his personal life? "I just don't want you to do anything too fast, okay?"
"I know mom."
"You don't know. Once you do certain things, you can't take them back. You want to wait until that person is special Jamie."
"Mom I know. Until we've spent enough time together and really know each other. It will mean more. I know."
"Because it changes everything, you want to really trust that person and have them trust you back."
"Mom-I-know."
"And even when you do trust them, you should still always use...protection."
"Mom!"
"What?! Jamie, I will not have something happen to you or her because I didn't have this conversation, okay? So shut your mouth and let me say my piece."
He throws himself backwards, disengaging from his end.
"You should know how to use a condom. I want to make sure you know how so you don't make any mistakes."
"Mom, they showed us how to put a condom on a banana, like the second day of school. I know how to do it. I don't need to know, but I know. Okay? Can you please let me finish my homework?"
"No. You know you can get infections, other ways too."
"Yes, I know, you can cut the condom and make a square and use it as a barrier. Mom, please, I'm begging you."
"Okay, well there'll always be some in the house. I'll just put them under the bathroom sink or something okay?"
"Whatever you want mom, great. I can get them from school too, the nurses office has them."
"Okay," she leaves him alone and goes back to her room. She finds her wife still curled onto her side, the sheet covers the bottom half of her legs, the pale skin of her thighs poke through the silky grey fabric of her shorts.
She drinks her in, and kneels into their bed, "so...that went well."
"Yeah?," she asks somewhat shocked while turning onto her back.
"Yeah. So he said his school already had the condom conversation with him, last year, and he could get them from the nurse... when he needs them. So, you were right, okay? He's not there."
"Ha," she says with a smirk though inside can't actually believe the school felt it was necessary to cover this territory already.
"What?," the blonde asks her as she sees Alex biting her smirk.
She chuckles a little, "I'm always down for bragging rights, but he's...well fuck, he's twelve."
"Almost thirteen," she whispers, teasing her wife's words back at her. "His answers were appropriate, just hope he listens to the little voice." She strokes the brunette behind her neck and pulls her in close, she kisses her tenderly, "he'll be alright."
The brunette takes note of the slow kiss and eyeballs their doorknob. Piper crawls backwards off the bed, and locks their door. She crosses her arms and pulls her white t-shirt over her head and tosses it on the bed beside the supine brunette. She walks slowly back over to the bed, throwing some hip action with her strides. She lays down beside the brunette and slips her hand down the front of the brunette's shorts.
Dry. "Am I not doin it for you?"
"Its the menopause."
Piper rolls her eyes with a smile, "sure it is," she says playfully as she rolls over Alex some and moves her hand around her drawer. She grabs some lubricant.
"No," the brunette comes up onto her elbows as the cap pops open on the bottle, "just, can you give me a chance?"
Piper takes her face in her hands and pulls her close in a kiss, "what if I'm ready now? Am I supposed to wait for you?" She straddles her thighs and takes her time sensually brushing her hands through Alex's hair. She bounces around slightly on the brunette's lap, purposely making her breasts bounce. She raises an eyebrow, but Alex just shakes her head at Piper's joke of an attempt at getting her aroused. The blonde's hand roam over the brunette's pale back, until she finds the clasp of her wife's bra and unhooks it, releasing the ample flesh. She pulls the brunette's black tank top up and rests the fabric above her chest, "see, this is just unfair," she cups the underside of one of the brunette's breasts and heaves it upward. The brunette's eyebrows come together slightly. "Two breastfed kids and mine are still small. If mine looked like this, I'd barely need to touch you and we'd have to change the sheets."
The brunette smirks, "have I ever complained about yours?," she asks with a quick flick of Piper's nipple. The blonde shakes her shoulders as chills run over her body. The brunette chuckles as she runs her hands up and down the blonde's arms willing her chicken skin to recede. She hands her back her thin white t-shirt, Piper pulls it over her head, disheveling her hair. Her hardened nipples poke through the fabric, the brunette stares and feels the moisture begin to collect between her legs. Piper takes note of the brunette's line of vision, her hand pulls the brunette's chin up, "take a picture;" the palm of her hand rests on the brunettes cheek, she pushes her face away bashfully.
