Chapter Eleven
Masturbating is Like Riding a Bike
Subtitle: The Next Great American Fisherman
The loud chime of my phone rips me from sleep. Muttering a curse, I slap my hand around clumsily on the nightstand until I find it.
“This better be Ryan Reynolds or I’m hanging up,” I grumble.
“Nope, just us,” Tully chirps.
“Did we wake you up?” Bell asks. “It’s lunchtime.”
“Not here it isn’t,” I whine. “It’s just after seven.”
“Oh right, I forgot about the time difference,” Tully says. “Well now that you’re up, how’s it going?”
I groggily fill my sisters in on the events leading up to Kyle’s current condition and the day I spent with Will. I also tell them that Will is, in fact, my would-have-been one-night stand.
“No way!” Bell exclaims. “Of course that would happen to you,” she laughs.
“It’s not funny,” I say. “Do you know how hard it’s been to be around him these last few days? My hormones are in overdrive. It’s like they recognize him or something. They know he was going to potentially end the dry spell and now they crave him like little sex pigs.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Tully asks. “Based on what you’ve said, it seems like the feeling is mutual and he knows you and Kyle are just playing house. I say, feed those sex piggies.”
“The problem, Tulip, is that he’s my boyfriend’s brother, and as far as the rest of Kyle’s family knows, he and I are in a committed, fantastic fucking relationship. I can’t compromise the mission just to get my lady rocks off. That’s totally selfish.”
“Does Kyle know that you almost bumped uglies with his brother?” Bell snickers.
“No,” I sigh. “He’s under enough stress right now, I didn’t want to add to it. Besides, it’s fine. I hardly know Will anyways. I’m sure I can control myself. He’s just so mmm. I don’t even have words,” I say. “God, I don’t think I’ve been even mildly attracted to a man since Todd.”
“I don’t know, Pop. You better release some of that tension before you end up jumping on the poor guy’s face,” Tully says.
“I agree,” Bell chimes in. “You better give yourself some love. It’ll clear your mind.”
“You’re probably right,” I reply. “Ugh, enough about me. What’s new at home?”
We chat for a few more minutes, I nag Bell about making sure she checks in with Angela for her schedule for the rest of the week, and listen to Tully vent about some other mom at school giving her shit for sending a family size box of Twinkies to yesterday’s class party.
I’m wide awake by the time we hang up and decide I might as well get ready for the day. I stumble to the bathroom and as I brush my teeth, my eyes land on the reflection of the shower head in the mirror. Hmmm.
I was far too embarrassed to tell my sisters that due to the apathetic nature of my recent slump, I seem to have forgotten how to masturbate. I’m packing over a year’s worth of orgasms in my invisible chastity belt.
I swish and rinse, still eyeing up the showerhead as I begin to think of possible ways in which it can assist in getting me off. It looks like it detaches.
I brush out my tangled hair and toss my clothes on the floor. I can already feel the anticipation of a much needed orgasm coursing through my veins as I step into the shower and turn on the water. I wet my hair and decide to get the practicalities of cleansing out of the way first. Once I’m soaped up and rinsed, I place a tentative hand on my stomach and trail my fingertips down, hoping not to encounter any cobwebs along the way. I start slow and begin by simply coercing the little lady to life. Yeah, I can do this. It’s like riding a bike.
I trace a slick finger down a little further and shock myself when a desperate groan tumbles from my lips. The ones on my face, not the ones between my legs. Sweet Jesus. Screw waiting, I need assistance and I need it now. You’re up, Drake. Yes, I named the shower head. It feels less desperate this way.
With one hand still resting between my legs, I reach for Drake and give him a tug but he doesn’t budge. Hm, playing hard to get I see. My fingers glide against my now aching centre and I try again to unlatch Drake from the tile wall. Goddammit son of a bitch, what is this thing forged to the wall with, steel plates?!
I impatiently reach both hands around Drake’s handle and pull as hard as I can, feeling a shiver of victory as I begin to feel him loosen up. But before I can claim my triumph and reward myself with a naughty water massage, all hell breaks loose.
