Dating For Decades (7 page)

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Authors: Tracy Krimmer

BOOK: Dating For Decades
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“I guess. He’d rather watch sports than get down and dirty with me, though.”

“But you have the boys. Don’t they get in the way of things?” Another reason not to have kids. If I want to chase my man around the house naked at the drop of a dime, or jump in the shower and have crazy sex there, I want to be able to.

“We have a lock on our bedroom door. And they’re in bed by ten at the latest. Instead of sitting and watching TV for another hour and a half, he could join me in the bedroom. Maybe I’m not attractive anymore.” Shannon not attractive? You’ve got to be kidding me. Her hair flows perfectly on her head and her freckles are the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. Back in high school, all the guys wanted to date her. She bypassed them all and chased Ben until he finally asked her out.

“I doubt that. Maybe work is really busy for him. He could just be tired.”

“Well, if he can stay up and watch the game, he can stay up and have sex with me.”

The guy painting her toes glances up and back at her feet. I’m sure we’re embarrassing him. Shannon isn’t bothered by things like this. She can talk about her sex life, her period, her kid’s puke, and she doesn’t care. Her not having a filter comes as a positive
and
a negative sometimes. I lack discreetness at times as well, but I’m tame compared to my best friend.

“Have you ever tried putting the moves on him? Maybe strip down in front of the television?”

“Yep.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.”

Wow. I find it hard to believe her husband wouldn’t jump her bones if she stood there naked, ready, willing, and able. No wonder she feels rejected. I would, too.

“I’m sorry, hon.”

She covers her eyes with her pointer and index fingers. “It’s fine. I’m not the woman I used to be.” Her voice squeaks as her lips curve downward into a frown. She’s fighting back the tears.

“You’re right. You’re not. You’re a gorgeous, hardworking mother who puts aside
everything
for her family. That’s a far cry from the party girl I went to high school with.”

“Maybe he wants that party girl back.”

“Ben?” I’m not sure we’re talking about the same person. “He can barely lift himself off the couch some days. I doubt he wants to go out and party. He’d never make it past ten.”

She takes her hands off her eyes and starts giggling. “You’ve got that right.”

Most days when I visit Shannon and Ben is home, he’s lying on the couch with his hand down his pants like Al Bundy. A beer settles in his other hand while he yells at the television. Don’t get me wrong — he’s a good dad, and I always thought a decent husband. He works hard and deserves to relax. I didn’t realize trouble lurked beneath the surface of their marriage.

“Maybe you need to talk to him.”

“Ben talk? As in have a conversation about our relationship?” Her laugh makes me laugh uncomfortably. “The last time we had a conversation like that was probably when we got married. He isn’t a feelings kind of guy.”

What constitutes a feelings kind of guy? How hard is it to give a hug or a kiss every once in a while? I’m not one to commit, according to my group, but if I
were
in a committed relationship, I sure would do what I could to keep the relationship going.

“Okay, enough about me. What about this guy trying to join your group? Is he cute?”

“I don’t know.” I do know. And I already know where she’s going with this. The same place she always goes — trying to make me date someone and get married.

“He
is
,” she teases. “Is he so cute you want to go out on a date with him?”

“What? I think we’re a little bit more mature than this.”
 

“Then admit it.”

“Admit what? That he’s cute? Fine. He’s cute. But he’s still not welcome.”

“What about the guy you work with?”

“Lucas?” I spit out, realizing I basically shouted it across the room. “No, no, and more no.”
 

The man finishes polishing my nails, and we both waddle to the drying area to avoid damaging our lacquer. “You’re attracted to him.”

“What? I am not.” Thinking someone is good looking and being attracted to that person are two very different things. I pick through the magazines at the table and decide on
People
.

“Cassie, you’re interested in a lot of men. That’s fine. Give one of them a chance. Maybe you’ll fall for one.”

“Absolutely not.” I want to switch the subject, but the only other topic on my plate is my mother. I don’t want to go into that. Not here, not with Shannon already upset about her relationship with Ben. If I bring up my mother, I know she’ll try and defend her and get upset with me when I refuse to see things her way.

“At least admit they’re both cute.”

