CHERRY BLOSSOMS // Revisited // Bachelorette // 2.8

Thursday, June 22nd

“Wow, hi, Nia!” Miss Jessop said, “I haven’t seen you in so long.”

“I’m back working now,” she said.

“I know, Geoff told me. Must be exciting.”

Nia stood and talked with Odie’s teacher, holding Odie’s hand while they caught up. It was the last week of school and she asked Miss Jessop about her summer plans and they talked about how work was going for Nia. Rocco was away this morning doing something personal with his family and he didn’t need Nia in until 10 A.M., so she walked her little girl to school since she missed that morning time with Odie. Now she stood and talked with Miss Jessop like she used to just a month ago and she felt like such a different person than she was then.

It was a bright spring day, and they stood on the sidewalk out front of Alastair Lessing under the canopy of an old and low oak tree. Nia dressed for work, standing tall in her heels over the young teacher. She had a slim skirt, black, with black leggings and a black cashmere sweater and a thin patent leather belt with a silver buckle. Dressed for work. Dressed like a professional. She’d bought a watch too. A nice one. A little alligator Gucci, even though she used her phone to tell time. A mere month ago she would have been here, just like now, but with Uggs, pajama pants, yoga pants if it was Monday, Wednesday, or Friday. Her messy hair would have been tied back and she wouldn’t have worn makeup. Now she was glossed, showered, and perfumed, and she felt like a million bucks. She talked differently too, she felt it, a confidence in her tone with Odie’s teacher. Getting a job had done wonders for her self-esteem and she didn’t even realize how meek she had become.

She glanced at the Gucci, said to Odie, “Well, we better get you in.” They walked with Miss Jessop to the school bus chaos at the front entrance and waved as. Miss Jessop went on without them and Nia kneeled to talk to her daughter.

Odie said, “You miss me, Mom?”

“Miss these mornings like this? I sure do, O.”

“Me too,” Odie said, and leaned in and gave her mother a sweet hug. “Mom, why do you have to work?”

“I don’t have to, baby. I want to. It’s a good thing.” She ran her hands up and down the back of Odie’s striped dress, felt her body filling out, getting away from her skinny kid frame and getting some flesh.

“What are we going to do in the summer?”

Nia said, “In the summer, baby? I don’t know. You’ll get to hang out with your dad like you usually do.”

“But you won’t be there?”

“No, Odie, I’ll be at work, you know that.”

“Yeah, but why? Why can’t you stay with us?”

“Most mommies and daddies work, sunshine. You should feel lucky your dad gets to work from home and you can spend time with him. Most daddies aren’t like that.” She held her head back to look her baby girl in the eye. She was black-eyed and black-haired like her mom, a future knockout for sure too. She ran her hands through her thick hair, told her, “We’ll spend time on the weekends, okay? That’ll be our time.”

“Promise?” Odie asked her, putting on a quivering-lip, trembling-eye look of heartbreak that Nia herself had perfected at that age as well.

“I promise, baby.”

“What do you want to do this weekend? Can we go to Centreville on Saturday? Remember when we—”

“No, Odie, I have the bachelorette, you know, with Auntie Angie.”

Odie nodded, pushing her sad little girl face as far as she could push it. She said, “Okay,” and turned her eyes from her mom.

“That’s just this weekend, Odie, we can go to the Island next weekend, okay?”

“Can you come with Dad and me to the Book Expo?”

“Of course baby, of course, I wouldn’t miss that.”

“You promise?”

“I do, baby.”

***

Trouble at home, that’s what she thought was bothering him. Rocco was quiet this morning, said little, just bumped around in the office before they left, slamming things around, closing drawers hard. It felt unrelated to work. It wasn’t the guys; it wasn’t the jobs, and it didn’t feel like he was mad at her. He seemed like he was trying to stay out of her way, not engage her. He spent a little time getting paperwork together, and she stayed out of his office and worked on the laptop. When he stormed in, he still handed the file folders to her gently. Then stormed off again. She wondered what it would be like to be married to a big intimidating hothead like him. His wife, Maria, must have her work cut out for her.

Now they were stuck in traffic, crawling along the DVP, heading north, trying to make their way out to Markham. She’d entered all the data, had updated all the files and prepared easy-to-read reports for him, and she was concerned because she looked like she had nothing to do. So she just sat there in the uncomfortable quiet, flicking through screens and going over all that she’d already done today, knowing it was fine but afraid to close the laptop.

“Ay,” Rocco said, breaking the silence and making her jump. “Your four weeks is up.”

“My four weeks?” she said.

“Probation.”

“Probation?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Oh,” she said, getting a knot in her stomach now and wondering why she hadn’t known that and where he was going with this.

“Listen,” he said, moving his huge hands on the steering wheel while he talked and keeping his eyes on the road, not looking over her way. “You’ve been good.”

“Thanks.” Sensing a ‘but’ and dying a little inside, hoping she would keep it together.

He said, “Yeah, I honestly couldn’t ask for better.”

“Really?” she bubbled, hearing the elation in her own voice.

“Yeah, what? You know you’re good. Haven’t yelled at you once.”

“No,” she said, “you haven’t. Haven’t needed to.”

“That’s right,” he said. “You’re serious. You don’t fuck around. That’s the shit I need. Really need right now.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. Knew how much stress he was under.

“You like it here?”

“Of course, Rocco, I love it here.”

“You like sitting with me all day?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“You pass probation.”