I rip Drake completely off the wall and stumble backwards, suddenly assaulted by a non-stop, pressure-filled pummeling of freezing cold water to the face. I try in vain to get closer to the wall, to put Drake back where he belongs but the water is too strong and I can’t reach it. Suddenly I’m falling, landing on my wet ass with a resounding thud. I scramble like a naked, horny crab and try to dodge the angry spray. I feel like Aladdin in the cave of wonders, only I guess I’m technically not Aladdin in this scenario; I’m the stupid monkey who snatches things they shouldn’t. And now I’m being punished.
“Help! Ahhhh, help me!” I manage to gurgle.
The bathroom door opens abruptly and I can see Kyle hobbling towards me, still half asleep. “Poppy, what the hell?!”
“Turn- turn off the wa-water, it’s so cold,” I gasp.
He flips the faucet off and reaches for the nearest towel, helping me to stand as he pries Drake from my kung-fu grip. He sets me down on the toilet and wraps another towel around my shivering body.
“I’m going to call down to the front desk and get maintenance up here,” he says.
I nod a response, unable to form words through my chattering teeth and humiliation.
Ten minutes later, I’m dressed and sitting beside Kyle on the edge of my bed. A cup of hot coffee is nestled between my hands while Martin and Kaleo assess the damage from my unsuccessful masturbatory escapade. They emerge from the bathroom and I swear to God they know what’s up.
“We managed to stop the leak,” Martin says, not quite able to meet my eyes. “We’ll have to order a new shower head.”
“That’s fine, thank you,” I reply casually. “I can just use the tub.”
“The shower heads are bolted on pretty tightly,” Kaleo says. “You must have pulled really hard.”
Seriously…bouncy house, wet pants…that was the worst thing ever, Poppy?
“Thanks guys, we appreciate it,” Kyle says, escorting the two men to the door. “You can charge the expense to the room.”
Once the door closes, he turns to me and raises one of his perfectly groomed eyebrows, “Sooo, do- “
“I don’t wanna talk about it.”
*
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” I ask Kyle as we step into the elevator.
“I can’t just sit around and do nothing, all I keep thinking about is George and it’s driving me crazy,” he says. “I’ll be fine, and besides, I can’t abandon you two days in a row and force you to endure my family alone. I feel bad enough that you had to spend a boring day with my brother yesterday. I hope it wasn’t too painful and that he at least managed to talk about something besides work.”
“About that, you know, they really aren’t th- “
I’m interrupted as the elevator opens and people begin to file in. After my humiliating attempt at self- gratification this morning, Kyle told me that we’d be spending the day on his family’s boat. We’ll be having breakfast aboard the Azalea, which is also the state flower of Georgia. Thank you, Google. But I’m not taking any chances on my overactive digestive system today. I had a light snack in our room and grabbed some Dramamine from the gift shop. Nothing is going to spoil today. No sir, no fucking way.
I follow behind Kyle as he uses a set of crutches to make his way across the lobby. His knee seems to be feeling better and I’m hoping that today might lift his spirits a bit. We head down to the hotel marina where the Azalea is docked and waiting.
“So, is there anything I need to know about deep sea fishing?” I ask with a grin. “Or proper boat etiquette?”
“I think you’ll be fine, Pop,” he smirks.
As we approach the dock I begin to feel it. Today is going to be a good day. Kyle’s mood is somewhat improving, I’m going to try something new, and although my hormones remain feral and cranky, I can’t deny that I’m looking forward to seeing Will. And not just because he’s ridiculously satisfying to look at. I had a good time with him yesterday. Enjoying the company of a man again is something that seemed so far away just a week ago.
I should probably remember that even the tiniest attraction to Kyle’s brother comes with a massive list of complications. I should, but maybe for just a little while longer, I won’t.
Kyle points out the boat floating at the end of a long white dock and we make our way down the narrow concrete path leading to the marina. As we approach, I can see Maureen and Rose sitting under the beige canopy at a patio style booth along the one side of the main deck and I spot Byron speaking to a man in a white uniform, who I assume to be the captain. My eyes continue to peruse but I don’t see the current occupant of my thoughts anywhere.
“Poppy?”
“Yeah, sorry, what’s up?”
“What are you looking at?”
