Totally and Completely Fine(39)

“Hi, Mrs. P!”

Everything about Eve was an exclamation point.

“What are you girls up to?” I asked, washing my hands in the sink.

“Homework,” Lena said, making it clear that she didn’t want me asking any more questions.

I was certain she’d only come into the kitchen to scrounge for something to snack on.

“There are some blondies in the freezer,” I said.

Lena didn’t move.

I knew it was because of the pizza dough that was shoved way in the back. The last time she’d gone looking for something—ice pops or ice cream—she’d started sobbing uncontrollably at the sight of it—of Spencer’s handwriting listing the date it had been made. Forever ago.

Now she avoided the freezer as much as possible.

I opened the bottom drawer and pulled out the bag of blondies. I avoided looking at the pizza dough as well.

“Here you go,” I said.

“Thanks, Mrs. P!” Eve said, taking them from me, and unwrapping them.

She knew the drill—thirty seconds in the microwave and they’d be just as gooey and fresh as when I pulled them from the oven.

“Milk?” I asked but pulled it out before they could respond.

Because of course milk.

“You guys want to do your homework in here?” I asked.

Lena shook her head, but it was too late.

“Okay!” Eve said. “Can we play music?”

“Sure,” I said.

I was playing dirty, and I knew it. I also didn’t care. If blondies and blasting show tunes was the way I spent more time with my daughter, I’d offer them always.

The girls put their books on the counter. Health.

Fuck.

I’d told myself I’d have the sex talk with Lena, but I hadn’t. It definitely wasn’t because I kept thinking about Ben and how his texts had abruptly stopped. We’d been having fun, hadn’t we? It didn’t matter, though.

I certainly wasn’t obsessing about how he’d finally moved on and was probably spending his time with some sweet new thing. It had barely been a week, but I knew how these things were in Hollywood. I kept telling myself it was for the best and had managed to keep myself from looking at our text log to see where it had gone wrong. My self-control astonished me.

After all, there was a first time for everything.

Things had been busy and complicated lately. My brain had been scrambled up in a dozen different things that needed doing. That was my excuse in regard to the sex ed conversation. Plus, I was pretty sure my brain kept pushing it out of memory’s reach because it was a conversation I really, really didn’t want to have.

“What are you guys learning about?” I asked.

Maybe they were getting all they needed from school.

Lena grimaced, and I looked at Eve.

“Just stuff!” she said.

“Sex ed stuff?” I asked.

“Mom!” Lena looked horrified.

“Sorry, sorry,” I said. “I was just curious if they’re teaching you about all that.”

All that.

“I mean sex,” I said.

I should have rehearsed or written something down, but that had never been my style. I was not a measure twice, cut once kind of person. I was a measure maybe, swear twice, cut again. And again. And again.

Lena both blushed and blanched at the same time—two round spots of red across her cheeks, standing out against the rest of her pale skin. I was a little surprised that she didn’t completely bolt from the room. I was a little surprised I didn’t bolt from the room.

Eve, on the other hand, looked interested.

Something I hadn’t thought about.

I cleared my throat.

“Eve, this is probably a conversation you should have with your mother,” I said.

“She won’t mind,” she said. “She’s from Portland.”

I had no idea how that was relevant.

Then again, I didn’t know how this conversation was supposed to go. I’d learned most of the basics of sex from erotic magazines that had always been stashed in a tree trunk in the overgrown park near our house.

They hadn’t been especially accurate. After that, I’d just learned from experience.

Too much experience as some people in our town might have said.

People who had too much time on their hands.

“Sex,” I started again.

Lena recoiled. Eve leaned forward.

“Is natural,” I said.

“Ew,” Lena said.

Even though this was probably the one time when Spencer’s presence would have made things worse—thanks mostly to the purity culture shit that he’d struggled his whole life to deal with—I still couldn’t help wishing that he were here.

At least to just hold my hand.

I missed holding his hand.

I took a deep breath.

“We should have talked about this earlier,” I said.

Lena’s face wrinkled into an expression of total disgust.

“It’s important that we talk about it,” I said.

“Whatever,” Lena said. “I already know about the birds and the bees.”

“No,” I said. “We’re not going to talk about it like that. No euphemisms. Real words. Penis. Vagina. Vulva.”