The Other F-Word (8 page)

“I’ll start,” Stevie said, scooping the homemade apple sauce into bowls.

“Stevie, we made that for Bobby.”

“Make some more, Mom. I’d rather have this than the vegan carrot cake. I love this stuff,” Adam said, passing out bowls to everyone.

I took the small plastic spoon and fed Bobby, who’d taken up residence on my lap. He was just starting on solids. Stevie had decided to make all his food, so we’d spent the morning blending up healthy concoctions for him.

“Besides, the kid already gets dibs on all my other favourites.”

A knowing look passed between Stevie and him. She returned his playful smile with a disapproving frown.

“I can’t believe you’re jealous I’m breastfeeding our son,” Stevie said.

“Not jealous, I just think he should learn how to share…the sooner the better.”

“Gross,” Marley blurted. “Do you really have to talk about this now?”

“What’s your dish?” I asked Stevie before they got any more graphic.

“Dish…we’re doing a swear jar. We don’t want Bobby to have a potty mouth.”

“Is that why you brought over that plastic jar?” I gestured to the coffee table. It was actually more of a small barrel—it seemed too ambitious for a swear jar.

“I have one too. What’s the deal, kids?” Kate asked.

“We brought one for all your houses, including you, Dillon. It takes a village as the saying goes,” Stevie explained.

“I don’t swear,” I said.
At least not out loud.

“Yeah, but this way if we’re over, we can use it. Everyone’s accountable,” Stevie replied.

“The kid’s censoring us,” Adam quipped, making a silly face at Bobby, who gurgled in response.

“I’m on board. This one can get pretty dirty,” Rick said, pointing to Marley.

“Me?” she said with mock innocence.

“You sound like a sailor on shore leave, baby,” he said, pulling her close to him.

“You’re right. I promise to never talk dirty to you again,” she said.

I stifled a giggle, watching Rick’s smile disappear.

“You can still talk dirty, I just meant—”

“Nice way to screw yourself, Magic Man. That ship has sailed, bro,” Adam said, smacking Rick on the back.

Stevie cleared her throat. “We’re going to use the money in these jars to start saving for Bobby’s college, so if you guys do get the notion to…talk dirty, just make a sizeable deposit first.”

“That’s a good idea,” Kate said.

I nodded in agreement.

Adam slapped Rick on the back. “Ever had to pay for a girl to talk dirty to you, Rick?”

Rick shook his head. “I’m sure you’ll tell me how it works.”

We all chuckled, except Adam, who scowled.

“I’d give you some butter for that burn, but there isn’t any at this house,” Dillon said.

Rick placed the bottle of Olive Oil in front of Adam. “Cheer up, I have a feeling your son’s going to be able to go to any college he wants.”

“That’s what we’re banking on. Thank you in advance, Marley,” Adam said, tipping his head to her.

“Stevie, I think we should talk about the other…dish now,” Marley said. They all exchanged nervous glances before turning to me.

“Why are you ducks all looking at me like that? Start quacking.”

“We’ve discussed it and we think you should start dating again,” Stevie explained. “Billie agrees too. I’m acting as her proxy.”

“That’s nice of you, but my social life is not a group decision that you all get to vote on.”

“Mom, it’s been so long, and it’s time for you to get out there again,” Marley said.

“I don’t need a man to make me happy. I have all of you and I don’t need anything else.”

“We can’t do everything for you,” Dillon muttered, starting a new tower of sugar cubes.

“Funny. Thanks for your concern, but I’m doing great.”

Adam cleared his throat, acting like the group moderator. “Emmie, this is awkward for me because my mom’s here and my wife. And you’re my mother-in-law.”

“What are you trying to say, Adam? Just spit it out.”

“I’ll let Rick say it.”

“What? You don’t think it’s awkward for me? I’m married to her daughter too, asshole.”

“I believe someone needs to make a swear jar deposit,” Stevie said.

Rick sighed. “Sorry, you’re right.” He got up and stuck a five in the jar.

“Look at that, we’re making money already, buddy,” Adam said, smiling at Bobby. “This scam…I mean idea was pretty smart, babe.”

Stevie gave Adam a cutting look. “That’s too much, Rick.”

“It’s for a good cause,” he said, returning to his seat.

