I try to push thoughts like that out of my head. Every time they come, I tell myself how beautiful my fiancée is, how much I love Jenna. I tell myself that this is just curiosity or infatuation with Lauren and it’s shallow, artificial and could ruin everything if it gets misinterpreted—if I misinterpret it.
I remind myself of the line that’s between Lauren and me. The one that’s there for a reason. That still didn’t stop me from texting her even when I knew Caylen was asleep. Or calling her to hear her voice. I don’t know why or where this is coming from but I know it needs to stop.
I’m supposed to see Jenna tomorrow. It will be the first time since all of this started. She stayed in Lansing for school. She’s coming up for the weekend. She sent me a text and wants to meet once she gets back tomorrow. I hope seeing her will clear my head of all this confusion and get me back on track.
Lauren hasn’t called me back. I know there are plenty of reasons as to why. Maybe she fell asleep, or Caylen woke up, or she just doesn’t want to talk to me. I should call her again just to make sure she’s okay. I stand up and let out a deep breath. I shouldn’t call her. We have nothing to talk about if it’s not about Caylen.
But really, we have everything to talk about since we really don’t know anything about each other. As parents, we should get to know each other. We should be friends. Being my daughter’s mom’s friend is okay, perfectly acceptable.
Yup, I’m calling.
I hit her name on my phone and hear the ringing tone again. It rings about four times and I’m about to hang up when it stops.
“Hey.” Her voice is little above a whisper and flat. She sounds tired or sad, not what I was expecting from the tone of our last text.
“Is everything okay?” I ask concerned.
“Yeah, everything’s fine” she says, letting out a small sigh.
“Chinese food not turning your stomach, is it?” I decide to joke and she lets out a laugh. It makes me smile.
“I hate to tell you, but my stomach is the most satisfied part on me,” she kids back. She’s funny.
“Caylen tire you out?” I ask, feeling a little more relaxed since she seems to be in better spirits. I sit on my bed and rest my elbow on my knee.
“Not really. My aunt Raven’s here today. I was able to get a little R&R,” she says, and I can tell from her tone that something’s bothering her.
“Then what’s wrong?” I ask her, and she’s quiet.
“What makes you think something’s wrong?” she asks after a second. I shrug, even though she can’t see it.
“It doesn’t take a genius.” I laugh to lessen the tension.
“I got into a fight with my best friend,” she says hesitantly.
“A bad one?” I guess.
“Yeah. I said something I really shouldn’t have and I feel like a huge puppy kicker.” She sighs and I laugh.
“Are you laughing at me?” she asks, surprised.
“Puppy kicker?” I chuckle, and she pauses and then giggles.
It’s cute.
“Oh yeah. I’m sorry. Sometimes I drift into the code words I trained myself to use around Caylen. Before her, I had quite the potty mouth,” she explains, her voice is light and she sounds almost like herself again.
“What’s ‘puppy kicker’ a code word for?” I ask, lying back on my bed.
“Bitch.” She chuckles.
“Really? What other codes do you have?” I say, finding myself way too interested in this.
“Uhm. Well let’s see, poo, of course, for shit. Bottom mouth for a-hole. Diaper for douche. Frick for fuck.” She pauses at the last part and a moment of awkwardness slips in.
“Well puppy kicker is definitely the most creative,” I tease her, and I can tell she’s smiling.
“You think you could do better?” she says in a challenging tone.
“Hmm lets see. Ground licker for kiss ass, tree dung for shit, the classic darn-it for damn and for fuck, frechetta,” I rattle off.
“Did you come up with these off the top of your head or do you secretly have a list or something?” she says, amidst laughter.
“Well let’s just say since I work with high schoolers and profanities are frowned upon, this isn’t the first time I’ve discussed code words.”
“Did you come up with freschetta because you love the pizza?”
“Of course,” I say.
It should be obvious.
“You are such a foodie!”
“Is that code word for fattie?” I ask sarcastically.
“No comment,” she says, covering up a laugh.
We talk about our favorite foods. Hers is any type of pasta. I tell her I’m easy. Steak and potatoes. She tells me about her best friends, Angela and Hillary. How she always wanted to go to school in the city. She loves cats but is allergic to them. If she had to live anywhere else in the world, it’d be Paris even though she’s never been. I tell her when I was younger I wanted to be a pilot. She finds it ironic that I’m afraid of heights. I joke that it’s more tragic than ironic. I tell her how even though Aidan can be a ground licker sometimes, he’s really a loyal friend. We talk about so much but avoid the obvious, like her life with Cal, how I met Jenna, how things are going to go from here, but it’s nice and it’s easy, and I don’t even realize two hours have passed until Aidan texts me and asks why I’m not downstairs.
I was supposed to meet him for a run. I didn’t realize how late it had gotten and she hadn’t either. I don’t want to get off the phone. She doesn’t seem like she wants to either but it’s probably a good idea since it’s almost ten. I say goodnight and she tells me not to eat too much before bed. I tell her I don’t eat that much and we finally hang up. I feel good about our talk. No lines were crossed and I’m much closer to being her friend than before the conversation. I throw on my shorts and gym shoes, and run down to meet Aidan. He’s like an old guy when it comes to being on time.
“Dude what the fuck? You were supposed to meet me down here twenty minutes ago,” he says, throwing his arms in the air.
“Lost track of time,” I say simply.
“And what’s with the goofy smile on your face?” he asks, nudging me. I shove him back.
“Thinking about how I’m about to make wannabe Captain America eat my dust,” I say before taking off ahead of him.
“So you cheat now?” he calls after me.
“Who said we were racing?” I call back to him before quickening my pace and increasing our distance.
“All that training and you’re still slower than your grandma!” I taunt him. When we reach our halfway mark, we both stop to catch our breath.
“So you seem to be in a ‘just got some’ mood today,” he jokes. I frown at him.
“You make up with Jenna?” he guesses.
“No, she’s coming home tomorrow though,” I inform him.
“You’ve been spankin’ the monkey or something, then?” He laughs. I wave him off.
“You were late coming down for our run. You’re never late and you had that just-fucked smile on your face.” He chuckles.
“You’re an idiot,” I say, sitting on the ground.