I close the magazine and fold it up as though I’m going to swat a fly with it. “Fine. They are both cute. Lucas is young, vibrant, and knows what he wants. Keith is handsome, owns his own business, and wants to hang out with a bunch of women. There. That’s how their dating card reads. Happy?”

“For now.” She grabs a magazine of her own to read. “I still think you’re crazy.”

“I think
you’re
crazy. I’m not letting a man into the group, and if I did, I certainly wouldn’t date him.”

“Is that against the rules?”

“No, because that rule doesn’t exist. Since men aren’t allowed, it’s unnecessary. It would be dumb, though, I couldn’t even imagine.”

She flips open the magazine and stuffs her face in a page. “Oh, but I sure can.”

Chapter

Nine

It’s the perfect day for an event like this. Seventy-five degrees and not a cloud in sight. Tents are spread out in the parking lot, and once I lay my eyes on the snow cone truck, I know I’ll be making a beeline for that later. The smell of barbecue fills the air surrounding the tent where the food will be served. I’m a tad annoyed the bouncy house is right next to where we will be eating, but the kids sure do enjoy it.

Every year our firm holds a back to school event. We gather donations and materials to fill backpacks and buy clothes for the less fortunate children in the area. The firm has been doing it for many years — well before I even started working here — and it’s always a huge success.

Everyone can sponsor a child or make a donation. I give money so I can do it for many kids instead of only one. I set aside two hundred dollars each year for this event. I’m always glad to give money when I can.
 

I’m good at helping to be sure everything runs smoothly. Multiple games are set up for the kids as well as crafts. I’ve assigned volunteers to each area and by the time the event officially begins at eleven, the kids are swarming the area like they’re bees and it’s their hive.
 

Lucas has already beat me to the main tent, and Julian and a few of the interns have joined him. They’re setting up for the pepper eating contest. I don’t mind a pepper here and there but I can’t imagine eating as many as I can in one minute. I’d like to be able to keep all of my senses. And even though the weather is perfect outside, I can’t imagine sweating buckets while eating peppers. The men of the group sure seem excited.

“So which one of you is participating?” I wonder who the brave one will be.

Julian and Lucas both raise their hands. “I fully intend to drive anybody into the ground.” Lucas makes a hand gesture as though he is pushing the competition into the ground.

I can’t say I’m surprised at Lucas’s comment. I wouldn’t expect anything less. He seems kind of like the man’s man who will do anything he can to prove he’s as manly as they come.

“Are you planning on competing?” Julian sets down a plate of the peppers.

“I don’t think so. I like peppers in my Chinese food, but eating nothing
but
peppers? No, thank you.” My mouth is burning just looking at them.

“Are you afraid or something?” Lucas’ words slice through me.

First, he thinks he can come in and take my job from me. Now he questions my abilities at something as dumb as a pepper-eating contest. All he wants is to win and throw it in my face. I glare at him but don’t respond. I can’t let him know he’s pissing me off.
 

“It’s okay if you don’t compete,” Julian says to me. He’s pouring water in glasses and setting them next to each competitor’s spot. I always thought milk was what you were supposed to drink when you had something hot like that. I may know computers, but I guess I don’t know food.

“Are you guys challenging me?”

“No, no.” Lucas waves his hand at me. “I’m not trying to make you feel threatened.”

“I hardly feel threatened,” I say as I cross my arms and jut my hip out. How dare he even suggest that.

“She could’ve fooled me. Right, Julian?”

Now I can’t hold back how mad I am. I wanted to give Lucas the benefit of the doubt and possibly even befriend him. He wants me to compete. He thinks he can kick my butt. He really thinks that if we do this, he’s going to win.

“Fine.” I cave. “Set me a place. I’m in.” I hope I don’t regret this. A burning mouth when it’s nearing eighty degrees, sweating profusely in my work clothes, and maybe some canker sores after this is all done. No. No regrets at all.

“You’re doing this?” Kimmy comes racing up to me. “I think you’re nuts. I would never do that.”

“That’s what separates the girls from the women, Kimmy.” Julian clicks his teeth and pretends to shoot guns.


That’s
what separates us?” I ask. Not the almost twenty year age difference or the level or expertise or the fact that MASH is a TV show for me and for her it’s a grade school game where you determine your future on a piece of paper and whether or not
 
you’ll live in a mansion, apartment, shack, or house? Sure.
That’s
what separates us.