“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” I interrupted.

“Dillon, why don’t you tell Emmie what Adam was trying to say?” Rick suggested.

Dillon ran his hands threw his perfect curls. They all sprang right back where they belonged. “Thanks, man.”

“What is it?” I demanded, exasperated.

“Adam thinks you’re hot. He always has. Everyone does. Rick too. You’re the hot mama in the neighbourhood.”

“Wow, I didn’t mean for you to say all that, McKay.” Adam smacked Dillon in the back of the head.

Dillon rubbed his head. “Next time have the balls to say it yourself then.”

“Swear jar,” Stevie said, gesturing to the coffee table.

“Balls isn’t a swear word.”

“I think in that context they could be,” Adam replied.

Dillon opened his mouth to argue, but instead stood up and walked over to the barrel, digging into his pocket for the money clip that held the crispest, greenest bills I’d ever seen.

“Wow, Dillon, do you iron your money?”

“No, he launders it,” Adam said.

Dumb jokes yielded big laughs in this house.

“Look,” Dillon said, drawing our attention back to him. “I’m a gay man and I’m telling you that you are hot stuff and you know when a gay man says a woman is pretty, it’s the truth because we have no ulterior motives. You can take that shit to the bank.”

Adam cleared his throat, pointing to the wealth-taking receptacle. “Or in your case, the swear jar.”

Dillon muttered something under his breath. It sounded like a fast-paced repetition of several four letter words.

“Ah…okay, why are you telling me this?” I was embarrassed and annoyed at the same time.

“I think the boys, in their own misguided way, are trying to give you confidence. Unfortunately, it’s coming off creepy,” Kate said.

“Very creepy,” Stevie agreed, glaring at Adam. Marley shot Rick a similar expression. It was just a little too cute not to laugh, since neither of the boys had actually said anything.

“Thanks for that. I’ll take it under advisement. Now, do you guys want to eat my real dessert? The carrot cake?”

“There’s something else,” Marley said.

“We sort of need you to get on board with the idea now, not take it under advisement,” Stevie said.

“Why?”

“Because I set you up with my boss and he’s coming over to pick you up at eight.” Adam spoke so fast, I had to replay the words in my head over Neil’s strumming guitar.

Kate took Bobby from me. She knew me well—this was not the moment to be holding a baby. “Well, I need to get going. I’m gonna take Bobby over to my place. Adam Senior should be back from golf and he’ll want to see this little fella. See ya, Emmie.”

“Thank you, Kate.”

“Don’t yell at my boy too hard. He’s got a good heart,” she said on her way out.

I stood up, placing my palms on the table, staring at all of them. Some of them hid their faces, others smiled innocently, but I was fuming. Before I let loose on my tirade though, I had to take care of something. I marched over to my purse. I rifled through it until I found a five dollar bill, throwing it into the swear barrel. Then I thought about it and added another ten.

“Mom?” Marley said.

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” I demanded, hands on my hips.

“What do you mean? We were just looking out for you,” Adam said.

“Looking out for me? Adam, what the fuck were you thinking?”

“And you said you never swear.” Dillon smirked.

“Enough!” I said, cutting the air with my arm.

Stevie sighed. “Why are you so upset about this? It’s just a date.”

I took a deep breath. “Because you’ve taken all my choices away. I haven’t dated in forever, and I certainly don’t want to start with a blind date. On top of that, this man is your boss, Adam, so I really can’t be myself, can I?”

Adam and Stevie exchanged glances. “I didn’t think about that.”

“No, you sure didn’t. And now you tell me he’s coming over tonight?”

“That’s the thing, Mom. The special surprise,” Marley said. “Stevie, Dillon and I are going to give you a makeover.”

“I’m in charge, but these two are helping,” Stevie said. “If Marley were in charge, you’d be wearing combat boots. If Dillon were in charge, you’d look like Marilyn Monroe…if she were in
Rocky Horror
.”

“A makeover?” I laughed. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

“For the record, Adam and I both said you didn’t need one,” Rick offered.

“You’re not helping,” Marley said.

“This is fucking brilliant,” I said, holding up my hands in defeat.

