Tempted (11 page)

The fellows online have been murmuring as usual.
 
Stuart from the UK has taken to inventing strange, unnecessary kitchen gadgets in hopes of raising funds to come to the States and sweep me off my feet ‘Sinatra style,’ whatever that means exactly.
 
Instead of socking away any cash, the dear chap has actually gone into debt on patents for his funny little inventions.
 
Sadly, no one has expressed interest in any of his gizmos
–
not even close friends and family!

Ed, the line
-
dancing birdwatcher, whom I enjoy picturing engaging in both of those activities simultaneously, has been making advances in awkward fits and starts.
 
He has recently read the 1990’s women’s Bible,
The Rules
, and continually inform
s me what I really think, feel, want and expect from men and life.
 
His presumptions have yet to hit the mark.
 
The icing on the cake is his proud declaration that he has acqu
ired a prescription for Viagra *
wink win
k*
.
 
Ugh!

Thank goodness for Alex.
 
He is always inspiring, engaging and entertaining.
 
Gad, how the heck did his name wander into a rumination of my potential paramours?
 
He’s just a Facebook friend whose posts I enjoy.
 
In fact, I wonder what’s on his page right now.

My chortling elicits a hiss from Jasper.
 
Alex is always good for a chuckle
...
or flirty giggle.
 
It’s so refreshing to come across a man who seems cool and confident, smart and sensual, deep and desirous, and generally, a very good egg.
 
April would get a kick out of some of his recent posts.
 
I miss the outrageous comment battles we use
d to wage together on Facebook, b
ut, since her account got hacked
,
she has more or less left the site, too busy to fritter
away
her time as we once did together.
 
At least she still texts occasionally or I’d never hear from her.
 
She is the female perspective I crave given that so many of my friends are males these days.
 
It certainly hasn’t been by choice that my friendships have skewed masculine.
 
With the success of the talk show
,
it’s become more and more difficult to cultivate quality relationships with women.
 
They tend to either use me as their personal shrink, are competitive with me, or more laughable yet, are intimidated by me
–
which I wi
ll never understand.
 
I used to socialize with Danielle, my producer at the radio station, but she moved out of state for a great new job and we haven’t managed to keep in touch.

But, no matter.
 
I’ve made a few engaging female friends online.
And, loathe as I am to admit it, Mom and I have become closer
–
ever since the muddied white pants incident.
 
Her reaction was not one of anger.
 
Just the opposite.
 
It was respect!
 
That snarky, passive-aggressive maneuver on my part caused my own mother to treat me with kindness and compassion for the first time in my life.
 
Heck, if I’d known that’s all it would take, I would have pelted her with mud pies years ago!
 

Mom and I have been spending a lot more time together, including quiet time.
 
We have grown to enjoy one another’s company to the point that we’ll spend afternoons together, each doing our own thing.
 
Every now and then
,
she will hear me guffaw about something I notice on Facebook and she’ll ask to see it for herself.
 
Just last week she called late at night to tell me she’d made a decision
–
she wants a Facebook account and I have the privilege of setting it up for her.

When I do so
,
she enjoys it so much that she has me create accounts for most of her church buddies, who have collectively become
instant
addicts.
 
Mom’s even found Farmville and, begrudgingly, I feel obliged to show her the ropes, which I’d learned from my own obsession with the game during my first weeks on Facebook.
 
Soon
,
Mom’s farm is the envy of all her friends, and she is quite satisfied and smug about its awesomeness.
 
Deja vu.

Mom has invited me to be friends on Facebook and our relationship momentarily reverts t
o its antagonistic former state
when I decline her kind offer.
 
I give some lame excuse about only using the site for business and how she’d be bored by all of my business posts.
 
She’s not buying it.
 
When I tell her that I don’t even interact with April there, she seems somewhat placated.
 
While she likes April as a person, my mom has always harbored a hefty dose of jealousy when it comes to anyone who steals a piece of my heart or large chunks of my time.
 
In fact, she reminds me a lot of my pup Persephone in some ways.
 
The thought makes me laugh aloud
,
considering how anti-pet my mom is.
 
Having spent many summers on her grandparents’ farm, she just can’t seem to embrace the concept of having animals around
,
unless they are to fatten up for a family meal.

It really has been fun getting to know Mom.
 
Turns out she was something of a wild child in her early twenties.
 
