Single Player: Humor, Love, Breast Cancer and a Gaming Girl... (23 page)

Someone needs to witness this miracle happening in my life and that someone is most definitely Ashton. Maybe I should text him a picture of me in the mall’s glass elevator!  You don’t get much more brazen than a glass elevator in THE MALL! He’ll die. I’m dying. The bear has become the bee. 

Deciding it’s high time for me to become the person Ashton needs and knows me to be, I march to the elevator, climb inside, press the number one and throw myself against the rear wall while thanking the elevator-gods that I’m alone. I pull the camera far enough back to catch the surroundings behind me and shoot. The caption reads: 

Missed this so much. 

But…miss you more. 

Forgive me. 

C 

Now all I can do is hope to hear back from him. In order to keep my mind occupied and off of fretting over his reply I casually roam through the endless supply of stores around me. I’ve stopped twice to use the restroom and bought three pairs of earrings from Claire’s (buy two get one free) and still, no reply. Taking into account the time change, he should be up by now, its noon by him and he’s always up by noon. What in Hades hot Hell is his problem?

No more games, it’s time to get serious. It’s time for the
Big
Distraction
, Victoria’s Secret. While heading toward paradise I notice a group of girls I went to high school with coming my way. In the hopes of avoiding the typical, awkward, ‘how’ve you been’s’ or even worse, ‘how’s Ashton?’ conversations I  turn my head to the side and blast out an extremely realistic and juicy fake cough.

Gratefully, my crazy coughing goes unnoticed by the self-absorbed girls and I’m able to continue on to my favorite shop in peace. It’s in the midst of my quiet strolling that I realize this is the first time in the entirety of Ash and I’s friendship that I have absolutely no flipping clue where the overconfident, narcissus is (he really is great) and I’m starting to long for him more than I’m comfortable with (hence the mean inner dialogue). 

Finally, my long lost lingerie store is in my sights (that’s not fair to Victoria, she was never lost, I was). I stare in appreciation at the many dolled up mannequins in the window and am enamored at how each of them seems to glow under the exact perfect amount of ambient light shining from above them. Their smooth, plastic breasts sit perfectly in their lacey cups while their perfectly-shaped bottoms are flawlessly cupped inside the matching counterparts, their pretty… pretty panties. I swear I can hear angels singing as I walk through these pink-highlighted walls, and never have I felt more alive, more at home than I do right here, right now, in this moment.  When I’m old and grey and dead, this is what I hope to find in heaven.

It’s thirty minutes later and I’ve had a change of heart.  After searching every drawer and matching tiny-hanger I have yet to find a single matching set in the elusive, ever-popular 34B. I’ve been told finding this set will more than likely end in a bust (I apologize, I couldn’t stop myself.). 

Without a single matching set in hand, I finally give up the hunt and head to the changing room to try on my sorry lot of mismatches. Two pieces in, I realize something: the pieces Liddy and I design are not only a better fit, but they also offer a much more unique and tailored design perspective. Ours are better than The Secret’s! This is a life-changing, heart pounding, realization, bordering on blasphemous, and one I must share immediately with my business partner.

So as not to waste the trip I purchase a really cute nighty, even though I’m inclined to believe I can design and make one that’s a much better fit. My eyes have been opened for the first time in years and if you consider I was in a self-inflicted cage not even two months ago, that’s pretty damn amazing. Quickly making my way out to the car, I type out a text to Liddy.

Are you home? 

Love if I could stop by. 

C 

Instantly my phone chimes back with her reply:

Yeppers,

catch ya soon.  

L

The bus drops me at the end of their street and I’m at their cottage-style house in what feels like minutes. Liddy already has the door opened before I’ve even stepped a single foot onto the walkway and I’m guessing my impromptu trip has made her a little nervous.

“What’s up? Is everything okay?” It’s sweet how she worries over me. She’s only a few years older and yet she still mothers me like Mary Poppins. Don’t say a word, but secretly (not so secretly) I love it. 

