Perfectly Adequate(34)

Is? Was? Can I say I’m sexually active if no sex is involved?

Truth. I’m actively seeking sex with Dr. Hawkins. That counts. Right?

I almost lost my virginity at twenty-three to a guy who was also a virgin. He thought he was inside of me. I thought he was in the vicinity. His cock slid between my folds, quite vigorously, and I kept waiting for it to take a sharp turn into the first hole. It never did.

When it was over, he asked if it was good for me. I said yes. And it wasn’t a lie. That kind of almost-but-not-really sex involved constant clitoral stimulation. I orgasmed. Twice actually. However, the partial lie ate at my conscience for a week, so I texted him: Me: Hi. U didn’t find the hole. Just FYI for future reference. I still enjoyed it. Good luck on your finals! BTW Charlie’s food truck has peanut butter fudge today. (tongue-licking emoji) “Dorothy, I’m not mad. Just surprised. You told me last month that sex was overrated, messy, and mentally exhausting. Now you’re thinking of asking a man’s ex-wife about his sexual preferences. So, take a breath, baby girl. I’m just surprised, but also happy for you. The fact that you want intimacy with him is good. Right?”

I flip around again to look at her. “Sex. Not intimacy. I just like hanging out with him. He gets me … I think. We like the same foods. We work together. We both love exercising. I mean … we follow each other’s rings now. I love that. It’s the greatest motivation. And he’s competitive too. But the sex is just getting in the way. I know he wants it. I just don’t know how he wants it. And yes, most of the time I don’t think I want sex because it usually is overrated, messy, and exhausting. But when Dr. Hawkins kisses me, I feel like the messy exhaustion could be worth it.”

Mom grimaces again. “I’m not sure what to say. Maybe you can ask him. That’s what all the experts say. Right? I mean, your dad and I don’t—”

“LALALALA …” I pinch my eyes shut and plug my ears. “I don’t want to hear this!”

I open my eyes when she kisses my forehead. “Understood. Truth be known, I don’t like to talk about sex with your dad either. You’ll figure things out with Dr. Hawkins. Stressing over the sex at this point might not be the best thing for a relationship in the early stages.” She winks and leaves my bedroom.

After trying and failing for hours to get to sleep, I text Dr. Hawkins.

Me: I should have purchased the Q7, huh?

It’s not that I expect him to answer, after all, it’s after one in the morning. I just need to find a way to figure out the sex thing. And not because I want it all the time. I simply want to be good at it in his eyes.

Dr. Hawkins: Hi

I jump when he responds so quickly.

Me: Whoops. Figured you were sleeping.

Dr. Hawkins: I don’t think you need a Q7. I think you need to call in sick tomorrow and come to brunch at my parents’ house.

“What?” I mumble, reading his text.

Me: I’m just having issues sleeping. I’m not sick.

Dr. Hawkins: Good. I’d hate for you to get my parents sick at brunch tomorrow.

I’m not tired enough to sleep, but I’m too tired to write in my journal. And here he is, texting me an invitation to eat food with his parents.

Food.

Unknown food.

Food made by other people.

Food not at one of my regular restaurants.

Me: You want me to lie?

Dr. Hawkins: I want you to meet my parents tomorrow.

Me: I have never called in sick.

Dr. Hawkins: Do it for me.

Me: I’m not good at lying.

Dr. Hawkins: Pretend you’re sick and it won’t feel like a lie. That’s what you did earlier when you tried to cancel our date. I’ll write you a doctor’s note.

Me: Really. I’m a terrible liar.

Dr. Hawkins: Text your boss, then you don’t have to say the lie aloud. It will be easier.

Me: Do you lie about being sick?

Dr. Hawkins: No. I’m a doctor. I have to work from my deathbed.

Me: I’m a patient transporter. If I don’t show up to work, who will transport YOUR patients?

Dr. Hawkins: Please (folded hands emoji) Me: (eye rolling emoji)

Dr. Hawkins: I’ll make sure everything is vegetarian. I’ll even order you a pizza or a dozen tacos from your favorite restaurant so you don’t have to eat my mom’s cooking. Which would be a shame because she’s an excellent cook. (three folded hands emojis) Dr. Hawkins is an emoji man. That makes him exponentially more attractive to me. Still … I’m not a good liar. But since it will be Sunday, maybe having four days at school before seeing my coworkers again will make it easier to deal with the guilt and not spew my confessions the second someone at work asks me if I’m feeling better.

Me: Send me the address and time. Will Romeo be there?

Dr. Hawkins: Sending … and yes, Julie will drop him off.

The next text is his parents’ address and the time: 11:00 a.m.

Drop him off. That means Dr. Hathaway will be there. Right? At least long enough to let him out of the car. Or will she walk him to the door? Come inside? Meet me?

Hi. I’m Dorothy. Does your ex-husband require anything out of the ordinary to have sex? I tried a sexy dress, stripping for him, offering both oral and vaginal sex. Not sure where I went wrong. Would you mind giving me a few tips? Oh … and I think you’re brilliant. I want to be you when I grow up. Me? Yeah, I’m thirty, but in the Aspie world that’s like twenty … so barely a grown-up.”