Page 87 of Stroked Long
“Why would you do that? You don’t run.” And that’s the God’s honest truth. My mom refuses to break a sweat, she believes sweating is for men and pigs. I don’t get the logic. Every human perspires. Hell, my pits are dank just from hearing the frantic tone in my mom’s voice.
“There are two reasons I run . . .”
My eyes fly open and my heart pounds in my chest. “Black Friday and Yarn Sale.”
“And it’s not November.”
Screaming at the top of my lungs, scaring the ever-living shit out of Bodi, I run in place and throw my hands in the air only to bring the phone back down to my mouth. “Yarn sale!!”
“Sweetheart, brace yourself. All Red Heart yarn is on sale. Dare I say, even the boutique styles.”
“Oh. Em. Gee.” I start pacing in the classroom. “Please tell me I can use the twenty-five percent-off coupon I’ve been saving.”
“Honey,” she pauses, “you can.”
“Sweet honeyed ham.” I turn to Bodi and say, “I can’t hang out tonight; I have some shopping to do.”
“Hang out? What are you talking about?” my mom asks.
“Oh sorry, I was talking to Bodi.”
And now my mom is screeching in the phone. “You’re with Bodi? Are you two together? Are you an item? Have you kissed him? Oh, put him on the phone. Mommy wants to talk to him.”
So not going to happen.
“Yeah, I’m afraid that’s not on the docket for today, but thanks for asking.”
“I don’t mind talking to her,” Bodi says, clearly able to hear our conversation.
“Yes, you do,” I inform him.
“No, I don’t.”
“You do.” This time when I talk to him I use my stern face.
Sadly, it doesn’t work.
“Seriously, I can handle it.”
“Just give him the phone,” my mom shouts.
Hating everything about this, I roll my eyes and hand Bodi the phone.
“Hello, Mrs. Hearts.” From a distance I can hear my mom cooing into the phone only to follow it up with a lecture on how to be nice to her daughter.
Looking me dead in the eyes, Bodi says, “I have no intention of hurting her, Mrs. Hearts. Okay, yeah. Have a good night as well.” Holding his hand over the phone before handing it over, he says to me, “Grab your purse, we have some yarn shopping to do.”
***
“You hate me, don’t you?”
“Why would you say that?” Bodi asks, peeking his head over the pile of yarn I’ve forced him to carry.
“Because I’m using you as a mule. You have yarn coming out of your pockets.” Yes, I stuffed yarn into his pockets. Didn’t mind grazing his tush while doing it. “And for the last five minutes you’ve been patiently waiting, not complaining, while I try to decide between getting white or soft white.”
“Go with the soft white.” He winks at me.
Really? This man, how can I not want to jump him right here in the yarn aisle while little old ladies bump elbows to cash in on the mega deal going down in the craft store. The moment my mom mentioned yarn sale, I was gearing up to fight it out on my own but Bodi wouldn’t allow it. I told him multiple times that he didn’t have to go but he refused to see me be thrown defenseless into the seas of canes and dentures.
