Induction

I thought he was going to give me a kiss and hug goodbye, but he stopped five feet away, then turned around and mooned me. I covered the rest of the distance, laughing the whole way.

“Thank God you’ve got such a sense of humor, because you’ve been cursed with a flat ass.” He caught me up in a tight hug and unleashed a barrage of kisses on my neck before I ran for the garage and hopped into the car, defying speed limits in an attempt to make it to the salon on time.

Chapter 02 Happy Wife, Happy Life

“Shellac? What the fuck is shellac?”

“Jeez, you have a language problem. Has anyone ever told you that? You should put a swear jar in your house. I bet you’d be able to fund your kids’ entire college career.” Kat held her hand up like she was Vanna White and wiggled her newly manicured nails in my face.

Frankly, I didn’t see a difference between shellac and regular nail polish, but I told the Vietnamese manicurist sitting across from me to go for it.

“Speaking of kids. When are you and Jake going to start trying? You’re not getting any younger, you know,” Kat asked.

I groaned. “Not you, too! Have you been talking to my mother-in-law? I swear to God, if I get asked that question one more time my head is going to explode. I’d love to start popping out the puppies, but my uterus apparently doesn’t share the sentiment.”

When Jake and I met in our twenties, we had agreed that we wanted at least two kids, great careers, and a house with a white picket fence. Now married, and over a decade later, I fell into the ‘high risk’ category because I was over thirty-five—thirty-seven to be exact. My picket fence turned into a privacy fence so we could have late-night skinny dips in the pool without prying eyes, and my career would get some forward momentum after I finished nursing school.

“Anyway, I have to go pick up the girls from school before they’re left standing alone like latch-key kids. Good thing we didn’t carpool. I didn’t realize how late it was. Oh, have I mentioned how glad I was to not be on your unit last night?” She laughed at me. Kat was a wife and mother, the kind that baked cupcakes and cookies with her kids every weekend. Kat and I often drove together to class. We lived only a few minutes from each other, which made it convenient to have frequent study sessions lounging in my pool. Was it still considered studying if our books were in the house and we finished off a bottle of wine?

“Yeah, it was pretty bad. At least I get to spend tomorrow night down in the ER. If I have to choose a body fluid to deal with, I’ll take blood over shit any day. Let’s try to meet in the cafeteria at some point for dinner. Synchronize your watch.”

* * *

Jake was walking up the driveway when I got home. “Ah, my queen, I’ve been waiting for you to grace me with your presence.”

“To what do I owe the pleasure, my king?” He wrapped me in a bear hug as I got within reach and planted a big ol’ wet one on me.

“We have a date.” He motioned to the garage. The door stood open and two shiny new bicycles stood in the middle. A cooler was strapped to the back of the bigger one, a big red bow on the smaller. “Go get changed. I’m taking my baby to the beach… in style.”

I ran in the house and threw my bathing suit on under a pair of shorts and a clean t-shirt. I hadn’t ridden a bike since I was in high school. I grew up in Northboro, Massachusetts. One of those small towns where everyone knows everyone else and instead of busting you for delinquent behavior, the cops drove you home for your parents to deal with. At least that’s how it was for me. My dad was the dog trainer for the police department. He wasn’t a cop himself, but they treated him like one of the boys.

Even though it was Small Town, USA, my parents were always overly strict. I attributed it to the fact that both of them had been raised in the city. My dad was from Allston, one of those places where you didn’t take walks after the sun went down, unless you wanted to lose something valuable.

They wouldn’t let me drive in any of my friend’s cars until I got my own license. Talk about a social life killer. When I was eleven they bought me a bright canary yellow ten-speed bike. I was mortified when I saw it. For crying out loud, I was a preteen girl, which meant appearances were everything. The bike was so bright that I swear it glowed in the dark. I just could not bring myself to advertise that thing around town for fear of the reputation ramifications. Luckily, my parents were so strict that they wouldn’t let me ride it off our dead end street. Crisis averted. Mind you, their caution was not without merit. I was a major klutz. A strong gust of wind could cause me to trip and fall.