Lex(9)
Standing in my birthday suit, Roni doesn’t bat an eyelash. We’ve seen each other nude a million times since high school. It’s not a big deal.
“Can I help you?”
She’s frozen, staring at me, her chest rising and falling, heaving for breath. Something has her all in a huff on this beautiful spring morning.
“Your mother came to my apartment this morning to deliver two sets of flowers. Except they’re not for me, they’re for you. They had the address wrong, so now I have two huge bouquets from two different men sitting in your kitchen, on the table. Would you care to explain?” Tapping her foot, she sets her hand on her waist, lips drawn into a taut but cute line that I can’t help but smile at.
“It’s not funny, Lex. You give me shit about having you set up that account and now a Donald and a Corey are sending you flowers. Not cool amigo. Not cool at all.”
“Donald is the guy from the meeting last Monday. This is the fourth bouquet from this week. Apparently not getting a response when he sent them to the office he decided to deliver them to my residence. I can’t control that. And I ran into Corey on that site. It’s high school Corey, you know who I’m talking about, and we’re having lunch today. I didn’t tell you because I know you well enough to know you’ll be getting your hopes up for nothing. I’m not marrying the man, not that I could if I wanted to.”
I’m certain that explanation sufficed because her shoulders visibly relax and she loses the grim expression, replacing it with a tiny smile.
“Good, okay, do your yoga, I’ll make some tea and meet you downstairs in an hour. Sorry, you know I hate flowers and being woken up. Evidently Mom decided she hasn’t gotten that memo the past ten plus years. You’d think since we’ve been best friends forever, she’d have thought to not wake grumpy Veronica up.”
Chuckling, I walk over and pull her into a hug. Turning her into a stiff board, she’s not comfortable with affection, but deals with it only if it’s coming from me, my mother and possibly Bob. I have no idea; I haven’t seen them two together. They spend most of their personal time alone in her apartment. I know what they’re doing. Occasionally she forgets she’s left a window open and being the screamer I know she is, I get to hear the entire show, play-by-play. Including and not limited to; multiple orgasms, dirty talk and sometimes gaging. I don’t know what that means. I don’t want to know. So I don’t ask. Her sex life is hers and hers alone. Now, when it comes to mine, she thinks she should have all the say and control it. However, I have other plans.
Releasing her from her hug, Roni uncomfortably dismisses herself from my bedroom and I shut the door behind her.
“How was yoga?” Roni asks sitting at my table in the same clothes she left my bedroom wearing.
“Great as usual.” I reply, taking a seat across from her at the breakfast table and my tea is ready and our newest biscotti flavor is sitting on my pretty plates. Lemon, blueberry, almond biscotti, I picked them up from Barbie’s Bakery yesterday during lunch. When you think of Barbie, you think of dolls, and pink, or that’s what I think of. Barbie’s Bakery sits three shops down from my mom’s on Paramour Avenue. Which by the way is the worst name, in the history of names, to call the main street that runs through the middle of our small city.
Any who, back to what I was saying. Barbie’s Bakery is a confectionary and dough haven, the entire shop looks like it was plucked right out of the fifties. Big glass display cases, bright pink walls, black rotating stools sit at a six person ice-cream bar. It is by far the most adorable store in all of Heartfair. Plus, like Dolly, Barbie the owner is the sweetest woman. She and Dolly are best friends, and have been since high school. How sweet is that?
“So, other than Corey, have you decided on a date with anyone else from that site?” I can tell Roni is treading lightly. Normally she’s more forward and jerkish about stuff like this.
“No, I have no interest.” I’m firm with my answer, even though I’m not being entirely truthful. The Suit Master has sort of been on my mind a lot. After receiving two more emails from him this week. That were just as eloquent, funny and well versed as the first one. I’ve been hard pressed to find a reason not to reply.
Time for a subject change, no more about Lex, how about we talk about Roni, that is sure to make her even more uncomfortable.
“So, Roni, how are you and the hunk-of-burnin’ love from Auto’s doing?” I ask, placing my orange infused tea to my lips. Mmmm, this is delicious. Who am I kidding? All tea is delicious. Some people are coffee addicts. I’m a tea addict.