“Me? Nothing,” I say.
“Hi, kids!” Maureen calls out. “Come aboard!”
“Your mom is seriously adorable,” I say.
“I wish she didn’t try so hard to make everything seem perfect,” he says.
“Maybe she’s just trying to make sure everyone is happy,” I suggest.
My statement hangs in the air as we take the steps up to the main deck. I know Kyle is stressed about George and the fact that there even is a George, but he needs to cut his mom some slack.
“I’m gonna head below for a minute,” Kyle says. “Are you okay up here?”
“She’s fine, dear,” Rose says. “Poppy, come sit down and have something to eat before we head out.”
Kyle leans down and presses his lips to my cheek before he heads down a small flight of stairs. Even though it’s all for show, I still feel my cheeks turn pink.
“Aw, aren’t you two sweet,” Maureen says.
I take a seat beside Rose and fill a small paper plate with some fresh fruit and a scoop of granola. Sitting on the water provides a fresh breeze and I easily think how I could be very happy spending all my free time right where I am now.
“Maureen, did you have a good time at the spa yesterday?” I ask between bites.
“Oh lord, yes,” she says. “I got massaged and scrubbed and it was just wonderful.”
“Good,” I say. “My mom goes for a massage once a month. She says she’d be miserable if she didn’t,” I chuckle.
“Tell us about your family,” Maureen says. “You never know, we might find ourselves with a common reason to celebrate in the future,” she winks.
I try to speak above the guilt that washes over me when she smiles at me with obvious wedding bells in her eyes. I tell her and Rose about my dad’s retirement from teaching and that my parents still live in the house I grew up in. I’m surprised that Maureen recognizes my mom’s pen name when I tell them she’s a writer.
“I can’t believe your mother is the Jules Jackson,” she says. “My book club has read three of her books.”
“Small world,” I say. “I’ll have to tell her, she’ll be delighted. Actually she’s working on something ne- “
My words get lodged in my throat as I look up and see Will making his was down the dock. He’s casual and handsome, of course, but that’s not what has me stuttering. Nope. It’s the unnaturally tall blonde walking beside him, leaning in towards him. She’s laughing. And he’s smiling.
What the fu- Easy Poppy, control your irrational jealousy over a man you aren’t even dating. Before I can do a thorough assessment of Will’s body language and analyze it, Maureen notices the happy couple and hops up to her feet.
“Amanda King, is that you honey?”
“Yes ma’am,” Charlize Theron 2.0 says with a perfect white smile. She’s dressed casually yet professionally in pair of khaki shorts and a snug black T-shirt. She’s not wearing any jewelry and her hair is tied back in a messy braid. I can tell from here she’s one of those natural beauty types. Shit, I really need to rein in my irritation.
Will hangs back and lets Amanda step aboard the boat, her long legs making the effort look far more graceful than I care to admit. She and Maureen embrace in a tight hug, keeping their hands joined as they part.
“I can’t believe it, honey. How long has it been?” Maureen asks.
“Oh gosh, it must be about four years now,” Amanda says. “I think that was the last time I was home.”
“What in the world are you doing here?”
“I’m here for work, actually, writing a piece on Mount Haleakala,” she says. “I was walking through the hotel lobby and I spotted Will. I thought I was imagining things,” she laughs. “I just had to tag along with him and say hello.”
“Oh, how nice,” Maureen says. “Will and Poppy took a helicopter tour through the volcano yesterday.”
“Oh?” As if noticing my existence for the first time, she turns to face me and gives me a bright smile, walking towards the patio table. “Mimi, it’s so good to see you,” she says, leaning down and draping her arm around Rose’s shoulders.
“Mmmhm, dear. It would seem that I am not yet dead,” Rose replies simply.
She then extends her hand to me. “Hi there,” she says brightly.
“Amanda, this is Poppy, Kyle’s lady friend,” Maureen says with a grin. “Poppy, this is Amanda. We go way back with her folks. She and Will went to school together, lord, from kindergarten until college graduation, is that right?”
“That’s right,” Amanda confirms.
“Nice to meet you,” I say.
“Likewise,” she says with a genuine smile.
