Sam

The thought of home might have been boring, but waking up in the comfort of my room surrounded by reminders of childhood, with no worries about what time it is or what the structure of the day will be, definitely doesn’t suck.

The subtle aroma of coffee wafts into my room from the kitchen. I can make out solid daylight through the curtains, and Dad’s always been out the door by six thirty, so it must be Mom. But why would she be home? She’s forever involved in charity this or volunteer that.

My parents have done well for themselves, not that they live in excess, but home is nestled in a gated community butted up against a stretch of private beach. In an otherwise middle-class town built off of beach tourism, you’d be lucky to find a yard with much more than weeds poking through the soil, but not in our neighborhood. In our neighborhood, the houses each have immaculate curbside presentation complete with thick, perfectly manicured, St. Augustine sod. It must be some kind of dick measuring tool, or status symbol, or something because it’s difficult to maintain and requires near constant maintenance. But every fucking idiot around here is forever outside watering or mowing or something. Not that my parents ever had time for that—one of the many perks they lucked in to having Ian next door. His top crew swings by the neighborhood and make sure both yards are perfection. No other lawn in the neighborhood even comes close. I guess if it is a dick measuring tool, Ian’s dick wins.

Much as I’d like to stay in bed playing with the thought of Ian’s dick for a while, I’m on my feet with a yawn as I fumble my way towards the kitchen to start my morning IV of caffeine.

I turn the corner and am nearly tackled. “Mom?”

“Samantha! Oh, how I’ve missed my girl!” Mom engulfs me in a warm, firm hug. “You’re up earlier than I expected! What time did you get in last night?” she asks.

“I don’t know. Late,” I mutter, trying to regain some space to breathe. “What are you doing home? I figured you’d be out till this afternoon,” I say.

“Well, I cleared my schedule for the day so we could have some girl time to catch up. Hope that doesn’t interfere with any plans you made.” Good thing I didn’t make plans because that didn’t exactly seem like a question.

She spends the next forty-five minutes sitting with me at the kitchen table, filling me in on every small detail of life I couldn’t possibly care less about while I focus on getting my caffeine level back to its baseline.

“Oh, and remember Ian and Gail from next door?” My attention snaps to my mother. “Well, you know they divorced over the winter, right?” she asks.

What. The. Fuck?

Did the world just spin upside down and backward in a blink? How is she still talking? Didn’t she feel that too?

How in the hell am I only now finding this out? Why didn’t I get a phone call at two in the damn morning if that’s when shit went down? This is important and I should’ve been, like, the third person on Earth to know about it.

Mom chatters on without me while I regain consciousness.

“Poor little Will. I guess his mother was more concerned about her new boy-toy—you know that’s why she left him, don’t you? Rumor has it there was a torrid affair for months before she left. She was barely hiding it at the end. Just putting it out there for anyone to see. It was disgusting.” Mom shakes her head. “You know this new one, he’s only just turned thirty! Anyway, she basically dumped Will on Ian and bolted. Now it’s just the two of them next door. He’s really taken it hard though. Ian that is. I mean, he hasn’t said anything to Rick, but how could he not? Will stays so busy with his Scouts and sports that I’m not sure he has had time to process. Anyway, I don’t want to be a gossip, but I didn’t want you running into him and stepping on a land mine, it’s been a sensitive topic.”

“Holy shit!” The words fly from my mouth, skipping the mind to mouth filter checkpoint.

“Yeah, it’s a terrible shame,” she says, nodding.

Yeah, it’s a shame. A shame Gail, that horrible waste of a human being, was stupid enough to walk away from a living breathing Adonis, who also happens to be one of the most easygoing and decent people I’ve ever known.

“What’s Ian doing with himself? Is he seeing someone?” I ask, trying my best to play it cool.

“I doubt it. From what Dad picked up through their conversations, he’s focusing on work. I think he is in denial. She must have really done a number on him,” Mom says.

“Bitch.” Again, the words help themselves right out of my mouth.

“Yes, well… Honestly, I don’t think he’s ready to put himself back out there, and I can’t say I blame him. They were high school sweethearts and got married right after college. I don’t know any specifics, but you know she never seemed to have the same commitment to him he had for her.”

Mom continues to ‘not gossip’ about all the various details of their now defunct relationship, while the seed of an idea sprouts in my mind.

Ian could use a rebound to help him move forward and I know I can help him forget about that fucking wildebeest.

Age difference be damned! If Gail can find love, or whatever, in a thirty-year-old, why couldn’t Ian be happy with me at twenty-one? But how do I get him to see me as the woman I am and not his best friend’s daughter? Little Samantha next door?

I drag through the rest of the day with mom, only half present, as my thoughts continue drifting back to Ian and how I can help him get back at that lying, cheating, whore… and the idea of skin on skin contact with him has me dripping wet in the pedi-chair at the nail salon.

By the time we get home from dinner I have worked every detail out in my head. I need to be up front with him in my intentions to help him see there are other fish in the sea, but maybe I don’t have to be too honest? At least not full disclosure up front? I mean, once I’ve convinced him to get his pole back in the water, I can convince him I’m a fish too, right?