“I just left the mall,” I begin and her eyes do a cute little shocked puppy thing. “I felt like it was time to reacquaint myself with my old friend Victoria. She was just as I remembered her and for a moment I was in heaven. But, do you know what I found Liddy?” She’s silent at first, waiting in anticipation but then asks, with confusion laced through her voice, “Bras and panties?” I Love her.

“Cute. Yes. But, that’s not what I came all the way over here to tell you. What I was going to tell you was that I found… drum roll please,” she obliges by banging on the table, “Courage!” She stops and looks at me like I’ve grown a third boob. “We can do this! We can make money selling our stuff, Liddy! People, myself included, die for the mall stuff and that’s fine. But, our stuff? Our stuff is amazing. Before, I was all, ‘This is fun. Maybe we’ll sell some stuff’. But now, now I’m full on ready to make something big happen. If you’re ready then so am I. I’m full-on!”

The smile that spreads over the lower half of her perfect, porcelain face is blinding. “Well now, that’s what a business partner wants to hear. Oddly enough, I just called that friend of yours, the accountant guy, and we’re meeting with him Wednesday morning, nine sharp - his words not mine, and he sounded totally serious about the sharp part.”

“Awesome!” Add cheesy hand clapping. “I can’t wait for you to meet him. Keep in mind he’s not only a genius with numbers but that he also has an ability to shoot straight from the hip. He’s not going to blow smoke up our asses. If we show him our numbers and he says to go for it, then I say we go for it hard. Balls to the wall. No! Better… Boobies to bras! Butts to panties!”

Liddy hops about as I continue the creeper clap, “You’re a dork!” she screams, “But, I love you! Here’s wishing that our numbers are the right ones!”   

Its five minutes later and we’ve moved the celebration to the kitchen where Liddy’s just grabbed a bottle of bubbly from the side-by-side, steel fridge, ready to make a pre-dinner toast. Connor gets home in the middle of our celebration, smiles at the two of us and points down the hall to let Liddy know in boyfriend code that he’s off for a quick shower. He’s got his cell pressed hard to his ear trying to hear his conversation over our celebratory whoops but still takes the extra moment required to plant a quick hello kiss on his ladies cheek as he passes by.  Before he rounds the corner into the bathroom I hear him say, “Ash, Don’t worry about it. I checked on the status of things last week and it’s all good, everything’s right on time.” Before I have a chance to yank the phone from his ear and see if that’s the “Ash” I think it is, he’s gone inside and locked the door. 

“Do you know what that was about?” Liddy gives me a shoulder shrug in answer as I go on. “It’s just, today I finally got up the nerve to text Ashton and apologize for all my bad behavior and he still hasn’t returned my message. I’m losing it, Lidd. LOSING IT!” I bop my head on the table a couple of times for show and when I look back up Liddy’s staring down at me wearing a knowing grin.

“You love him.” She declares and I realize with a fear ball the size of Saturn in my heart that I’m unable to refute her. I’m completely unable to deny the feelings I have for the Incredible Douche, and to top it all off it appears that now I’ll never get the chance to tell him about all the weird, twisted-up feelings I’ve discovered I have for him.  Maybe he wouldn’t approve of me calling my feelings for him twisted or weird. I’ll just keep that bit to myself.

“Unfortunately that appears to be the diagnosis. I’m lovesick and it hurts.” I’m sinking into some pretty unfortunate thoughts before Liddy chimes in with her next question. “I’m just curious, but have you and Ashton ever knocked boots?” What the hell, Liddy? 

“You are not asking me that.”

“Oh, I’m totally asking you that. Give up the goods and I won’t tell you how awesome your broth...” I cut her off with a firm hand over her mouth as soon as I realize where she’s going with that statement.

“Stop! No way am I letting you finish that sentence.  The answer to your question is no. No boots have ever knocked. Not even a quick tap.” She’s staring at me with her beady (big and gorgeous) eyes, contemplating the truth of my reply. 

“I call bullshit.” 

“You can call bullshit all day long, it’s still the truth.” There’s more to the story and she knows it, the little minx.

She continues on with her interrogation unfazed by my denial, “You’ve at least kissed him? I mean how can two people spend all their lives together the way the two of you have and not at least wondered about the kissing you could be doing?” My cheeks turn a crazy shade of maroon and she shoots her eyes up to heaven in a quick prayer of thanks. 