“Can you join us for the day?” Maureen asks. “We’d love to have you.”
“Aw, unfortunately I have a meeting with the Preservation Board that I need to get to,” she says. “But I might have some free time tomorrow, if the offer stands?”
“Of course it does. You’re practically family, honey,” Maureen says.
It’s then that I notice the look of apprehension on Will’s handsome face, but before I can decipher its meaning, Kyle comes up from below deck. “Mandy?”
“Hey Ky,” she says, stepping towards him. “Jeez, you’re more handsome in person than you are in those fancy magazines.”
“Well, I do try,” he says, brushing an invisible speck of dirt from his shoulder.
“Amanda used to babysit Kyle,” Maureen explains.
“I swear, at eight years old he could walk better in my high heels than I could,” Amanda laughs. “Makes sense that you’re walking runways now, although that big brace of yours might put a stop to that. What’d you do this time?”
“I may have had a minor disagreement with a set of stairs,” Kyle says. “How long are you here for?” he asks.
“Just a couple days. I’ve gotta get going now, but hopefully I’ll see y’all tomorrow,” she says, gifting us with one more megawatt smile.
My eyes remain fixed on her as she brushes a hand along Will’s arm before heading back towards the hotel. His expression remains neutral. I vaguely notice Kyle swipe an apple from the bowl in front of me before he disappears again.
“Will, have a seat and grab a bite. Your father wants to head out soon.”
My eyes flash to his before he responds, “I think I’m good. I’m going to go see if everything’s ready to go.”
As he passes the table he slips a small box beside my plate, continuing on to where Byron is still speaking to the crew.
Dramamine. He brought me medicine so I wouldn’t throw up.
I finish my breakfast, hoping to get some information out of Rose but when I look over, she’s leaning back into the cushioned bench, her eyes closed.
Kyle emerges from below deck and gives me a very Cliff’s Notes version of boat anatomy 101. By the time he’s named half a dozen parts that I’ve already forgotten and given me a quick tour, the captain is ready to head out.
I know people usually rent charters for deep sea fishing, but I guess when you’re rich the people just come to you. A couple of crew members assist the men in setting up their equipment as the captain starts the engine and directs us away from the dock, setting out for open water. The ride is a bit bumpy but I don’t feel that bad as we get further and further away from the island. The wind whips through my hair as I sit on the same cushioned bench as before. I watch as Kyle and Will set up their rods and reels as they seem to tease each other. Glancing over at Maureen, I can see that she’s watching too, a hopeful smile on her face that blooms into pure joy as Byron joins in and soon the three men are laughing.
“If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to go freshen up,” she says, heading down below.
I notice that Rose is now awake so I turn and ask her, “Is she okay?”
“Oh she’ll be fine,” she says. “She just needs a minute. It’s been awhile since all her boys were together and smiling.”
“I feel awful about that,” I say. “I can’t imagine not being close to my family.”
“Mmmhm,” she nods. “This trip is gonna be good for all of them. That’s why I suggested it.”
“Maui was your idea? I just assumed it was Kyle’s parents’.”
“Byron is far too stubborn to ever admit there’s a rift in his family and my Maureen, bless her heart, often prefers the path of denial.”
“So, what’s the deal with Amanda and Will?” I ask casually. “Have they ever, like, dated or anything?”
“There a particular reason why you’re asking, honey?”
“No, just curious,” I lie.
“Mmhm,” she says. “Well it ain’t my story to tell, but I will say that those two have a history, if you know what I mean.”
“So they dated?”
“They were engaged, sweetie,” she says. “And when she called it off, she broke that boy’s heart. Now, why don’t you be a dear and go fix me up a cocktail?”
*
It isn’t long before we’re surrounded by nothing but the glittering blue ocean, the sun reflecting off the water all around us. The captain cuts the engine, allowing us to drift. Maureen and Rose set themselves up in a couple of fold-out chaises on the deck but I’m too antsy to sit and sunbathe. I head over to where the rods are set up unattended for the time being and gaze out at the water.
“Do me a favour and pass me that white bucket,” Byron says, suddenly beside me.
“This one?”