“Look, I didn’t mean to spring this on you. Rod and I were having a drink after work. He was talking about how lonely he was, and I felt so bad for him. I thought about the other lonely person I know. You. And then I just sort of suggested it and he got really excited,” Adam explained.

“That’s just great. So you all think I’m lonely?”

They all shook their heads quickly, but the look was there. The one that said that was exactly what they thought.

“Who the hell are you guys to make that kind of judgement on me?”

“Your family, who cares about you and loves you,” Marley replied.

What could I say to that? Their intentions were rooted in goodness, from a place of concern. I took a deep breath, willing my frustration to fizzle. “I guess I just have one more thing to say.”

“What’s that?” Dillon asked.

“Let the makeover commence.”

* * * *

I don’t know why I’d overacted so much. Perhaps it was because I didn’t want to start dating again. Perhaps I was just nervous, especially at the prospect of going out with Adam’s boss—a man who held Adam’s career in his hands.

Regardless, a few hours later, I was feeling much better. My girls, Dillon and I had been manicured, pedicured, massaged and facialed, and we were all feeling pretty damn…pretty. Of course, it didn’t hurt that they served wine at the spa.

“Thank you, guys. I’m really sorry,” I said to all of them.

“Um…hold off on that thought,” Dillon said, as a portly blonde woman came towards us.

“Who is that?”

“Emmie, meet Helga, you’re aesthetician.”

Helga took me to a back room, which was painted a soothing pink and adorned with soft candles. A large vase brimmed with fresh peace lilies and classical music filtered through the quiet space, creating a calming effect. It only took a few seconds to figure out it was all an illusion. I deduced Helga must hate women, because she didn’t explain what was going on. She just grunted orders and handed me a towel. She waxed my legs, which wasn’t so bad, but then she started waxing other areas, which hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. If there’d been a swear jar in the room, I would have been be penniless.

“You could have warned me,” I snapped when I came back out, trying not to wince with every step.

“Why do you think we gave you so much wine?” Stevie said.

“He’s not going to see that part of me, you know,” I whispered to her.

“I know. It would be pointless anyway.”

I gave her a perplexed look.

“You have to wait twenty-four hours. Just because his name is Rod doesn’t mean he’ll be using his tonight.”

“Stevie!”

“Sorry.”

“Why did you bother with this then?”

“You remember that time you made Marley and I shave our heads?”

“Because you stuck gum in each other’s hair and I couldn’t get it out. I think it taught you a valuable lesson.”

“This is a lesson for you too, Mom,” Marley said.

“What lesson?”

“Payback’s a bitch,” they said in unison.

* * * *

My makeover continued when we got back to the house. Dillon did my hair, primping it to a high shine. “There, nice and straight,” he said, admiring his work. Then he dropped his voice, leaning his head on my shoulder. “Unlike me.”

I laughed, patting his cheek. “I love it. Thank you.”

“I’m getting the hell out of dodge before the bicker sisters get on my nerves,” he said, pointing to Marley and Stevie who were fighting about the outfit I should wear. Marley had suggested modern but casual while Stevie thought I should dress to impress.

“I can dress myself. What restaurant is he taking me to?”

They both looked at each other, which confirmed they had no clue.

“What’s he like?”

Again they both gave each other vacant stares as if hoping one of them would magically come up with an answer.

“What does he look like?”

Same look.

“That’s great,” I said, throwing my arms in the air.

“He’s not on any social media,” Marley explained.

“I’ve never met him, and I asked Adam, but he says he doesn’t check out other dudes or something like that,” Stevie said.

I shook my head, kicking them out of the room. I decided to wear Stevie’s choice of a little black dress. It was a classic, but my version was slightly vintage, with the sweetheart waist and sheer, lacy neckline, which showed the slightest cleavage. I paired it with Marley’s choice of purple, knee-length boots. The perfect accessories were the multi-coloured scarf I wore in my hair and my gold hoop earrings. It was a little bit Jackie Kennedy and a little bit Janis Joplin at the same time. It was me.

“Can we see?” Marley asked, peering through the door.

“Sure.”

They both whistled, walking around me like I was a sculpture they were surveying for cracks.

“You need to relax, Mom,” Marley said.

I reacted with something between a grimace and a smile—an expression that fooled neither of them.

Stevie snapped her fingers. “What is the one thing that can get Mom to smile?”