Deliciously Obedient (28 page)

Now
he could really exhale.

Whatever
part of him
wanted
to be with her now had to acknowledge that
he
needed
to be with her, too, a subtle—but
significant—distinction. Even an overnight was too much.

How
could he ever travel again without her?

How
in the hell could he sleep one more night away?

“
You
still schtupping my granddaughter?” Madge’s gravelly voice asked
him. Sandy whacked Madge’s leg softly and a woman who must be the
famous Aunt Karen just rolled her eyes. Tall and regal, she looked
like a biology professor, with nerdy glasses and an overly competent
appearance he’d found academics cultivated as if breeding the
attitude in a petri dish.

“
I’m
Karen,” she said, reaching across a small chair filled with coats
to shake his hand.

“
Jeremy,”
he said as Lydia squeezed his arm and smiled at her aunt.

“
Mom!
That’s rude,” Karen said to Madge. She and Sandy shared an
inscrutable look, but if it had words it would say
Can you believe
her?

“
What?
It’s the truth. Just checking. Healthy sex lives are important.”

“
Even
at funerals,” Lydia muttered, catching a sharp look from Sandy.

“
Yes,
I’m still schtupping your granddaughter whenever she lets me,” he
answered cheerfully, pulling up a chair and twisting it backwards,
straddling it. “How’s your sex life, Madge?”

She
motioned to the tubes and machines as Sandy giggled. “Could be
better. I need Ed in here, and our videos.”

“
Videos?”
Lydia squeaked, and then reached over to place a gentle finger over
Madge’s lips. “Pretend I never asked that, Grandma.”

As
if on cue, Ed and his grandson appeared, followed by Meribeth. Jeremy
found himself tongue-tied again in the presence of Alex’s mother,
her outfit of choice today a simple pair of jeans and a green,
scoop-neck shirt that made her seem ten years younger than she was.
Why did he react to her like this? He couldn’t tell you what Sandy
wore on a given day, and yet he catalogued Meribeth.

Youth.
She was so young, and Alex wasn’t much younger than he was.
Something about the juxtaposition of his own elderly mother and
Alex’s youthful one. A psychologist would have a field day with
him.

In
more ways than one.

Or
three…

“
Eddie!”
Madge gasped. Taking their cue, Sandy, Karen and Lydia slipped out of
the room with Alex and Meribeth. The moms started to talk, and Alex
gave them a half-wave, a chart under his arm.

That
left Jeremy alone with Lydia.

Thank
God.

And
about time.

“
So
what do we do now?” she asked, standing on tiptoes for a kiss, the
touch less intimate and more questioning. This was the first time her
lips touched his since that kiss with Mike yesterday, and a million
thoughts blazed through his mind, all of them vanilla-scented.

As
his hand sank into her shiny waves of hair, sliding up to the back of
her neck, he adored her heat, the little sigh that came from her, how
she tilted her neck and moved with just enough effort to get more of
him to touch her. Would a woman with no interest in being with him in
the future act like this? He didn’t think so.

And
yet what he was about to tell her could shatter everything.

He
had no choice.

If
he said nothing, this could destroy him.

At
least saying something, and being true to who he was and what he
wanted, could leave him with an intact self. Ten years of backpacking
all over the world had been nothing but an escape, a way to keep the
wolves at bay.

Home
now, he had to make sure it really was his resting place, where he
could build a life.

The
way he needed.

If
you love something, let it go. If it comes back, it was yours. And if
it sleeps with your best friend, maybe it can be yours, too.

“
Earth
to Jeremy! Want to go and eat at Jeddy’s? Caleb’s there. The new
marmalade garlic aioli made Krysta have a foodgasm.”

Jeddy’s?
Under her brother’s watchful eye? No fucking way.

“
How
about someplace else? The coffee shop we walked past on the way here?
Not the one in the lobby,” he hastily added. Too many eyes.

She
made a skeptical face but shrugged. “Okay. I like to try new
things.”

He
was about to hold her to that statement.

Weaving
her fingers in his, she clasped his hand and they took off, waving to
the mothers, who looked up to wave back, walking quietly to the
elevators, riding down. The
ding
as it reached the lobby
reminded Jeremy of yesterday. He half expected to see Mike standing
there, Lydia throwing herself in his arms, Mike fucking Lydia on the
multicolored rug in front of doctors and visitors.

That
was an image.

So
was Lydia right now, swinging his hand in hers and happier than he’d
seen her in days.

“
Hey,
you two! Familiar faces!” Pete appeared, carrying a box of
something from Jeddy’s, looking like he’d just escaped from a
lumberjack camp in Maine plaid, wearing jeans and brown work boots.