Alex tickles her nipple rolling it back and forth, while Piper's fingertips brush up and down her inner thighs, "tell me what you want me to do to you."
"Just... touch me."
"No. Specifics."
The brunette grunts with small reluctance.
"You asked me to give you a chance."
"I'm good now, thanks to your smuggled tic tacs."
The blonde looks down at her chest, "thanks guys. So.. you want me to touch you...," her voice trails off as the palm of her hand drags down the pale torso of her wife, resting at her lower abdomen. The brunette exhales with need. Piper lays her body along that of the brunette, the skin of their stomach's are pressed together with sticky heat.
"Are you wet?
The brunette glares at her heavily, "why don't you check?"
"Mmmm," the blonde elicits as her fingers are coated in her wife's arousal. She moves her slippery hand in wide circles brushing past her clit no quicker than every few seconds. It feels like an eternity, anticipating the contact at her most sensitive spot, she wants to keep Piper's hand right where she wants her most. She likes to tease, she doesn't like being the recipient; she moves her hips in rhythm with Piper's hand, raising them each time the blonde teases her. Lost in the moment, she doesn't know how long the contact has been broken when the skin along her torso feels cool. She opens her eyes, Piper's kneeling between her legs, her hand still working her over, her eyes stare at the brunette's sex.
The brunette folds her leg in some toward her center, self consciously. Piper pushes her leg back wider, with a chuckle, "you're sooo wet."
She twists the base of her pajama shorts in her fist and releases it. The hair elastic that can only be twisted once over her ponytail, holds her hair away from her face. She leans her elbow onto the countertop of the kitchenette in her studio, her index finger swirls the business card around the formica. She exhales and dials the number.
"Hello?"
"So, is this really your number or were you just fucking with me?"
"Who is this?"
"Nicky?"
"Um?," there's hesitation.
"Harper's aunt? Finger in the socket."
"Oh, OH! Nicole?"
"Hey, if you're going to keep going with that, we should prob end this before it starts."
Laughter is heard from the other end. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I'm just messing with you. I thought you weren't going to call."
"Sorry it took a few."
"That's alright, you know just spent the last few days overanalyzing everything that could possibly be wrong with me. No biggie."
Nicky chuckles, "so, you like what you saw huh?"
"Oh, I'm glad you didn't have to work so hard to get back your confidence there." Nicky smirks and plucks around with the ends of her hair.
"Sorry I didn't just give you my number directly. I just didn't want to be rejected face to face."
"You don't have to justify your chickening out. So how's your week looking? Would you be up for getting a drink?" She opens and closes the doors to her kitchen cabinets repeatedly.
"Yeah, a drink would be great. How's Friday night?"
"Ah, Friday nights aren't good for me. Would Thursday night work?"
"Thursday night is fine, but then I really can only have one drink. I'm holding you responsible for that."
"Not a problem." Thursday seems like so far away. "Maybe I'll pick up Harper earlier in the week."
"Maybe I'll keep my eyes pealed."
"Night Francesca."
"See you soon Nicky."
Despite her casual offers to bring Harper from school to dancing school, Alex assured her that she'd be dropped off by another classmates parent. Alex knew she'd gotten digits from Harper's dance teacher, via nonchalant admission from Piper. "I guess you could pick her up from dancing school for me."
"Yeah, definitely, if that'll help you out I mean."
"Yeah it'll really help me out."
Nicky gets to Harper's dance school, an hour ahead of schedule and peaks through the plexi- glass at her niece and subtly wags her fingers at Francesca before taking a seat. Soon after Alex comes in and takes a seat beside her.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"Coming to watch my kid dance."
"I said I'd pick her up!"
"Did you think I'd miss an opportunity to watch you drool over Chessie?"
"I'm not drooling over her. I happen to enjoy watching Harper dance," she raises her hand at her niece who just landed her pirouette from fifth position.
"Yes!," Alex says slapping her daughter an air high five through the glass. "Nick, you got a little something," she rubs her thumb along her bottom lip, "right here."
"Asshole."
"So did you already make plans or what?"
"Were having drinks Thursday night," she says sitting on her hands.
"Well what the hell'd you have to come today for?"
"Just to say hey, nothing else."
"You couldn't wait til Thursday. Jesus."
