“Why?” Talia asked, face puckering at the thought.
“I just want to hear you say it.” Doris nodded to encourage her.
“Sticky dick,” Talia whispered to avoid being overheard. People came to coffee shops to enjoy their coffee, not hear vulgarity from her.
Doris erupted in giggles. “It’s fun, right? Sticky dick.” Doris repeated, creating a little rhyme she found hilarious.
“You are such a kid sometimes.” Talia playfully rolled her eyes and shook her head. Convincing Doris otherwise was hopeless.
“It does have a ring to it.” Emily offered, blowing at her still-steaming cuppa coffee.
“Okay, but that doesn’t change the fact that some guy is going to have an awful night because he sent a message to the wrong number. And that’s on you, Doris. I never would have responded.” Talia sucked on an empty honey straw, thinking. If it wasn’t for her current company, the poor schmuck wouldn’t be searching his cabinets for peanut butter right now. Maybe it was karma that made the text appear on the phone the same time Doris was scrolling Talia’s henna Pinterest page. A coincidence that started a chain of events that led to her friends composing the most inappropriate messages that had ever appeared on her phone. Maybe the schmuck deserved it.
“What would you have done?” Emily asked.
“I don’t know. Ignored it. Blocked the number.” Talia could list plenty of responses that were better than the texts her friends had sent.
“That’s no fun.” Doris was annoyed.
“I don’t text like that.”
“It’s called sexting,” Emily corrected.
“I definitely don’t do that, either.” Talia’s eyes went wide and she shook her head. Between her part-time jobs and school, there hadn’t been time for extracurriculars in her life. Certainly not sexting.
“I don’t know, girl. This dress…” Emily leaned away from her coffee and up-downed Talia. “You look like you could be naughty. If you wanted to.” Emily winked at her.
Talia didn’t answer, turning to her tea for cover. Her friend wasn’t wrong. There was a growing part of Talia that wanted to be bad. While every one of her classmates seemed to be busy getting busy, she’d been busy as a bee. There were only so many hours in a day.
Life, and her urges, were different now. The new urge she felt was getting too large to ignore. But she had naughty thoughts only for a certain someone. Not a random someone on the other end of a sext who couldn’t even get a freakin’ phone number right. How intimate was that?
Talia checked the time. It didn’t look like anyone else was going to show for Doris’s book club. In fairness, had she spent only about a day recruiting members, and few people had social calendars as empty as Talia’s. Across the table, Doris checked the time, too, looked at the empty seats beside her, and pursed her lips together to hide the disappointment she was obviously feeling. Talia felt for her. Doris wasn’t a planner, but she’d been excited to start the book club. If it eased her friend’s frustration, Talia could be the butt of a couple jokes.
“I could certainly be naughty.” Talia waggled her brow, thinking it made her look seductive. Mysterious. Maybe? “But if I sent a text like that, it certainly wouldn’t be in the middle of a busy coffee shop. What’s the point of that?” She gave a shrug that dared her friends to challenge her. Talia had zero experience with sexting but that didn’t make her totally inept. She had devoured the Fifty Shades series and she was infinitely teachable.
“Gurl…” Doris’s mock shock faded into appreciation, and any disappointment she was hiding vanished along with it.
“Touché,” offered Emily with a smug look that suggested she knew Talia had it somewhere in her.
“So, what do you guys think of Isadora?” Talia asked, changing the subject. “Would some naughty sexting have kept her from cheating on her husband?” Hoping to avoid the elephant, Talia decided to jump into the book discussion.
“Wait…it’s her second husband, right?” Emily asked.
“Twenty-three and divorced. Can you imagine what life was like for women back then? So repressed.” Emily leaned over the table and flipped through her copy of Fear of Flying.
Talia shifted in her seat. Tucking her hair behind her ear and pretending to study the pages. Twenty-three and already divorced. The comment echoed in her head. Last night, a quick Goodreads search revealed that Isadora had been both praised and panned. It was the criticisms that stayed with Talia. Branded a harlot and whore. Judged for her promiscuity and her desperate need for a man. Was she weak or just confused? Reading the reproaches pissed Talia off. Who were these readers to judge what Isadora’s life was really like?
“I would argue that cheating, and marriage, for that matter, are terms that hold different meanings for Isadora. She comes from a society where marriage is ‘revered.’ ” Talia put air quotes around the last word before continuing. “But she doesn’t have the same ideas. She’s going with what feels natural and right to her. They don’t fit with the broader beliefs of society at that time, but that doesn’t make her actions wrong for her.” Talia shifted in her seat again, sitting up straighter. “You can’t accurately judge someone unless you’re in their shoes. Few know what it feels like to be in a toxic marriage. And those who do know what it feels like would never judge someone for trying to get the hell out of it.” Talia stopped and took a deep breath, realizing too late that she had allowed the old anger to seep back in, stiffening her body, punctuating her words.
Deep lines cut across Doris’s brow. Her mouth opened to speak, but nothing came out. Instead, she paused, thought, and then nodded slowly. In the years they’d known each other Talia had never talked about relationships with such emotion. With good reason.
Emily, who hadn’t known her long at all, cleared her throat. “I agree. She’s our age.” Her hand waved between herself and Talia. “Mistakes are easy when you’re young. Hell, I’m still making them. Sometimes that’s what it takes to find what satisfies you. And life is too short to settle for anything less. If Isadora prefers an impotent, hairy Englishman to her intellectual, hairless, hard-as-a-rock husband, that’s fine. I’ll take Bennett off her hands.” Emily winked and nudged Talia.
“Right? I don’t see the appeal of Adrian either.” Talia wrinkled her nose, forcing herself to lighten up.
“Which proves your point, Talia. Compared side by side, almost everyone would choose Bennett. But Adrian awakens something deeper in Isadora. He provides a safe level of danger that she craves in her life. Bennett is safe. Adrian is adventure. Everything she’s not supposed to want but finds herself desperate to experience. He’s taboo. Off-limits. You aren’t expected to understand other people’s secret desires. They’re too complex. But they aren’t that for them.”