“
Daddy!”
Lydia squealed, letting go Jeremy’s hand and launching herself into
her father’s arms, almost knocking him over. Jeremy couldn’t help
but smile.

Maybe,
someday, he’d have a daughter like that.

For
once, the thought didn’t make him slog down three shots to drive
away the unreality of imagining his own progeny.

“
Hi,
sweetie! Hi, Jeremy,” Pete greeted them, hugging his daughter back.
“How’s Madge?”

“
Jeremy
just had a lovely conversation with her about her sex life.”

Pete
laughed.

“
And
ours,” Jeremy joked.

Pete
stopped laughing.

Ooookay.
Some jokes cut a little too close.

“
She
looks so much better,” Jeremy added, lowering his voice, trying to
sound intense and serious. Not like some guy fucking Pete’s
daughter.

Which,
um, he was.

A
tic formed inside, a series of impulsive words that he fought to keep
under control. Sometimes his subconscious sabotaged him and he’d
blurt out the first thing that came to mind, making him the object of
admiring laughter and, occasionally, derisive judgment.

What
Jeremy’s mind wanted him to blurt out was “My friend and I want a
permanent threesome with Lydia,” the words corroding, rusting,
oxidizing and grinding into him, relentless and perseverant to the
point of pain. Biting his tongue, he drew blood, all the while
maintaining a pleasant expression on his face.

Don’t
say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

When
he found himself in the company of normal, steady, mature people, the
impulse was always strongest. Deep inside, he doubted he was anything
like these people—and his brain set out to prove it.

“
Jeremy,
you okay? You look kind of pale,” Pete said, genuinely worried. He
let an elevator go up, motioning for the people ahead of him to go
on, staying behind.

“
Fine.”
Reduced to one-word answers, Jeremy knew he didn’t have much longer
for that. The compulsion to out himself was so strong. Too strong.
Like a porno version of the Jedi mind trick.

“
You
don’t look fine.” Damn it. Reasonable, caring people were the
worst
. Just let him suffer in peace and get out of this.

“
Just
hungry,” Jeremy barked out.
To have your daughter ride me.

Pete
looked relieved, though his brow remained creased. “Go on and get
something. We don’t need any more sick people in our life!”

I’m
the sickest person you know.

They
both waved as Pete mercifully left to get on an elevator, and then
the walk through to sunlight and air was like being reborn.

Whoosh
.
His long exhale made Lydia look at him in bemusement. “Was my dad
right? You do look kind of sick.” Staggering in the sun, he walked
to a small park bench and sat down, head between his knees.

“
Jeremy?”
She began rubbing between his shoulder blades.

“
I
think that sleeping with one person is overrated.”

The
hand froze.

“
Come
again?”

“
Monogamy,
you know, is a social construct—”

“
Oh,
God, Jeremy, what the fuck are you talking about?” She looked like
she was about to have a heart attack. That, or rip his dick off and
beat him with it.

“
I’m
trying to explain how I feel about—”

“
You’re
dumping me? Right now, as we get ready to walk into my grandma’s
hospital room and my family is in crisis? And after everything we’ve
been through these past two days? After we...you know...”

“
No!
No! Not dumping!
Not
dumping you!” he protested, voice so
loud people started looking at them.

“
Dude,
that’s low,” a guy his age muttered as he walked past carrying a
balloon bouquet.

“
He’s
right!” Lydia hissed.

“
What
part of not dumping you did you not understand?”

“
The
part where you pulled the anthropological asshole argument.”

“
The
what?”

“
Oh,
please. This is what assholes do, Jeremy. They claim that monogamy is
unnatural and that’s why they need the freedom to dip their penis
in every vagina that walks by.”

“
That
is not what I’m saying!”

“
And
that’s part of the cliché, too. What are you saying?”

“
I’m
—
”

“
Oh,”
she mocked him, “let me guess, because if you’re following the
anthropological asshole blueprint, you’re about to tell me you want
a threesome, and how men aren’t built for being with just one
woman.”

“
You’re
halfway right.”

Stunned
silence.

“
You
want me to sleep with you and Mike?” As she uttered the words and
made them real, his tension when he thought of Mike dissolved, like a
nightmare monster that disappeared when you awoke. Strong and fierce
in the subconscious, the light of day makes it innocuous—even
destroyed. He didn’t want Mike to be destroyed.

He
wanted his own fear to be gone.

Speaking
the truth, now, vanquished it. All that was left was Lydia’s
reaction and the forward path.

That
held no fear, but it could hold considerable sadness and grief,
depending on what unfolded before him.

“
Um...yes,
but we’re not quite there yet.”

“
It’s
like you’re speaking Aramaic here, Jeremy, with a Jersey Shore
accent.”

“
I
want you to feel free to sleep with Mike if you want to.”