Boomerangers: A second chance romantic comedy (Cajun Girls Book 1)
Boomerangers: Chapter 27

Over the last month or so, it has become the new routine for Gina and Coop to join us at Momma’s for dinner on Tuesday nights. Today, I was able to duck out a little early from work to swing by the store and grab all of the fixings for Taco Tuesday. It’s not even four o’clock yet and I’ve already picked up Savage and have almost finished cooking.

Tuesdays are my new favorite day. I mean, they already freaking rocked, because . . . tacos! Add in a little quality time with my B.F.F. and Cooper and I’m on top of the freaking world.

As I’m dancing around the kitchen, belting out the lyrics to This Girl is on Fire by Alicia Keys, I see Mom and the twins pull up to the house.

“You not on fiya, Mom,” Kyle says, making a face at my screeching. “I not yike dis song.” He crosses his arms and pouts.

“Alexa,” I say while glaring at my toddler, “play the song You’re a Jerk.” Like magic, the song comes on. I still can’t get over how amazing the Amazon Echo is. Just about any song you can imagine available on voice command. What will they come up with next?

I laugh as Kyle starts singing along at the table, bobbing his head from side to side with the beat. He really is such a savage.

“What’s a dildo?” Landon asks, barging into the kitchen and tossing his twenty-pound backpack to the floor.

Hello. “Ummm,” I mumble, glancing at Kyle, who is sitting at the kitchen table coloring. “Give me a sec.”

I amble over to the living room and ask my mother to keep an eye on Kyle so that I can speak to the twins privately and then usher them up the stairs to my bedroom, locking the door behind us. “Why do you want to know what a dildo is?”

“The kids here say that a lot,” Lake replies, staring down at his feet while cracking his knuckles one by one. My shoulders tense at the sound. “We laugh because everyone else does,” he continues, “but we don’t know what it means.”

Holy crap. I’m not ready. “What do they say exactly?” I pry, not wanting to unwittingly provide any more information than absolutely necessary. Why the hell are twelve-year-old boys talking about dildos?

“I dunno,” Lake says with a nervous smile. “They just say things like ‘Go suck a dildo’ and stuff.”

Reaching over to the bedside table, I grab a small stack of paper and begin fanning myself. I feel like I’m going to vomit. “They say that, do they?” I ask, stalling for time.

Landon nods.

I can’t do it . . . “Actually, guys, I think you’re a little . . . or a lot too young for this stuff right now. Can we just revisit the question in like—” I glance down at my wrist at the watch I’m not wearing “—three years?” I plead.

Landon’s eyes roll up in his head. “Told you she wouldn’t tell us.”

Inhaling a deep breath, I take a seat on the edge of my bed. “A dildo is a fake penis,” I blurt out, feeling my cheeks flame.

The twins “oh” and “ahh” in understanding. Their world makes sense once again, which is lovely, because mine is tilting on its axis.

If I were smart, I would just drop it and send them on their merry way, but because I am a glutton for punishment, I can’t let it go. “Why are you boys telling each other to suck penises, real or otherwise, anyway? What kind of kids are you hanging around with?”

Lake sighs. “Mom . . . it’s everyone. Landon and I are so babyfied compared to the other kids here. They even watch Pornhub.” The fuck?

“Yeah, Jake said he watches it on his phone at night when he goes to sleep. I Googled it while we were at Dad’s—” he gives me a guilty look “—and found out it was people with webcams having sex,” Landon adds with a shrug.

I blanch. Oh my God. I am really going to be sick. The last time we had the sex talk was less than a year ago and they still thought it meant kissing in bed with your clothes off, under the covers. I didn’t tell them better, wanting to keep my boys innocent for as long as possible. Something tells me they aren’t quite so innocent anymore. “Do you two know what sex is?” I ask, looking around the room, anywhere but at their eyes. Trust me I know how ridiculous it must seem that I can’t make eye contact with my children when I’ve made my career discussing sex. But, talking about sex with adult strangers is completely different from talking about it with your baby boys.

