Jenny has been in the best mood ever this week, and I know it’s because she’s looking forward to this night as much as I am. I've just dropped the kids off with Carter and Claire with strict instructions not to call us unless one of the kids is bleeding from the eyes. And only if it’s a lot of blood, like, “Oh my God, so much blood!” If you’re just like, “Eh, some drops of blood from the eyes, nothing to get your panties in a bunch about,”’ don’t call me. I’ve already hidden Jenny’s cell phone in my pants so she has no choice but to give the meat whistle a little rub if she wants to check on the kids.
I've left Jenny at home to finish getting ready and because I know if she goes with me to drop the kids off, it would have taken at least an hour of her kissing them over and over and apologizing for leaving them and then kissing them both ten more times before we could even walk out the door. At least she doesn’t make too much of a scene when I leave our house with them. As soon as I see her eyes start to fill with tears, I do the whole, “Oooh look, a butterfly!” and then turn and run. I would have made it to the car too if Veronica wasn’t so slow. I need to practice some wind sprints with that kid for situations like this.
I get back home and pull into the driveway, and when I get out of the car, the new guy who moved in across the street is taking his garbage out and lifts his hand in a wave. I wave back and wonder if the dude even owns a shirt. Every time I’ve seen him outside since he's moved in, he’s been half naked. It’s a disgrace to the neighborhood. Especially since everyone on this street knows I’m the one who looks the best doing yard work without a shirt. Some people just don’t know their place.
Walking through the front door, I check myself in the mirror in the front hall.
Damn, I look good. Screw naked guy outside. I’ve got it going on.
I straighten my hair and smooth the front of my date night shirt that says: I fuck on the first date. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Jenny in the mirror and turn around, my eyes bugging out of my head. She’s wearing a short, red strapless dress with her hair piled up on top of her head, and a pair of red, strappy sandals that are so high I’m surprised she can walk in them. She looks so hot I can already feel myself getting a chubby.
“Holy fuck, baby. You look awesome,” I tell her as she walks up to me and smiles.
“Thanks. I haven’t fit into this since before Veronica was born.”
She grabs her purse and we head out the door, my eyes never leaving her ass.
I am so getting lucky tonight.
~
“Oh my gosh, remember that time you went down on me during my cousin’s wedding?” Jenny asks as she finishes off her fourth glass of wine and leans closer to me so our shoulders are touching.
After her second glass of wine, she starts getting chatty, just like old times. Whenever we used to go out before we had Billy, we would always wind up talking about our sex life. We had an amazing sex life. I used to think about Jenny and I doing some sort of seminar for loser married couples who only have sex to get pregnant. I had always thought we would be the best people to teach others about how much fun you could have in the bedroom. We could use props and I could make a flow chart. Listening to her talk about our fun times makes me realize how UN-fun our times have been lately. Hopefully not for much longer.
“Oh my gosh, remember that night we played Monopoly and every time someone landed on Park Place one of us had to have an orgasm?” she asks as she puts her hand on the back of my neck and runs her fingers through my hair.
“That was the best game of Monopoly ever. Didn’t we have to throw the board away because we got ketchup and hot wax all over it?” I ask her, trying not to pant like a dog as her nails lightly scratch the back of my neck.
“Yep. And we had to use nail polish remover to get the play money off of your ass when we played ‘Pin the money on Drew’ with the wax. Best night ever,” she whispers in my ear.
The hard on I’ve had since she had walked out of the bedroom in the red dress is now a full blown state of emergency. One more story about our past sexcapades and I’m going to need to shut this restaurant down, and the waiters will need to put on Hazmat suits.
“What about that time when we first moved in together at your old place when the neighbors used to sell honey at a road side stand in their front yard?” she asks softly close to my ear.
I’m going to come in my pants in three seconds.
I clear my throat and shift in my seat, trying to move Big Drew around a little so I’m not so uncomfortable.
“Ha, they formed a neighborhood watch because they thought there was some huge conspiracy where people were stealing honey to sell it on the black market,” I remember with a laugh.
“I never understood that. Why would they think only black people want honey?” she asks in confusion.
I don’t even think about correcting her because I don’t want anything to ruin this good mood she’s in.
“I wonder how many bottles of honey we actually stole that month. It had to be close to a hundred.”
She smiles and nods, placing a soft kiss on my cheek before pulling back to continue with the memory.
“That last night was a fun night until we spent a little too long on foreplay and the honey started to dry and get sticky. It was like giving you a Brazilian wax to get that stuff off!”