Chapter 18: Meeting Your Expectations

“For so long, I was hoping to meet someone. Someone I could share my life with. But I was sure it wouldn’t happen, because I saw no way past being too shy to go out, to date.

“But with you I was really beginning to hope, that we might have something special together. I was starting to have dreams about us, you and I, and being intimate. And that you might look at me with the same kind of interest, of anticipation, that I felt for you.

“You’re such a blazing beauty. Melanie. I hoped you might look at me and feel interested too.

“But tonight, we’re thrown together unexpectedly, and I am NOT ready. The one thing I didn’t anticipate: at the moment of truth, I’m limp. You must think I was lying about my feelings for you; how terribly dishonest to you I have been.

“I can see it now, it’s in your face. Your eyes are wet and wide with horror. Your knuckles are in your open mouth. You are betrayed!”

Quietly, Melanie hissed out, “Shut up.”

“What?”

Melanie was furious. And loud.

“Shut up! Shut your FUCKING mouth! God damn it, Jacob! Shut the fuck up and LISTEN. Shit! Are you listening to me now?”

“Yes, Melanie.”

“Any more of this bullshit and you WILL get bitch slapped. Jacob, I haven’t even LOOKED at your dick. (Not yet, anyway.) Jesus, men and their cocks!

“I brought you here, to my home, because I care about you!

“You oaf!

“You have been in a bad accident, with broken bones, shivering for two nights out in the woods without any help. For all I know you could have frostbite on your dick!

“I have a dildo, and a vibrator. What I don’t have is a sweet man, who cares for me and my little girl, and reads her bedtime stories.

“Hell, after listening to you tonight, I want you to read ME bedtime stories.

“You just accused me of being disappointed, because of what, your penis? That is offensive, Jacob. I deserve better.”

From the doorway: “Mama?”

Melanie whirled around and wrapped her arms around her daughter, fleeing, taking her back over to the smaller bedroom.

“I’m OK, Amy, Jacob told me something scary, and it made me shout. But it’s OK, it’s all fixed now.”

“You were mad at him?”

“Just for a minute, but we worked it out.”

“That’s good. He should stay here until his ankers, uh, ankles are better.”

“I told him, no more scary stuff, or I won’t give him any pancakes tomorrow. He said, OK.”

“Really?”

“Well, kind of. First he said, ‘Ooh, pancakes!’ And then he said, ‘I promise.’ So, Amy, go back to sleep now, so I can make us breakfast in the morning. Good night, baby.”

Back in the master bedroom.

“Phew! She didn’t get a good look. If she had, I would be back to explaining you and the mayonnaise jar. Now, Jacob, are you going to give me any more trouble tonight? No? Good. Let me get some powder in there, under the casts.

“When you are more comfortable, AND when you are NOT doped up to your eyeballs in libido-suppressing pain medications, THEN you and I can spend some time being frisky, OK? O.K.?!”

“Yes, ma’am. I understand.”

“Now, let’s see how much margin they left us for the cornstarch to get in there.”