The Secret Desires of a Soccer Mom Read Online Free PDF Page B

rapt attention. Carly broke the nanosecond of uncomfortable
silence. “Well, that’s great, Paige. Good for you. Sex is a really important
part of a relationship.”
    “Well… umm… I guess...” I shrugged.
    Carly stood up. “I think I’ll go see how Becca’s making out
with all your little monkeys,” she said brightly. “It’s just so nice to be able
to spend some time with them.”
    When she had gone downstairs, Karen said sadly, “It’s still
hard for her.”
    “What?” I asked, through a delicious mouthful. Carly was
always eager to help out with the children. I hadn’t noticed anything odd in
her departure.
    Trudy elaborated. “The kind of pain and betrayal she
suffered when Brian left… You do not get over that easily.”
    “You’re kidding, right?” Jane asked. “She didn’t leave because
we were talking about sex, did she?”
    “No, I think she just wanted to spend some time with the
kids,” I said, swallowing the remnants of cinnamon bun.
    Trudy disagreed. “Sex is still somewhat of an uncomfortable
topic for Carly.”
    “It’s been two years!” Jane cried. “It’s not like everyone
else has stopped doing it, just because she has!”
    “A little compassion would be nice,” Karen said, pointedly.
“Carly was devastated when Brian left.”
    “Okay, I’m sorry. But since she’s not here… How’s the
baby-making going?”
    Karen’s composure was flawless. “We’re cautiously
optimistic. I’ve been seeing an acupuncturist, so… hopefully…”
    Trudy commented. “A woman I know through Emily’s music
lessons has been undergoing IVF. The procedure’s been meeting with more and
more success these days.”
    “Maybe…,” Karen said. “I’m not sure I’m ready to take that
step yet.”
    A lumbering noise on the basement stairs signaled that the
children had decided it was snack time. Trudy jumped up, as if relieved. “Who
wants a fresh homemade cinnamon bun?” All the children jumped up and down with
anticipation, except my two. Chloe was too cool to jump. Spencer had a
question.
    “Umm… do they have raisins in them?”
    “They do, sweetie,” Trudy replied.
    “I’m allergic to raisins.”
    “You’re not allergic, Spencer,” I said.
    “I am!” he insisted. “If I eat one, I’ll get bumps on me and
my tongue will explode.”
    “That won’t happen.”
    “Well, we don’t want to take that chance, now, do we?” Trudy
placated. “Would you prefer a homemade chocolate chip cookie?”
    “Yes, please!”
    “Auntie Paige?” Cameron was standing beside me.
    “Yes, dear?” I forced a smile of fondness. Trudy’s children
addressed us all as ‘auntie’ which made me feel even more guilty for despising
them. At least he hadn’t called me “uncle”.
    “Spencer said that sometimes he touches his butt-hole.”
    “Spencer!” I growled. He turned to me, his hand poised above
the blue floral cookie tin Trudy was proffering. “What did I say about that
kind of language?”
    “What? It’s not a body function. It’s a body part. And
sometimes I touch it, okay? Jeez.”
    “Ewwwwwwwww!” the kids chorused. I think Jane may have
joined in, just a little.
    Trudy pulled the tin away. “Maybe you should go wash your
hands, Spencer?”
    “You are so disgusting!” Chloe shrieked.
    “Go wash your hands Spencer,” I echoed, my face turning
crimson.
    “What’s the big deal?” He huffed, as he headed to the
washroom. “It’s a part of my body.”
    “Ewwww! It’s where poo and farts come out!!” Emily tittered.
    “Emily!” Trudy whirled on her. “We DO NOT use that kind of
language in this house!”
    “But mom,” she whined. “Cameron said butt-hole.”
    “Cameron was just repeating what Spencer said,” Trudy
expounded. “You know better than to say that yucky word. Go get one of your
toys to put in the naughty-word box.”
    Emily sniffled a little, but obediently headed to the play
room. Trudy disappeared into the pantry, soon returning with a