Loud laughter erupted from the door as Toby, our water deliveryman, stood holding our weekly five gallons on his shoulder. “Never a dull moment in here, huh ladies?”
Jasmine didn’t miss a beat. “Hey, Toby, what do you call your penis in the heat of the moment?”
I choked on a bite of bagel as he shook his head to ward off her question and switched the water bottles out.
I spoke up glaring at Jasmine. “Sorry Toby, I apologize on her behalf. She was raised by Mrs. Valdez, who ran a brothel in Mexico.”
“Har, har,” Jasmine snapped before narrowing her eyes at me. “And as far as that story goes, I grew up with my aunt in California who lived just over the border.” Jasmine walked over to where Toby stood and I cringed. “I’m serious. Toby, are you married?” Toby turned to us with his hands on his hips. He was stocky and a little taller than Jasmine but not by much. He had a teddy bear’s build and thick sandy blond hair. One side of his mouth lifted. “Married, no. And you really want to know?”
She nudged him with her shoulder. “Water cooler talk.” Toby and I shook our heads fighting a laugh before he assessed Jasmine with a thorough once-over. “Depends.”
“On?” Jasmine’s voice was syrupy sweet, and I rolled my eyes at her as she looked on at Toby unashamed and entertained.
“On how dirty the sex is,” Toby replied boldly.
Jasmine’s dark eyes fixed on his lips as he spoke. “If it’s dirty…”
Even I was leaning forward as Toby sucked all the air out of the room. “I mean if it’s really dirty…”
“Yes?” we said in unison. He leaned over and began whispering in her ear. She nodded as she kept her playful brown eyes on me. My bagel became chalk in my mouth as the two whispered back and forth before I swallowed and demanded an answer. “Well?”
Jasmine’s mouth dropped as he leaned in one last time and whispered to her suggestively before he gave me a departing wink and walked out the door.
Her impossibly tan face turned crimson.
“Well?”
“It’s cock.”
“One point, Koti. I told you.”
“I think my breasts are sweating,” she said, fanning her boobs. “Did you feel the heat coming off of that one?”
I was definitely feeling… something. “Is it weird that just made me hot?”
Jasmine shook her head and we both laughed. “Babe, I would be worried about you if you weren’t. Phew,” she picked up one of our brochures and used it as a makeshift fan for her sweaty breasts. “Who knew the water boy had it in him? Then again that is the basis for good porn.”
“You are something else you know that? Get a grip, Gersch. Your escapades have turned you into a pervert.”
“Cock…” she practiced shaking her head and wrinkling her nose. “Cock.” She pushed her voice up a decibel. “Cock.” She looked over to me. “It sounds weird, right? In no way, does that sound sexy coming out of my mouth”
“Maybe it’s the Minnesota in you. It sounds more like you’re saying caulk.”
“Cock,” she repeated, shaking her head again as I buried my head between my hands and pressed my forehead to my desk. Her voice was low as she spoke it again. “Cock.” She practiced again and I banged my head on my desk. “Cock,” she repeated until… “Nope, it’s penis.”
AFTER WORK, BECAUSE IT HAD been a decent day and I felt I had the strength to handle it, I answered my phone as I was stripping down for a shower.
“Hi, Mom.” I unbuttoned my shorts and slid them off before I laid on my bed in a sweaty heap.
“Koti, Troy Emerick wants to meet with you!” I ignored her attempt at getting straight down to business without greeting pleasantries and went on a spiel of my own.
“I’m fine. The weather is great. I think we may get some rain, which we need. Work is good. We’re gaining clients daily.”
“Koti.” Her voice held that sharpness I’d grown used to but had also become immune to.
“This is Troy Emerick, you know he’s one of the best agents in New York. He’s agreed to meet with you as a favor to me.”
“Thank you, but I’m happy here. I wish you hadn’t called in that favor on my account.”
“What you’re doing with your life is not sustainable forever.”
“I disagree,” I said, turning to study my body in the full-length mirror. It was a far cry from the stick thin skeleton frame it was a year ago. The circles under my eyes had disappeared. I’d gained the twenty pounds I needed to resemble healthy. I wondered if for one second my mother would forget her ambitions for me and notice the difference if she saw the new state I was in, or if it would even matter. “Mom, I’m in my underwear ready for a shower, can I call you back?”
“No, because you won’t.” I gritted my teeth but held in my impatient sigh as she continued. “He can get you back in. You might have to—”
“Mother, I already sold my soul. New York has it, okay? I’m never going back.” I took a deep breath in an attempt to ignore the stirring tension in my limbs.
“Okay, Koti, it’s been long enough. I’ve talked to your father and we need you to come back to discuss your future.” And there it was. I was sure it took a good amount of her strength to be a concerned parent first and put expectant on the back burner. Apparently, a year was her limit.
But she hadn’t been there, not in the way I needed her. And though my father tried, he couldn’t understand just how that day had changed me. I had a hard enough time coming to grips with it myself.
At that moment, I remembered running through endless faces in the freezing cold with a box full of my belongings in six-hundred-dollar heels, my face pouring defeat, my heart pounding out of my chest, passing stranger after stranger, the words ‘help me’ on my lips and not a single soul around who gave a shit. After wandering aimlessly around New York for hours without a future, I tossed the box that held my degree in the garbage and sat in front of it in the cold until my limbs went numb.
“Mom, I’m a little old for this talk of my future. If you’re going to threaten to take away the house, I’m prepared for that, so go ahead and do it. I’m too old to map out my life, instead, I’m living it. Here in St. Thomas. This is my future. Whatever issues you have with my failure, you’re just going to have to deal with it, like I have.”
“Deal with it!? You ran away!” Her breathing was erratic. She had totally planned to play the house card. But how much of a threat would it be anyway if the stipulation was to return to New York?
“Are you taking the house away?” I pressed on, unafraid of what she would say. There was nothing she could do to me that the world hadn’t done already.
“Of course not, Koti,” she feigned offense.
I heard my father ask to speak to me. That card I wasn’t ready for. He was still disappointed I lied to him with my promise to come home for Christmas.
“I have to go, Mom. I have a renter calling.”
“Koti! We haven’t seen you in a year! You’re breaking your father’s heart.”
“I know, Mom, and I’m sorry. I’ve already apologized for that. I’m not ready.
“Koti.” My father’s voice was a mix of concern and growing impatience for both of us, I was sure.
“Dad, I’m sorry I can’t talk now.”
“Listen to me, you either get on a plane or we will.”
“Dad, I have to work,” I said weakly, his deep voice piercing my heart. “I can’t just leave; my boss depends on me.”
“No more excuses on either side.” I knew his stern words were also meant for my mother, who I was sure was the reason my father hadn’t already shown up in St. Thomas. I knew she was sure I would come running back for financial help, guidance, or both. Another disappointment for her.
“I need to see my little girl.”
His words struck hard and I did my best not to let him hear it. “Soon, Dad, I promise. I love you both. I’ve got to go.”
“Koti—”
“Dad, I’ll call you back. I love you.” I hung up as my heartbeat sped up and my face flamed.
I lay back in bed panting, a tear rolling down my cheek. In and out. Breathe. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing’s wrong. You’re okay. You’re okay.
“Nothing’s wrong.”