"Can you please not give me shit for this? Just once I'm asking you to mask that cocky smirk."
"No promises," she says giggling. She stands up and watches Harper some more and subtly checks out her daughter's dance teacher. "She's pretty Nichols."
"She is right? I'm not like blinded by my horniness or anything?"
"Nah, you did good," she reassures her. She looks again at the woman who's teaching her daughter how to angle her foot properly and silently hopes that this woman doesn't break her best friend's heart.
As Harper's class comes plummeting out the door, Chessie talks to Harper on the side,
"Any tips?," she asks the girl before they walk out, "do you know what kind of food she likes to eat for dinner?"
"Chili!," she says excitedly remembering her aunt's favorite food, "she's addicted to my mom's chili!"
"Your mom's chili huh? Well I don't know if I can make that, anything else?"
"Hmmm," she says and taps her foot, "tacos! She definitely likes tacos and Margaret's. My moms and her laughs a lot when they have Margaret's and..."
"That's enough Harper," Alex steps in and cuts her off before she ruins Nicky's chance before she even gets on her first date, "hi," she says acknowledging Nicky's new love interest.
"Hi," she says standing straight up and slowly walking them all out to the waiting area.
"Hi, Nicky," she says and lures the wild haired woman over to a space so they can speak privately. They finalize their plans, Alex catches the bits of flirtation Nicky makes with her mouth as this woman's eyes stare her friend down. It's good to see her out there doing her thing, she thinks to herself. She helps Harper get dressed, her daughter also can't help but feel excited that her aunt is planning on going on a date with Miss Chessie. Harper looks at Alex and giggles, as Nicky makes her way back over to Alex and Harper, she darts over to Miss Chessie.
"And she likes to do crafts. She makes really great bracelets!"
A few days later, Harper runs to the intercom buzzer and let's Nicky in.
Alex confusedly waits by their front door, not expecting Nicky to have stopped by; her tonsils practically oclude her airway, her jaw is dropped so low.
Her hands rest on her friends shoulders, "I think the only time I've ever seen your hair like this was when I got married," she pulls her into a hug. She knows Nicky's stomach is tumbling around if she went to a salon to get her hair straightened.
"Please help me," she says raising her arms which are filled with a bulky garment bag.
"Oh wow, wow!," Harper says excitedly, "your hair is so pretty." She let's the mini Vauseman run her hand over her hair once as she can't help herself.
"Thanks kid," she says nervously. "Vause really I'm gonna ralph. I only did some of my makeup because I couldn't find the eyelash curler and I was gonna stop for one on the way over but I knew you'd have one so I figured I could just use yours."
"Yeah of course, Harper can you go in my bathroom and grab my make up bag? You know what? Just grab the basket under the sink."
She nods excitedly and bolts to her mother's bathroom.
She starts to unzip the garment bag and pulls out two dresses, one that is sleeveless but has a high neck line and one that has a deep boat neck with capped sleeves.
She holds them both up, and before the brunette can give her opinion Jamie traipses past toward the kitchen, "aunt Nicky?," he asks surprised.
"Hi Jamie, wanna help?"
"Not even a little bit. You look really...nice," he says and heads to the kitchen.
She holds both dresses up again and in unison both Alex and Harper both point to her left hand, "that one," the one that holds the dress with with the deep boat neck and capped sleeves.
"Really? You don't think, I'd be...on display?"
"Like you care."
"What if she asks...," the brunette cuts her off.
"Then she asks, and you just tell it like it is Nick." She takes the rejected dress from Nicky and starts putting it away, "are you picking her up or what?"
"Meeting her there."
"Are you going to bring her a flower?," Harper asks as she's learned this is a suitable way to greet someone on a date.
"I wasn't going to. Do you think I should?," she asks Alex as she starts to walk toward their bathroom to change.
"I always think it starts the night on the right foot."
"Agreed on the flower thing," Jamie says sipping his soda and walks back to his room.
She steps into the bathroom, slightly humiliated for mulling over advice from not only her 7 yr old niece but also her 12 year old nephew.
"Just a rose or something simple," Alex reassures her from the other side of the bathroom door. She steps out of the bathroom and looks herself over.
