Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91536 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 458(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
"I won't guess," she says. "Since I know all your handwriting, besides Ivy’s." She unfolds the card and reads aloud. "I didn't learn to swim until I was fifteen."
That's easy. Daniel.
But Cynthia has no clue. She looks around the space with curiosity in her eyes.
"Do we discuss our thoughts? Or go straight to guessing?" Ivy asks.
"Why don't we have everyone speculate on their partner," Mom says. "If it could be true of them or not. I can start." She smiles. "Of course, I know when my boys learned to swim. But you two, I have no idea. Cynthia, I do remember you coming over in that bikini all the time."
"Trying to get Daniel's attention," Cynthia says.
"You did," he says.
"You barely looked at me," she says.
"You just didn't notice," he says.
They exchange a lovey-dovey look.
Which is good, right? There's no sign of jealousy. No worry I'm going to steal his girl.
Maybe this is some non-issue Mama invented.
Mom waves her hand at them how silly and continues, "Ivy, I saw the way you looked at the pool again and again. The way a swimmer does. But maybe I misread. Maybe that's the way someone who learned late looks." Mom motions to the next person clockwise, Cynthia. "Your turn, sweetheart."
"Daniel never did come out to the pool with me," Cynthia says. "He rarely wants to go to the beach. But then I take it for granted too. And now that I think about it, I rarely see him in the water. He usually dips his feet. Or lounges with a beer." She looks at Daniel. "Did you really not know how to swim until you were fifteen?" Surprise fills her voice. She can't believe she didn't know.
"I'm not supposed to tell you yet," he says.
She smiles. "You didn't. Wow. It is his, right?" She looks to Mom.
"Let me ask Ivy and Romeo first." She looks to us. "Could you believe it?"
Ivy taps her chin. "I'd be surprised. I grew up on the swim team. I live in the water. I suppose I haven't ever been to the gym to swim laps with Romeo, but the way he looked at the pool… it wasn't the way I did, but it was with a similar affection for the water."
Mom nods. "He was on the swim team, too."
"I knew there was a reason your shoulders were so sexy." She blushes, but I can't tell if it's a put on or not.
Mom smiles. She's here. She's believing it. "Okay, next confession." She reads from the next folded index card. "Even though I grew up in Southern California, I've never been to Mexico." She smiles. "Well, I know that isn't any of us."
"And you know it's not Cynthia." Daniel laughs. "Since she came with us last year."
"Really?" My eyes go to Ivy. "You didn't tell me that."
"I know." Her blush deepens. "I was embarrassed."
"Why?" I ask.
"It's close. And it's our heritage. Not mine, ethnically, of course, but this was all Mexico once," she says. "It feels wrong, to never visit the country properly."
"You have to come," Mom says. "On our next family trip. If you can stand to spend another week with us."
Since when do we invite girlfriends of three months on family vacations?
I shoot her a curious look.
She waves me off.
"I'd love to." Ivy looks to me with wide eyes. She moves a little closer. Places her hand in mine.
She wants to connect.
Or wants to look like she wants to connect.
Of course. This is a pivotal moment in a relationship. Meeting the family. Finding acceptance there.
I squeeze her hand and lean in closer, but I don't kiss her. Instead, I rest my forehead against hers.
She melts into the gesture for a long moment then she pulls back with a smile. The easy intimacy of a couple in love.
It's a sensation I don't recognize. A glimpse of a life I've never had.
The ability to connect with someone, to feel true intimacy, to grab a hit of love anytime you need it.
I can see how that gets addicting.
The she scoots back to her original seat, and that feeling is gone. Only reality remains. We're playing a game on top of a game.
None of this is real.
We go through another round of silly answers. Daniel's secret hatred of mezcal. It tastes like licking a barbeque.
Cynthia's secret stash of gossip magazines. Ivy's best friend knows details about our sex life. She's never told me that. But, of course, I assumed.
I did tell her to go wild. Share with anyone.
Women either want to keep an experience with me secret or they want to share it with the world.
Then it's mine. "I didn't think I'd ever fall for someone who knew more about sex than I do." Mom laughs as she reads the card. "I suppose that could be either of you." She looks to me and Ivy. "The professional."