Page 16 of The PTA President
“Thank you,” it’s barely a whisper as her eyes shut, letting sleep take over. The smell of her detergent is a familiar floral scent. It’s sweet, cute, and I wanna cuddle up in it, so that’s exactly what I do, with absolutely no intention of leaving.
ChaptEr 10
Candace
Bright light shines through my sheer lace curtains as the sun rises, interrupting my sleep. Turning away, I feel a warmth that’s been missing from my bed for years. Natalie, still in her sweats from last night, lies sprawled out with her arm over my body, still asleep. Confusion momentarily fogs my memory until I retrace the night I ruined.
The phone call from my lawyer didn’t go as expected, nor did the conversation with Natalie afterwards. Once Greg moved out, I accessed half of my trust fund, and that’s what we’ve been living on, along with the alimony and monthly child support. Without it, we’ll be living off the trust fund alone, and based on our bills and monthly spending, we’ll dry up by the time the girls move away to college.
Natalie’s lashes flutter against her face, and it’s cute watching her dream. She mentioned staying until I fell asleep, but I don’t recall staying awake long. In fact, last night was the first nightin almost a year I’ve slept through the night without medication. The anxiety was getting so bad that I’d lie awake staring at the ceiling, running through all the things I wasn’t able to juggle.
Her presence alone put me at ease so much I had a blissful night's sleep. Thankfully, it’s the weekend, so we’re all free to lazily spend the morning lounging in bed. The faint sound of the TV downstairs means the girls are already up, arguing over the remote. I spied on them for longer than I let on last night, but I couldn’t help it. The girls found everything about Natalie enthralling. It was like a bright, new, shiny toy just for them.
“Morning,” she groans against my pillow, her morning voice hoarse and scratchy.
“Good morning. Fancy seeing you here.” Scooting up against the headboard, I put my arm next to her.
She smiles against the pillow and wipes the sleep from her eyes. “Women in silk robes made your mattress in heaven. I’m never leaving. This is my home now.”
There’s a soft flutter in my stomach after she says it. I can’t put my finger on it, maybe it’s excitement or just the thought of another night of peaceful sleep, and what a dream come true that would be.
“Do you have plans today? “Can you be convinced to stay if I make pancakes?” I poke her at her exposed stomach.
“You know what they say about feeding strays… once you start, they’ll never leave.” When she reaches for my hand, I let her take it, enjoying the feel of her little fingers intertwined with mine. I’ve never held hands with a woman before. The soft touches and hand grazes have made me grow needy for her. Have I gone without the touch of a man for so long that now I’m so desperate, I’ll take it from anybody?
“I’ve gotta go check on the girls. The shower’s just in there if you’d like one. My towels are so cozy, you’ll love them, and I’m sure I have some extra clothes you can change into.”
“Mm-hmm,” she groans into the pillow, then slowly slides off the bed, making her way to the bathroom. Note to self: she’s not a morning person. Another note: there’s no coffee here, and I know how dependent she is on caffeine.
“Girls!” I jump off my bed and run down stairs to the living room, where they’re perched, engrossed in Saturday morning music videos.
“Mom, can we have blueberry pancakes?” Madison asks, tucked under a warm yellow blanket she’s sharing with her sister.
“Yes, sure. But first, I need a favor. Go next door and ask Mrs. Henderson if we can borrow some instant coffee and creamer, whatever she has,” I beg, still out of breath from my run.
“You don’t drink coffee.” Kate side eyes me, then returns to the shirtless dancing boy band.
“Natalie slept over, and she needs caffeine. If she doesn’t get some, who knows what damage she’ll do.” I know I sound insane, especially to my girls, but at this point, I’m desperate for another good night's sleep, so if coffee keeps her here, then I’ll grind it myself.
Their blanket goes flying to the floor as they both bolt from the couch. “She had a sleepover? Can she stay for the day? We downloaded more music for her this morning.” Seems we’re all in a bit of a panic this morning.
“Yes, just go get coffee and hurry,” I say pointing to the front door. Out they go, barefoot and beautiful, running to get my…my friend coffee. Why can’t I come up with a more accurate description? She’s not my lover, I mean, good grief, just because we slept in the same bed, and went to a concert together, and she’s bonding with my kids…
This is all Court's fault, filling my head with things that aren’t true about this friendship. I run back upstairs and pause my train of thought when shower steam exits my bedroom and Ihear the shower door shut. There’s the most luxurious robe in there she’d love, so I creep inside, not wanting to scare her. The fog hasn’t fully covered the glass door, only a partial outline, leaving her body on display.
Seeing a naked woman shouldn’t be interesting. We all have the same parts, it’s nothing new. Occasionally, in the locker room at the country club, someone with more confidence than me will walk by in their birthday suit. I've taken a peek, but never in a lustful way. In the privacy of my own home, though, with a woman I’ve grown an attachment to feels more intimate than a locker room.
Her back faces me, giving me an up-close view of her round bottom. High and lifted, like a twenty-three-year-old’s backside should look. She lathers her back with my white loofah, water running down her long legs. Droplets fall from her sleek black hair to the floor as she moves.
I know this is wrong, but I don’t move. Steam rolls across the mirror, nearly hiding her as she turns. I stay behind the closet door, caught somewhere between curiosity and outright perversion.
The water turns off, and the door flies open, steam billowing out. I freeze, trying not to breathe or blink as Natalie steps out, dripping, searching for a towel. I’m definitely going to hell for this. I’ve never felt like this about a woman before. Not even close.
My pulse rises and my eyes widen when she waltzes towards the towels I left out. Her breasts are large, much bigger than mine, and I’m not exactly small. They’re higher too, with more fullness on the sides, another blessing of her age, I’m sure she takes for granted. Her nipples, a dusty rose color, are perky from the lack of breastfeeding she’s done. Sprinkled across them are droplets of water, and my fingers tingle with the urge to wipethem dry.What is wrong with me?This is the worst kind of intrusive thought, and will lose me a friend if I don’t ignore it.
The front door slams, alerting the house that my coffee delivery is here.
“Nat, we’ve got coffee for you,” Madison shouts. She continues drying her body and puts back on her clothes from last night, leaving me alone and thanking my lucky stars she didn’t find me in here. Here I stand, a sex-starved mom who’s gone so long without an orgasm she’s resorted to spying on women in the shower. There’s got to be a self-help book for fascination with the female form.