Though a teetotaler now, she’s been sharing old photos with me
,
and I’ve seen some mighty glamorous snapshots of her back in the day.
 
This is a side of her I haven’t seen, photos in which she’s
fettaskettering
and
casamotoring
–
her crowd’s underground lingo for
‘
smoking
’
and
‘
drinking.
’
 
Wow, she was beautiful
–
movie star beautiful, actually.

Two topics she has not changed her opinions on over the years are religion and sex.
 
She was very involved in her church’s youth ministry growing up
,
and is equally involved with church-related activities now.
 
All of her friends are from her church
,
and Mom is on more committees than I can list, some with long and preposterous names that I claim to forget just so I can ask her to repeat them for my amusement.
 
They crack me up in the same way Dickens’ fictitious business name, The United Metropolitan Improved Hot Muffin and
 
Crumpet
 
Baking and
 
Punctual Delivery
 
Company, does in
Nicholas Nickleby
.

Her favorite part of church work is the Flower Committee, and rumor has it, the pastor has thanked me in front of the congregation for the lovely floral arrangements I’ve donated to the church.
 
Donation, nothing
–
Mother
’s been
pilfer
ing my flowers!

As for Mom’s view of sex, well
…
let’s just say that she’s appalled that I would ever patronize a movie that is rated R, or that has partial nudity.
 
If she ever found out that I wore a thong bikini to the beach in my college days, she would surely cut me out of her will.
 

I would swear on a stack of Bibles
–
King James’ version, in deference to Mom
–
that she only had sex twice in her whole life:
when she conceived my sister and when she conceived me.
 
We rarely talk about Erica.
 
She was much older than I
,
and died as a young woman.
 
While we never got the chance to get to know each other as well as I would have liked, I was very fond of her.
 
She was a hoot!
 
Mom and she weren’t particularly close and I’ve always found it odd that Mom didn’t make more of an effort to bond with
me,
considering what she’d been through.
 
Then again, maybe she did try to get close to me in her own way.
 
If that’s the case, it’s finally paid off because at this point in my life
,
I couldn’t ask for a better mother.

During our hangout sessions, which now take place two or three times a week, Mom loves to creep up behind me to look over my shoulder at the computer screen, especially if I’m cracking up about something or smiling stupidly.
 
She’s a stealthy little thing, part ninja really.
 
Every now and again
,
she manages to sneak up on me completely unawares, and I nearly jump out of my skin when she asks too loudly, right by my ear, “Whatcha lookin’ at?”
 
It wouldn’t really be a problem
,
but she has an uncanny kna
ck for doing it exactly when I’
m viewing something racy.
 
The saving grace is that when there’s raunch in written form only, without imagery to back it up, she never gets what the content is about.
 
Thank heavens she doesn’t watch current network TV or she would catch on more readily than my comfort zone could tolerate.

All in all, it’s quite lovely having my mom as my new best friend.
 
And my garden has never looked lovelier.

Dear Claire,

There’s this guy I really like.
 
We’re going on our first date tomorrow and he’s cooking dinner for me and everything.
 
I am really excited but I’m also scared to death.
 
He’s really smart and worldly and I don’t know how to act or what to talk about or wear.
 
Help!!!

Signed, Kelly

“Sweet Kelly, j
ust relax.
 
Be yourself and have fun!
 
Try not to think too much and remember to breathe.
 
If you find yourself getting nervous, just turn your attention to what he’s saying and really listen to him.
 
He must be interested in you or he wouldn’t have invited you in the first place.
 
And any man who offers to cook for you is worth his weight in beans.
 
Now go have a wonderful time and report back afterwards.
 
I want to hear all about it!

“Well
,
that ends today’s show, cheries
.
 
Please join me next week for our topic:
 
Genie Wishes
–
How to make dreams come true for both you and your man.
 
Ciao for now.
 
Mwah!”

Well that was easy!
 
In fact, that was probably the most effortless response I can remember giving on my show.
 
Time for a little victory celebration.
 
Let’s see.
 
I could do with something fruity today.
 
Citrusy perhaps.
 
Light-bodied, not too dry.
 
Definitely something with a full
bouquet.
 
B&J’s Lemonade Sorbet
it is.
 
And a relaxing visit to my new favorite hangout:
 
Alex’s Facebook page.