Page 18 of The PTA President
“I don’t want you to leave.” Her eyes are big and watery as she looks up at me, and it breaks my heart a little, knowing I can’t kiss her and make it better.
“Go, shower and get ready. The girls and I will work on the kitchen.” I point to the pre-teens battling over the boombox again. “I promise we’ll turn the music down so the neighbors don't riot.”
“Okay, but no more swearing.” She pinches my arm before heading upstairs to her shower.
“Fuck,” I tease.
She heads upstairs without another word, and every part of me screams and begs for me to follow. My fantasy turns into a full-blown porno as I let my filthy imagination run wild, picturing her stripping off her clothes until she’s in nothing but a silk bra and matching panty.
The thin material would slide easily off her creamy skin, littering the floor. Goosebumps would erupt over her as she slowly entered the shower, adjusting the temperature. Her breasts, big and heavy, would drip with soapy water as she rinsed her hair before shampooing those big blonde waves. Pink nipples would perk up when she lifted her hands to scrub her hair, allowing shampoo to slide down her toned stomach and bare pussy.
“Nat, come help us, dude,” Kate scolds, obliterating my dirty dream of her mom.
Grabbing a handful of blueberries from the counter, I drown out my nasty thoughts to better focus on the twinners and act like a respectable adult. Instead of the degenerate that’s itching for a taste of the soaking wet woman upstairs.
“Alright, girlies. Let’s discuss how Travis Barker is better than Dave Grohl in today’s lesson of Rock 101.”
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 stageof 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 inorgasms?”