"Nick, I might cry," she says pushing her friend back toward the living room so she can finish her eye makeup.
"As much as I'd love to see you cry over me, if you're eyes are watery, you won't be able to see straight and then you'll fuck up,..." she pauses and looked at Harper, "sorry kid, mess up my face, so if you could hold out I'd forever indebted."
"I'll try to contain myself," she beckons for her to sit by the lamp and tilt her head back. She tries to angle her arm, but can't get a good angle. She has Nicky get up, she takes a seat on the couch and has her friend sit on the floor and tilt her head back. She asks Harper to hold the flashlight on her phone over her aunts face so she can curl her eyelashes and apply her mascara neatly. She uses the little comb removing any excess mascara globs and taps her on the head, "voila!"
Harper squees as Nicky sits up and goes to check herself out in their bathroom mirror. "Can you do makeup for me next?"
"Harper, you wear makeup for recitals only," she says in a tone that she's used time and time again, whenever her daughter asks to wear makeup. She starts to pack up the eyeliner and mascara.
"Please mama, just for pretend," she says pulling the eyeliner back out, "just here on the corners," she points to the edge of her eye indicating she wants a winged tip.
"You always ask me to do it like that."
"But you never want to." She hands Alex the eyeliner and looks at her with sad eyes.
The brunette frowns to the side, "Harper don't give me that look."
She looks back at her mother innocently, "what look?" She blinks slowly working the puppy look that she was born with thanks to Piper and mastered thanks to her brother.
Nicky comes out of the bathroom , "thanks Vause, wish me luck." Harper gives her a tight hug, Alex tells her to relax and just be herself and let her know how it goes. She locks up and Harper follows her every step back into the living room.
Alex flops onto the couch, and snickers at the little face that's inches from her own.
"Come," she says patting the couch. Harper leans into the couch and Alex gently adjusts her so her head it tilted under the light and she begins drawing a line over her daughters upper lid.
"Did grandma Diane do your makeup for you when you were little?"
Her hand freezes at the corner of her eye, "just," she breathes, "in the house like this." She continues the winged tip. "I learned by practicing in the mirror, she didn't like me wearing makeup either," she says pressing her forehead against Harper's. She pulls back and tilts her head to the other side to start on the opposite eye.
"But why?"
"Because your face is beautiful without it. And it makes you look older." She replaces the cap over the pencil and runs a hand over Harper's head.
"Can you make my hair straight like aunt Nicky's?"
"No babe, it'll take a long time and you have school tomorrow."
"Can we try this then?," she asks opening Alex's phone to YouTube. She pulls up a video of a girl mixing water with blue sidewalk chalk and brushing it through her hair.
Alex nervously laughs, did she research this? "Harper...," she starts.
"It washes out," she reasons, "when I take a shower, it will come out. Pleaseeee, I just want to see how it looks."
Hellion! She curses to herself as she's dragged to the bathroom, where she uses a toothbrush to brush a streak of the color through her daughters hair.
She walks up to the bar, Francesca is standing outside waiting. Her hair is down, it's much longer than she'd ever imagined, and without the gel holding it back in a bun it's more auburn than she realized.
"Well aren't you just an eyeful?"
Francesca's hand immediately moves toward Nicky's hair, her fingers graze the smoothness, "I almost didn't recognize you."
"Yeah I know, I'm quite the peach when I try. Meanwhile I can barely fuckin walk in these," she says bending her leg at the knee so her heel comes close to her ass.
"Yeah well, you didn't have to get all glammed up for me. I like the Janis Joplin hair too, otherwise I wouldn't have given you my number."
Nicky glares at her.
"I mean, I appreciate the Miss Porter's makeover," she says with a laugh, "you look very nice."
Nicky rocks back on her heels, her blush now warming her frostbitten cheeks. "Oh," she unbuttons the top button of her coat and pulls out the rose, "this is for you."
Francesca looks shocked, not taking her for a person who would straighten her hair and buy a date flowers; she takes the rose and looks down slightly at the shorter woman, "thanks it's beautiful. I was sort of expecting a bracelet made of yarn or something."
They stare at each other for a brief moment, Nicky wants to ask what she's talking about but she refrains, "you want to go in?," she points to the door of the restaurant.