“HA! I KNEW IT! YOU’VE KISSED!” Maybe that knowledge will be enough and this line of questioning will end. I give her my very best eye roll and try to change the subject.

“Back to the lingerie business. Now I was thinking…”

“Nope. How far have you gone?” RE-LENT-LESS little fairy.

“That’s it, only that far. I swear. Just the kissing.”  She’s looks at me longer than necessary and I’d swear she’s doing math because her fingers look to be calculating something, maybe we’re back to the business after all.

“CeeCee. Have you ever done things with anyone besides Ashton?” Silence. More silence. And more silence… There’s her answer. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”

“Um, may I point out that you’re hearing nothing?”  She gives me the one eyebrow raise and I’m instantly envious of her talented eyebrow muscles.

“Nothing, in this case, is EVERYTHING!” she says groaning. “You’re carrying your V-card and you want Ashton to check you out at the library. Only he’s too busy cataloguing with other card carriers so your card’s been left unpunched. Am I right?” My vagina is a library metaphor? No. No. No. Unacceptable.

“My ‘card’ is off the list of approved dinnertime conversation topics.” Connor comes in the room right then and I’m saved. 

“What approved topics?” He asks, blissfully unaware of the conversation he’s just walked into.

“I was just learning that your sister here is still a virgin.” Yep, she went there and Connor is just as shocked as I am.

“What the hell, Liddy? Do you really think I want to know this stuff about my baby sister?” Then he does the unthinkable. He looks at me and winks his approval before grabbing a glass to fill with the previously uncorked champagne as if discussing my sex life or lack thereof is a normal conversation topic.

“I’m leaving. You two perv’s enjoy your dinner.” I get up in a huff and he drags me in for a big, humiliating, bear hug.

“Oh, stop. I’m Sorry. I’m just really proud of you. As obsessed as you’ve always been over lingerie and naked ladies I thought for sure that passport got stamped a while ago.”

“Connor!”

“I’m just surprised and impressed. Sorry. Don’t go. We want you to stay.” Even though I’m thoroughly disgusted with this explicit conversation, I’m also pleased. I love that my brother is proud of me and without a doubt my father would be, too. But seriously, referring to my girl bits as a passport? Nuh-uh.

“Fine. I’ll stay. But, can we please drop this conversation. I really want to talk business.
Only
business.”

“Yes. Business, fine. Now, I was thinking…”

We spend the rest of the night drinking champagne and shoring up our business plan, getting it ready for our meeting with Jack exactly one day from now. In all my excitement I lost track of time and it’s gotten late. Master is going to kill me! “Connor, can you do me a solid and take me home?”

“Sure thing.” We stand to leave and I give Liddy the cool European kiss I’ve learned from the goddess and head to the door. Before we shut the door behind us Connor turns to his lady and casually lets her know that we’ll be right back and to “Be ready.” Oh… my… Great Goodness.   Put a lid on it already.

***

“Hey big guy. Sorry I’m so late. How about we go out front for a wee, hmm?” He looks up at me like, “What?” and I shout out “You, not me, silly. I’m all wee’d out.” No time to waste on idle chit chat, Master darts past me and heads right to his favorite spot under the new tree. I set my keys on the entrance table and watch from the doorway as he goes and goes and goes… I wait and wait and wait. I’m on my way to sit on the new bench when the phone chimes in my hand. The nasty message reads:

Don’t text me again. 

I’ve moved on. 

So should you.  A

What?

Just?

Happened?

Ashton did not just ten word text me goodbye! Who does he think he is, telling me what I should do? Clearly all this rock star nonsense has finally caused the stupid in his head to explode out all over his life but no way am I letting him take my newfound happiness down with him.  Never would I have imagined that this is how easy our lifelong friendship could be destroyed; nothing to blame but a couple of stupid, meaningless selfies. Maybe our relationship wasn’t what I thought. Maybe all along he was just waiting for me to… to what? Have sex with him?  That’s ridiculous, he’s always gotten plenty, I know, I’ve heard it.