“It’s when a boy puts his penis in a vagina,” Lake mutters beneath his breath.

Landon bursts into a fit of hysterics. “You are so freaking stupid,” he says, pointing at his brother. “You don’t put it in a vagina. You put it on top.” Noooo. He did not just say that.

It’s my turn to laugh. I try holding it in, but he’s so sure of himself, and he’s so wrong. When I calm down enough, I correct him. “Lake was right. You do put it inside,” I say, coughing. “But not ’til you are much older,” I add.

“But, gay people put it in a butt, right, Mom?” Lake adds, staring as he waits for confirmation.

Oh, sweet baby Jesus. What is even happening right now? “Yes,” I squeak. “Gay men have sex by sticking their penis in another man’s butt.”

Lake nods and his brows dip inward. I can actually see another question forming in his head, and I’m a bit terrified. “But, how do gay women have sex if neither of them has a penis?”

Dead silence. My mouth opens and closes. Everything I think to say sounds worse than the last. I’m not about to explain clitoral stimulation to my twelve year olds.

“Ohhhh!” Landon says, his eyes lighting up. “Is that what the dildos are for? Lesbian sex?” Thank you, son.

“Yes. That is exactly what they are for.” Please let this be the end of it.

“Okay, well, what about truffle butter? Is that real?” Landon inquires. Wow. Okay, this conversation just took a complete one-eighty. I breathe out a sigh of relief. Food is a good change of subject. I can handle food.

“I guess so . . . I think they use truffle butter in fancy restaurants on steaks.”

“Ewwww,” Lake and Landon both groan simultaneously.

Oookay . . . “Why? What do you think truffle butter is?”

Lake’s face turns beet red and Landon begins choking on his saliva.

“I told you guys that you could tell me anything. I meant it.”

“You can’t yell at us,” Lake warns, eyeing me.

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms on my chest. How bad could it possibly be? “I will not yell.” I mean, it can’t be worse than butt sex.

“Ryan told us that it’s when you stick your penis in a butt and then in a vagina and when you pull it out, it makes a buttery substance called truffle butter,” Landon answers, scrunching his nose in disgust. “Is that true?” Okay, so I was wrong. This is worse.

I stand there with my mouth agape, once again speechless. I’m fucking speechless. After sputtering wordlessly for a moment, I finally manage to screech out, “Who the hell is Ryan and where did he hear that?”

“Ryan is Dad’s neighbor’s son. He comes over to play basketball sometimes. It’s lyrics from a Nicki Minaj song. He looked it up, and that’s what it said,” Lake explains.

Landon nods. “It’s true. He showed us the Urban Dictionary on his phone. He said they make it into bars and sell it.” He gags, no doubt imagining the steak houses buying that shit up and slathering it on his filet.

What the fuck is wrong with children these days? “Your friend Ryan is a fucking idiot,” I say, seething. “The only thing you are going to get if you stick your penis in someone’s ass is a di—penis covered in shit,” I yell, feeling the burn in my cheeks, as I begin pacing back and forth in my old bedroom. “And you’ll give the girl a nasty infection . . . and probably yourself, too.”

The boys go silent for a moment before Landon asks, “So putting your penis in a butt is gay, right?”

“Yes.”

Once again I can see the hamster wheel in his brain turning. “But, what if it’s a girl butt?”

I don’t even know how to respond to this. My kid is a fucking freak! I didn’t realize the back door was even an option until I was in college and I damn near killed Tate when he tried. No one’s dick will be going anywhere near my no-no hole. “Why are you so fascinated with putting your penis in a butt, Landon? Most people don’t ever do that . . . And, anyway, you aren’t even old enough to be thinking of sex. Sex is for adults. Grown-ups. People in love.” And he’s done it . . . sent me off on a tirade. “And,” I add, opening Safari on my phone, “sex causes diseases. You can get puss-filled blisters and pee blood and, come here,” I say, motioning them both over to look at the blue waffles I’ve just pulled up on my phone.