“That’s the one,” he says as he threads a piece of fishing line through a large metal hook. “Have you ever been fishing?”
“No, I haven’t actually,” I reply.
He removes the lid from the bucket, the stench of fish assaulting my nostrils instantly. “That smells terrible,” I exclaim.
“Yes, it does,” he chuckles.
“Isn’t that kind of weird? Using fish to catch fish? Seems kind of cannibalistic,” I say, scrunching up my nose.
He doesn’t respond with more than a snort as he pulls a mangled chunk of meat from the bucket and threads it onto the hook. He wipes his hands on a rag when he’s done and passes me the rod.
“You want me to fling this thing out there?” I ask.
“I want you to cast the line,” he corrects me.
He gives me a quick lesson and once I’ve got my line in the ocean, he instructs me to place the rod in the holder and take a seat beside him.
“So, what do we do now?”
“We wait,” he says, passing me a bottle. “And we have a beer.”
A moment of silence passes as we sit there and watch the water. I can tell that Kyle’s dad is definitely reserved but I get the feeling he comes by it naturally.
“So, Kyle mentioned that you’re recently retired,” I mention. “My dad retired last year., I think it’s been kind of hard on him.”
“It’s an adjustment,” he admits. “It’s hard to let go.”
“My dad says that too. He’s always trying to find new things to occupy his time.”
I tell him about my dad’s most recent venture into the business of vitamins.
“That sounds like a pyramid scheme,” he says.
“That’s what I said,” I say with a laugh. “But he’s convinced it isn’t, so my sisters and I just leave him to it. He’ll get bored eventually.”
“Maureen is always after me to try new things,” he says after a beat. “Old habits are hard to break, I suppose.”
“Amen,” I say, clinking my bottle to his.
“So, are you in the, uh, industry?”
“The ind- Oh God, no,” I laugh. “I leave the modeling to Kyle. Actually, I clean houses. I have a small company.”
“You own the company?” He asks with a hint of admiration.
“Yes, I do,” I say proudly.
“I don’t suppose you could rub some of that common sense onto my son? Maybe persuade him to stop dallying around in a woman’s world?”
“I don’t know why I would,” I respond. “Kyle’s good at what he does, and he enjoys it.”
“I’ll never understand that boy,” he says.
“You don’t really have to understand him to support his decisions, do you?” I ask.
“You sound like my wife,” he says.
“Well, I’ll take that as a compliment then. Your wife is lovely and you’re very lucky,” I smile.
“Amen,” he says
A slight jingle brings my attention to the fishing rod at my side. I look down at the rod and then back up before realizing this means I must have something on the other end. “It moved. Did you see that?” I ask.
Kyle and Will come around the corner, each holding a fresh bucket of bait.
“Might be a snag,” Kyle says, moving towards the rod.
I smack his hand away before he can touch it, earning a chuckle from Byron. “Don’t touch it,” I scold.
“Ow,” Kyle laughs. “She’s all yours,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender.
I pick up the rod and feel a tug on the other end, while I half listen as Byron instructs me on what to do next. I slowly begin to reel in the line, only to have it jerked nearly out of my hands.
“Hang on!” all three of them shout collectively.
I should hand this thing over to someone else. I have no idea what I’m doing and I’ll probably make a complete fool of myself. But then a tiny voice inside says, fuck it. You got this, Poppy!
I tighten my grip on the handle of the rod, holding it as steady as I can, reeling in the line a little bit at a time.
“I got it, I got it,” I chant, my arms burning as I try to keep the rod steady. My thumb slips and the line hangs loose. “Actually, I don’t! I don’t have it!” I shout.
“You’re doing fine - nice and steady,” Byron reassures from beside me. “Now hang on tight, but give him a little slack.”
I’m holding the damn thing with two hands, but whatever’s on the other end is not budging. Suddenly, visions of Jaws run rampant through my head and I have a very real fear that I’m about to be eaten alive.
“He’s gonna kill me,” I exclaim. “It’s a great white shark. I swear it’s a great white shark!”
“It’s not a great white shark. Keep it steady,” Byron says calmly. “Now try reeling him in. Thatta girl.”
“Are you sure it’s not a shark? Because it feels like a shark!”