“Cool it, Cass.”


Don’t
call me Cass,” I dart my eyes at Lucas, evil shooting out of them. I hate that nickname. The kids in middle school would say, “Cass, cass you’re such an ass.” I cried so many times in the bathroom. That’s why in high school I took it to a whole new level, changed my style to include skirts and heels, splashed on an appropriate amount of makeup, and even involved myself in some activities. I became pretty darn popular. No one even knew my mom was a drug addict, and I slept at random guys apartments half the time.

“Sorry.” He puts his hands up in surrender. “Seriously, though, are you sure you want to do this?”

“Why wouldn’t I? What’s so hard about it?”

“It’s not that it’s hard. It’s just really,
really
, hot.”

“I can handle plenty of hot things.” I wink at him and immediately wish I could take it back. Why am I flirting with him?
 

He steals a drink from one of the glasses. “Anyway, if you don’t do things like this often, it’s more difficult.”

“Do you participate in pepper-eating contests often?”

“Not peppers, specifically. But hot dogs, pies, barbecue sauces. It’s kind of what I do.”

He shrugs as though this is a normal daily activity for someone to do. I can imagine him in college at frat parties, drunk off his ass and downing twenty hot dogs in a minute. He’s so young, maybe he still does these things on the weekend.

“Well, eating hot peppers isn’t rocket science. I think I can figure this out.” I shove my finger in his face. “And kick your butt in the process.”

Kimmy and Julian ’s heads bounce between us like they’re at a tennis match. We’re probably giving them vertigo.

“Fine. We’ll see. Meet you back here in fifteen.” Lucas shoos my finger out of his face, and he and Julian march off.

I grab onto the back of the folding chair in front of me and shove it under the table. “Damnit!”

“Are you okay?” Kimmy offers her support. Why does Lucas get to me so much? Why does he feel the need to challenge me all the time?
 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” I rake my fingers through my hair. I should put it back. “Can you get me a rubber band?”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

At least someone still views me as a superior. The way Julian has latched onto Lucas I wonder if he even remembers he reports to me, not Lucas. I’ll admit, Lucas is easy to like — for most people. When he’s trying to prove you wrong all the time, he’s not all peaches and cream. I blow my hair out of my face and leave the tent. I can find the rubber band on my own and walk off my frustration in the meantime.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m seated next to Lucas, a pair of latex gloves on my plate. “What are these for?” I pick them up.

“Oh, you’re so cute,” Lucas says as he taps my knee.

“What?”

“Cassie, these are peppers.
Hot
peppers. They can burn your skin, too.”

He shakes his head as I say “Oh,” and look down in embarrassment. What was I thinking? What did I sign up for? I accept my stupidity as I slide on the gloves. The announcer, Danielle from Human Resources, explains the rules, and I already feel the beads of sweat on the back of my neck.
 

I’m ready. I think. I can’t back out. No. If I back out now, Lucas wins and I’ll never hear the end of it. I can’t put up with weeks of teasing from him. I’m doing this.
 

I pick up the first pepper as soon as Danielle announces we can begin. It’s not so bad. In fact, it’s not spicy at all. I take a few bites and chew it up and it’s down. This is a snap. I glance over at Lucas’ plate and he’s already on his third pepper and I haven’t even started the second. No time like the present. I take a bite. This one has a bit of a kick to it, but it’s not too bad. It’s tolerable. Okay, onto number three. I wince at the first bite. That was a tad rough. I slow my chewing and force it down.

Lucas is ahead of me by two peppers. He smiles at me and I smirk back at him. Just because he’s ahead doesn’t mean he’s going to win.

Number three. I take a bite and as soon as I swallow it, I start to cough.
 

“Are you okay?” Lucas asks.

“Yeah. Don’t talk to me. You’re the competition.” I won’t accept his pity.

“Whatever you say, Cass.”

Now I’m fuming. I
just
told him not to use that nickname. I take the next pepper and snap into it without a second thought. Before I can even begin chewing, the sweat dribbles from my forehead and down my cheek. Wow. This one is
hot
. Can I even get it down? Lucas is only one ahead of me now. I have to do this. I force it down, but not before I vomit a little bit in my mouth. If I puke, I’m out. I do the worst and most disgusting thing ever. I swallow it.

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