The boys study the picture for a moment before they both start retching and move away. “Oh, Mom.” Gag. “That’s disgusting,” Landon moans.

“What the hell is that?” Lake asks.

“That is what can happen if you have sex when you aren’t mature or responsible enough to do so. You want your penises to look like that?” I ask, staring them down.

Both of their heads shake rapidly.

“Keep those things in your pants, boys, and for God’s sake, stop listening to stupid kids that don’t know what the hell they’re talking about!” I shout, opening the door. I storm out, mumbling the words “truffle butter” and shaking my head when I run right into Gina.

“Good song,” she says, straightening her top. “When’d you start listening to rap?”

“I don’t listen to that shit. Can you believe some kid told the boys that truffle butter is when you put your penis in a butt and then a vagina and it makes butter? What the hell is going on at this school?”

Gina busts out laughing as she pulls out her phone and begins pecking at it rapidly. After finding whatever it is she’s looking for, Gina holds it up to my face. The Urban Dictionary.

“Well, I’ll be damn. Those little shits just taught me something.”

“Oh, Spence. You make me laugh . . .” my best friend chimes, patting me on the back.

“I just can’t believe little kids are talking about this stuff, Gina. I’m going to have to monitor their music better . . .”

“And you’ll make them prime meat for all the little asshole kids at that school. You can’t shelter them here, Momma. You aren’t dealing with that snooty little catholic school anymore. Just be open and honest with them as much as you can. Lake and Landon are good kids. Don’t put a target on their backs.”

Gulping, I nod. She’s right. “It’s okay. I don’t think they’ll be thinking about sex any time soon.”

Gina glares at me. “What’d you do?”

I smile innocently at my best friend. “I just showed them what could happen to their penises if they have sex before they’re supposed to.” I shrug.

Her mouth falls open. “You didn’t?” She covers her mouth with both hands.

I nod. “You bet your ass I did.”

“Blue waff—” Gina can’t even finish the word waffles before she’s gagging.

“Yup. I’m thinking about framing a picture and hanging it up in their bathroom over the toilet as a reminder.”

“But, that’s a made up disease.”

“So . . .?”

She nods. “Let’s wallpaper their bathroom in it.”

Me: Have you ever heard of truffle butter?

My Knight: Been listening to Nicki, have you? I knew there was a little gangsta in you somewhere, Spence. Probably in that big ol’ booty. 😛

Me: Ha ha. You’re so funny. No, not Nicki . . . My kids.

My Knight: Did they ask you what it means?

Me: More like they’ve just educated me. I told them it was the fucking butter restaurants put on your steaks.

My Knight: You didn’t? lol

Me: Then they asked me all these questions about butt sex. It was horrible.

My Knight: God, I wish I could have seen your face. What did you tell them?

Me: I told them that most people don’t do that.

My Knight: What about you? Are you most people, Princess?

Me: What about me??? Are you asking if you can stick it in my ass?

My Knight: No, of course not. I mean, unless you are down for that kind of thing.

Me: Oh God, you’re all disgusting. The whole fucking lot of you.

My Knight: So, just to clarify . . . That was a no?

Me: Let me put it to you in words you’ll understand. I’ll chop your fucking dick off and feed it to you for dinner if you even think of putting that monster in my no-no hole.

My Knight: Understood.

Me: Good. So, what time are you coming over?

My Knight: I’m a little afraid of you right now . . .

Me: Stop. You are not.

My Knight: Leaving the office now. See you soon, Princess. And no worries . . . The virtue of your no-no hole is safe with me 😉 I’ll treat it like my dick depends on it.

“Cooper’s here,” Lake calls from the living room.

I leave Gina chopping tomatoes and grab Coop a beer from the fridge on my way to greet him.

“Hey now,” Coop says, pulling me in for a hug. “A man could get used to this!” He takes the Bud Light from my hand, kissing my forehead. “Thanks, Spence.”

“You’re welcome,” I answer, narrowing my eyes at his chauvinism.

