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him to the weekly gathering of my friends. That way, it’ll be clear it’s not a date.”
    “But you’re hesitating?”
    “Invite me and I’ll distract him for you,” Suzie said, twitching her eyebrows.
    “Yes, I’m hesitating. My friends are my world, and I have a real safety and comfort with them. Really, they’re my family, other than my aunt. What if they like him and I don’t? I know I’m judging him based on his size and his scowl—”
    “Which is just like men judging you based on your rack,” Charmaine shot back.
    “Or women, as in your case,” I countered, staring back at her.
    “Touché,” she capitulated.
    “There’s also this unnerving feeling when he’s around. Part of me wants to run toward it, but mostly I just want to hide from it.”
    “What is the feeling?” Ann asked.
    I closed my eyes to allow myself to feel the sensation. “Vulnerable. Like my normal defenses aren’t there to protect me.”
    “I can see why you would be hesitant,” Ann said. “My gut tells me this might be a growth opportunity for you: balancing openness while taking care of yourself.”
    “I guess we’ll see.”
    I half listened to the rest of the shares and discussion. The other half of me dissected every moment of my interaction with Tate, as if I could discern something that would put me at ease instead of feeling like a young, scared girl. Nothing became clear and if anything, I felt even more confused. Not having control over my body’s desires around him put me on edge. The fact that he had zero response to me in that way just pissed me off.
    ♥♥♥♥♥
    On my way to my mother’s house, I stopped by Publix and picked up some dessert. My angst had shifted from Tate to meeting my mother’s boyfriend. Of boyfriends past, Trey had been the worst. I still lived at home at the time and at every chance, he cornered and groped me. His dirty smirk still visits my dreams on the odd occasion. I told my mother about him, and she insisted I was jealous of her and was trying to sabotage “the best thing that ever happened to her.” I stayed away from the house as much as possible, bathroom and bedroom doors always locked when home. Fortunately, for us both, she kicked him out a few months later.
    Knocking on my mom’s front door, my heart pounded.
    A man, I guessed to be in his mid-fifties, answered the door. “You must be Jude, I’m Daniel,” he said, extending his hand right out to me and taking the dessert in the other.
    Clasping it in return, I took in the man before me. He looked nothing like my mother’s usual fare. He wore khakis and a short-sleeved, collared polo, shirt. His salt-and-pepper hair was short and neat. His pale blue eyes stayed focused on my face.
    “Nice to meet you,” I said. Glancing over his shoulder, I took in the house where I had spent my childhood. Unchanged as ever, I recognized the pale blue walls and the southern knickknacks my mother so loved, lining all available surfaces. Time travel might not exist, but it sure felt like it did when I came back home.
    Peeking up, I saw my mother waiting for me. I approached her with my arms open, and she embraced me in a tight hug. “He’s different,” I whispered. She, too, seemed different. Gone were the tight jeans and low-cut blouse. The flowery dress gave her an understated sexiness. “You look wonderful, Mom.”
    “You? What’s with the baggy clothes, Jude?” She tugged on my shirt.
    Ignoring her I asked, “So Daniel, what do you do?”
    “Whatever the hell I want,” he responded, a huge smile breaking over his face. I liked him instantly. “I’m retired and love to travel, read, dance, and do anything on the water.”
    “Sounds like a good life.” I followed my mother into the kitchen, Daniel trailing behind us.
    Bagels and all the fixings covered the table. I made myself a plate, spreading cream cheese over an onion bagel, topping it with smoked salmon and tomato. “Mom, how’s Helena? I haven’t heard