“You got this, Poppy,” Kyle says.
I take my focus off the line and glance at Will who gives me an encouraging nod. He’s so handsome, standing there, watching me he- Jesus Christ, focus Poppy!
“Keep reeling,” Byron says. “Now, pull him up!”
I use every muscle in my body to pull Moby Dick aboard and when his flailing body emerges from the water I begin to chant like a wild woman. “I got him! I got that mother fucker!”
“That you did,” Byron chuckles, guiding the biggest fish in the entire world into the net that Will is holding out for me.
“Aww, look at him,” I say lovingly.
“That’s a good looking fish,” Will says, flashing me a smile.
I watch in fascination as Byron gently pulls the hook from Moby’s mouth and holds the fish in two hands. My trophy. My living, breathing proof that I just battled a great beast of the sea and won. I am Poppy Kramer, fishing prodigy extraordinaire.
He holds my fish up…and then chucks him back into the ocean.
“Hey! What the hell?” I protest.
“He’s too small to keep,” Kyle says gently. “We don’t keep the runts.”
Bryon cracks another beer and Will looks at me apologetically.
Well fuck.
*
Several hours later, I accepted that I am in fact not the next great American fisherman, since I hadn’t had another single bite. I also accepted the title of bait girl. Each time one of the boys caught a fish that made my little Moby look like nothing more than a goldfish, I dutifully rebaited their hooks and happily sat back, watching as the tension and hesitation melted between Kyle and his dad and brother. I would not consider this day a loss, not by a long shot.
I’m currently standing in a very tiny powder room below deck, scrubbing the fish juice from my hands when I look up and see Will in the small mirror above the sink. He’s holding a towel and when I turn to take it, the confines of the bathroom press our bodies close together. Much closer than they should be.
“Thanks,” I breathe out, accepting the towel.
“You’re welcome,” he says.
“You bought me medicine,” I state.
“I did.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” he says.
I tilt my head back and meet his stare, hoping that my mind isn’t playing tricks on me when I catch more than a hint of desire in his eyes. “Will,” I rasp.
“Poppy, I- “
The boat suddenly comes to a noticeable stop, jarring us both from what I want to believe was a two sided moment. Clumsy footsteps on the stairs separate us even further and Will turns back the way he came. I turn back to the sink and splash some cold water on my flushed cheeks.
“You all right?” Kyle asks, poking his head into the small space.
“Yeah, I’m good,” I smile, patting my face dry. I follow him through the small galley and back up to see that we’re back at the marina.
When we get back to the hotel, we all go our separate ways. When we arrive back at our suite, I hesitate before heading to my bedroom, unable to help myself and my burgeoning curiosity. “Hey, so, Mimi mentioned something about Will and Amanda today. Were they, like, engaged?”
“Yeah, they were. Didn’t I mention that?” he says, slipping off his shoes and checking his phone.
“No, I don’t think you did,” I say nonchalantly. Stop now Poppy. Stop being nosy.
“Hm, I thought I did,” he says. “We’ve known the Kings forever. Everyone just kind of figured Will and Amanda would end up together. They were engaged for a while during college but she called it off.”
“Why did she call it off?”
“Hell if I know. I was like thirteen and dealing with my own issues,” he says. “I do remember Will kind of fell apart,” he continues. “He left college for a while and camped out in the guest house. He didn’t really talk to anyone or do anything and then one day he just kind of got over it, I guess. He went back to school and no one ever really mentioned it again. Typical Edwards style,” he scoffs.
“Have you ever talked to him about it?”
“Nah,” he says, scrolling through his phone. “He was different after,” he says. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s always been serious and shit but it was worse after Amanda. He never brought anyone home after that, just the random date when duty called and he pretty much buried himself in school and then work. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, I was just curious,” I explain. “He seems nice. I was just being nosy I guess.”
“Hm. All right, I’m going to put my leg up. I’m bagged,” he says, heading for his bedroom. “You should go out or something.”
“Yeah, maybe I will.”
The intention to go anywhere dies the minute I lay back on my bed, replaying my conversation with Kyle and feeling something for Will that, for the first time since I met him, is in no way is centred around lust.