Cooper glances around the room, making sure the coast is clear, before his hand lowers from my waist to my ass. He cups the right cheek, squeezing hard. “If you ever change your mind . . .” He trails off, chuckling as I punch him in the chest.

After dinner, Gina and I clean the kitchen while Cooper and the boys play Madden on the PlayStation. I catch myself smiling, not paying attention to a word of Gina’s gossip, as I strain to hear Cooper and my boys ragging on each other over the game. I can’t help wishing that things could be different. Cooper would have been an incredible father.

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” Gina asks, shoving my shoulder.

I frown guiltily. “Sorry, I was daydreaming.”

“About a cute little house on the lake with a white picket fence, a certain ring back on your finger, and Cooper’s cum pop between your legs every night?”

The plate I’m washing slips from my hands into the sink as I stare at her, open-mouthed.

“’Cause you can have all of that, you know?” she reminds me with a wink.

“You’re so gross.”

“I’m so right.”

“What about you?” I ask, tossing the question back into her court. “What about your fairytale and white picket fence? For someone with so much advice . . .”

Gina gets quiet and goes back to drying the dishes. “We’re not talking about me,” she eventually grumbles.

“We’re never talking about you because we’re always talking about me.”

She shrugs.

I sigh. “Are you ever going to settle down, Gi? You’d be the best mother.”

Gina rests her hands on the edge of the counter, hanging her head. I’m not sure what’s happening ’til I see the slight shuddering of her shoulders.

“Gina,” I whisper, placing a soapy hand at her back. “Gi, are you crying?” My heart sinks.

My best friend takes the towel in her hand and uses it to mop the tears from her face. Her sad green eyes look up through wet lashes, connecting with mine. “I can’t have kids,” she whispers, her lips flattening into a straight line. “And besides, that title already belongs to you.” She tries to blow off the fact that she’s just dropped a confession the equivalent of an atomic bomb in this kitchen.

Now, when I tell you this girl is my best friend, I mean she is my person—the other half to my B.F.F. heart. We know everything about each other—have shared every single moment of our lives from the time we were in kindergarten. For her to keep something this huge from me . . . I’m stunned. I experience a vast array of emotions all at once, starting with shock, betrayal, and everything in between, before finally settling on sheer devastation. “Gina?” I say, feeling my heart sink. There’s no way I’m just dropping this.

“I’ve known for years. The, umm . . .” She sniffs, wiping her nose. “The endometriosis is too bad. There’s virtually no chance, but I’m okay. I’ve come to terms with it.”

I swallow and swallow but can’t seem to remove the lump in my throat. “I can see that,” I say, watching the girl who has always been my rock fall to pieces before me.

She blows air upward, trying to dry her eyes. “I really am. I mean, as okay as a person can be with that kind of news. I have your kids, Spence, and they mean everything to me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” My voice cracks.

Gina shrugs. “I don’t know. I didn’t want you feeling sorry for me. You had a lot going on with the boys and their piece of shit fathers. It’s just something I felt like I needed to deal with on my own.”

The guilt I feel threatens to swallow me whole. I can’t believe Gina’s been dealing with this all on her own for years because my life is such a big clusterfuck that she felt like she’d be imposing. “So this is why you haven’t taken any of the guys you’ve dated seriously? Because you can’t have children?”

Gina nods. “I can’t do it, Spence,” she whispers. “I can’t allow a man to fall in love with me knowing that I could never give him a family—a baby.”

The tears just keep falling from my eyes. I want to tell her it’s okay, that any man would be lucky to have her, that they wouldn’t need anything more, but I understand how she feels. I get it, because if I were to marry Coop, that’s exactly what I’d be doing—thrusting three children he never wanted into his life and preventing him from ever finding someone who could give him the family I can’t. Sure he says he doesn’t want kids now, but that could change. So I swallow the words that are on the tip of my tongue, because Gina and I keep things real. I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close. “Now you see why I can’t marry Coop.”