“I do?” Feeling like she accomplished something, had made it, like it was a victory, even though, two minutes ago, she knew nothing about a probation.

“Yeah, you do. I want you on a full-time salary, okay?”

“What am I on now?”

“Probation pay. I don’t know. Just give yourself a raise, okay?”

“Give myself one?”

“Yeah.”

That was stressful. How much? Was this a test too? Like how well she knew the books she should figure out her value. He was already paying her more than he should. Now more?

“Okay,” she said.

“And next month—Pool Expo. In Montreal. I need you to come with me.”

“Sure,” she said.

“It’s a weekend. All weekend. You’ll stay with me in a hotel.”

“Okay,” she said, her stomach fluttering at the thought. Was he saying something here—he was, right?

“Your own room, okay?”

“Uh-huh,” she nodded, felt him watching her profile.

“If you want,” he added.

“Okay. When?”

“July fifteen-sixteen. We fly out the Friday.”

“Yeah, that’s great,” she said, opening her calendar.

Odie was about to get a look at how the real world works, not all that fantasy and coddling she got from Geoff. That was the weekend of the Book Expo.

***

Saturday, June 24th

The whine of Nia’s hair dryer set his nerves on edge. He stood in their bedroom and watched her through the sliver of open door. She was in the bathroom; it was ten in the morning, and she was preparing herself for a full and ribald day out with her friends. A day of drinking and excess with some very coarse, yet admittedly sweet girls. All to culminate at the end of the night, with greatly reduced inhibitions, with a male stripper. He’d told Nia she could do whatever she wanted. She said she didn’t want to do anything. The knowledge that he gave her permission, and she was going to be provided with an attractive and naked male, swinging his pecker in her eager face, had him about to crawl out of his skin. He was roiling inside. But he hadn’t changed his mind. He was ready for this. He fucking wanted it. He wished he could be there to watch.

There Nia stood, arms jerking in that sliver, blowing her black hair out, standing barefoot on the bathmat in front of the mirror with a white towel wrapped around that perfect slender body. He grabbed himself through his jeans while he watched. He felt himself harden in his grip. He kneaded the rough cotton and thought about what she might do. She was going to look at another man’s cock tonight.

His heart raced at the thought. Nia was going to be up close and personal with the sexual equipment of another man. That man was most assuredly going to be packing something exciting, something that might get his loving wife worked up. A little wet in her panties. He wanted her to. He wanted Nia to feel that excitement.

Would she touch it? Do girls do that? Probably not. Probably not suck it either. Not in front of their friends. Friends and relatives. But what if the stripper stayed late, hung out with them? Nia would be the star of the show. Hands down the most attractive of her already attractive friends. Nia would draw the stripper’s attention. And if she did, what would the guy do? What would Nia do?

He stepped across the bedroom, got himself in the doorway and nudged it open. Nia smiled, big and bright in the mirror, innocent and happy. Then she looked down, and she saw what he was showing her. His erection going sideways under his jeans. She laughed and shook her head at her dirty husband. She shut the dryer off.

“Geoff, I have to get ready, baby,” she laughed.

“I’m just showing you—I’m still on. For whatever goes down tonight.”

“I know, Geoff. All my friends are there though, sweetheart.”

“Whatever you want, Nia, okay?”

“I’ll touch it for you, okay? How’s that?”

“Yeah? Touch his dick?”

“I will. I swear I will. I’ll tell you all about it,” she said and she came to him and put her arms up on his shoulders.

He said, “Anything that happens, you have to tell me.”

“I know the rules, Geoff.”

“Okay.”

“A stripper isn’t as exciting as you might think. I keep telling you that.”

“I know.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing his body, his muscles and, yeah, I am looking forward to seeing what his equipment is going to look like. I’m not shy. But it just doesn’t make me want to . . . you know . . .”

“I know,” he said, then, “Squeeze it,” looking down at his bulge.

Nia snorted through her nose, laughing at him. Her hand came down, and she squeezed his cock through his jeans. “I’ll be home tomorrow. I’ll tell you how it went.”

“Don’t lie. Don’t make up some story to turn me on.”

“You don’t like that?”

“I do. But this is more serious this time. I want the truth. I really want the truth.”

“You got it, Geoff.” Her hand cupped his balls and gave them a good pressing. “Now, shouldn’t you be with O? She was talking all breakfast about drawing with you today.”

“Yeah, yeah, I nipped up to have a private talk.”

Nia ran her fingers up and down his denim shaft, said, “Feels like you came for more than a talk.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, lusty, thinking he might get lucky before she left.

From downstairs: “Daa-aad!”

“Shit,” he said, Odie at the bottom of the stairwell.

“Da-aad! I need the Copic markers—where are they?”

“Man, great timing on that girl,” he said. Then yelled to the side, “The red mechanic’s chest, Odie!”

There was a pause, and Nia smiled, waiting. Then, “The color ones, Dad!”

Geoff groaned and she patted on his hard cock, whispered, “We’ll get down to business tomorrow.”

“Yeah, okay,” he said, and he kissed her neck. Then he whispered, “You can do no wrong, Nia, okay?”

“Yes, Geoff. I know.” She kissed his lips and held them, breathed him in and he felt the gentle weight of her arms on his shoulders as she leaned into him.

Then she was away, and she was looking in the mirror again, and he’d give anything to rip that towel off and kiss every bare bit of her and spend the day in bed.

He said, “Come through the studio when you leave.”