"Do you want to look at the menu or anything first? They have taco's, so I thought it would be okay, but there's a Mexican place not far from here if you want something more authentic."
"What? This place is fine," she says not believing this woman is making as much of a fuss as she did over the smallest things. She opens the door and holds it open for Francesca, "how'd you know I like taco's?"
She grins, "I heard from a reliable source, that you liked taco's and that you enjoy doing crafts," her cheeks turn slightly pink as she walks past Nicky into the restaurant.
As they're seated, she asks, "does this reliable source, resemble a muppet?"
Francesca laughs out loud, "maybe. A really cute one."
"I love that kid," she confesses. "So... how'd you become a dance teacher?"
"Didn't make it as a dancer," she says bluntly, "this way I still get to dance, and I can help kids who still might have a chance at making that dream come true."
The waiter comes over to take their drink order, Francesca raises an eyebrow, "margarita?"
"Sure," Nicky says amused.
"Reliable source," Francesca explains, "actually I was told you like Margaret's. Wasn't sure if I should change my name."
Nicky purses her lips and laughs at what she assumes was Harper's attempt to help out her dance teacher, "so you still dance?"
"Everyday. I don't want to be one of those teachers who barks out the steps. I want to be able to demonstrate for them."
"I bet you're flexible."
Francesca tongues her cheek and laughs, "that's more of a second date kind of thing."
"Uh uh, I kind of need to know if you're flexible before I commit myself to a second date."
Francesca sips her margarita and points to the ceiling, "I love this song," she says as Paula Cole's "Feeling Love," plays overhead.
Nicky looks up and tries to make out the lyrics, all she hears is "you make me feel like the Amazon's running between my thighs." She feels her body tense some at the lyrics when she hear's,
"what's with the scar?"
She forks a mouthful of taco salad into her mouth, "that's more of a second date type of thing."
"Uh uh, either you tell me or there is no second date."
Her mouth drops slighty, "you're going to play it like that, huh?"
"I am, someone cracked your chest to make a scar like that. I need the story."
"I needed open heart surgery, to keep me alive...from a septic infection I acquired from using dirty needles... when I shot myself up with heroin."
She eyeballs her for a minute, not knowing if she was serious.
"Aren't you glad you asked?," she raises an eyebrow while stabbing a hunk of avocado.
She takes a deep breath and a moment, "so heroin and Harper's mother's chili?"
Nicky looks up curiously.
"Your addictions," Francesca clarifies, "Harper said you had an addiction to her mother's chili. I'm assuming she didn't mention the heroin because she doesn't know."
"Nah," she shakes her head, "she doesn't know. I'm sure she knows something, her ma's been coming with me to meetings forever. More for the moral support than anything else."
"She's a good friend then?"
"Yeah, shes the best."
"How long have you been clean for?," she asks and sips her margarita.
She puts down her fork, and goes through her purse in search for her wallet. She looks across the table, Francesca has slight worry in her eyes, hoping that she wont say something like one or two months since she last used.
She pulls out a sobriety chip and hands it to her across the table, "I got that chip when I hit fifteen years."
Her eyes go wide as she turns the chip over and over in her hand. She brings it over to the light of the candle and studies the details,"that's quite an accomplishment."
"I know it's just a stupid chip, but it would kill me to have to give it back, or even worse, for it to become a dirty chip that I'd have to look at everyday."
"It's not a stupid chip. I'm sure you went through hell to stay clean and not give into the compulsion."
Nicky's eyebrows narrow, as she nods. She gives her a look inquiring if she's also dealt with drug use. "Did you?"
She shakes her head quickly, "no, I mean I've grown up around dance my whole life, eating disorders and the like, so I'm not a stranger to the whole religion of compulsory behavior, but that was a long time ago." Her hand comes up to hand Nicky back her chip. She takes her hand in both of her own and squeezes, dragging her thumb across the shorter woman's wrist. She keeps one hand on Nicky's and uses her other to lift her glass to toast, "to having more control."
Nicky's eyes come from Francesca's hand and up to her eyes, she chuckles at the irony, to having more control, when I feel like I have anything but. She lifts her glass and clinks it against that of the other woman, causing the margarita to slosh in a slight wave, she chuckles, "to having more control."