All Grown Up - Vi Keeland Page 0,3
it. Underneath it, she’d captioned: Not afraid to fly.
The second picture was taken at Ryan’s high school graduation. I was wearing a black and white floral sundress with a halter top that made my boobs look bigger than they are. I had on a wide-brimmed, white sun hat. It had been windy that day, so I was holding the rim of the hat down, and it covered almost all of my face—except my lips. The only thing you could see was bright red lipstick on an ear-to-ear smile. The caption on that one read: This is me being a proud mom.
The last shot was a picture of Eve and me in high school. It must have been taken in 9th or 10th grade, seeing as I wasn’t pregnant yet. We had our arms around each other and wore matching outfits. Underneath that one she had written: Same best friend for more than twenty years.
After editing out some of the crazy Eve had imparted into my profile, I left it set to private. I walked to the fridge and poured myself a third glass of wine. As I shut the door, a magnet tumbled to the floor. The piece of paper it had been holding floated through the air and landed at my feet. I picked it up and read a little. Eve had made the list during one of our movie nights a few weeks ago. The title was written in bold strokes and underlined: Val’s My Turn List. The first few entries were in her handwriting. They started innocently enough…
Become a teacher
Visit Rome
Plant a giant garden with only flowers
Take dance lessons
Go to prom
Learn to surf
Go to a music festival
Leave my Christmas tree up until March
Get a pug
These were all things I’d wanted to do, but Ryan had been against—going back to school, traveling to Europe, planting a garden for no reason other than to smell flowers, getting a dog. We’d had a garden in our yard, but my ex-husband had filled it with vegetables. He’d thought planting flowers where no one could see them was a waste. And the tree—I loved having my Christmas tree up. There’s just something about coming down the stairs in the morning when it’s still dark, and the tree lighting up the living room. But Ryan hated decorations—he called them clutter and always insisted our tree come down on December 26th. If it were my choice, I’d keep it up year-round. I’d also wanted a dog, a pug, to be specific. But Ryan claimed they made him sneeze, even though we had plenty of friends with dogs, and he seemed fine at their houses.
Over the years of my marriage, I’d let my wants take a backseat to everything else. And that had been the point of the list Eve had started for me—it was my choice now. My turn.
While the first nine or so items on the list were harmless, things had become much more interesting as the evening went on—and we finished the second bottle of wine.
Wear sexy lingerie under my clothes for no reason
Date seven men in seven nights
Have sex in a public place where I might get caught
One-night stand—no names exchanged
Anal sex
Threesome had been crossed out after Eve and I debated the merits for a while.
I folded the piece of paper and tucked it into my purse. This was the last thing I wanted my son to find when he finally came home this summer. Taking my filled wine glass back to the couch with my laptop, I sat staring at the screen for a while. Match.com. I sipped and flipped through the photos Eve had posted. You really couldn’t see my face in any of them—no one would have to know if I just went online and checked things out. And I suppose if half of the things on my My Turn list were going to get done, I’d need to start with a date.
I wasn’t sure if it was the reminder from the list of all the things I hadn’t done, or maybe the wine. Or maybe…just maybe, it was time. But I did something I never thought I would do…I hit public on my profile.
Screw it. It’s my turn.
Chapter 2
* * *
Ford
My assistant had a mighty fine ass.
“How the fuck do you get any work done around here?” Logan’s head turned to follow Esmée as she walked out of my office. Her hips swayed from side to side, and my friend’s head synchronized perfectly.
I couldn’t blame him. The