“I'm eighteen! You can't tell me what to do!”
“You may be an adult, but I'm your employer, and you're fired.”
I had nothing else to argue with, so I stomped off to the room I was sharing with her oldest daughters, and I stayed there until dinnertime.
I ventured out for some food, and Carridee acted as though nothing had happened. “Kids, say goodbye to your Auntie Lexie! She's going back home tomorrow morning. Let her know how much fun you've had with her here.”
Callum, the only boy, gave me a hug. “Promise you'll come back someday.”
“I don't know if cleaning cabins is my thing,” I said, staring at Carridee.
She'd softened since our confrontation in the afternoon. “It really has been a pleasure to have you here,” she said. “I have a bit to learn with my business, and I guess I need to be less naïve, but you really have done a great job for us.”
“Thanks,” I said, and then I dug into my food.
The food wasn't even that great, but I wolfed it down like the boy, Callum, did—like I had a “hollow leg.”
I guess sex makes you hungry, I thought as a smile curled my lips.
I did return home on the bus the next morning, and in retrospect, I thank my stars did. I was only eighteen, and completely unprepared for a relationship with an older man like Smith.
I would go to college in the fall and have boyfriends. I would fall in love and have my heart broken countless ways. At times I would be jaded about love, keeping people at a distance, and other times, I'd allow them in too close, where they could hurt me.
Through my life, I've had all these wonderful memories of intimate experiences with other people. Sure, many of these experiences were about sex, but not all. Some of these memories were with friends, like the time I got a phone call in the middle of the night from Laura.
We hadn't spoken much in the eight years since high school, though we'd stayed in touch through email and such. She'd been dumped at the altar by Lars, and she was heartbroken. I could have told her about that night on the merry-go-round, and how she deserved better than a player like him, but that wasn't what she needed to hear. So, I listened as she cried and ranted and sobbed and swore, and then when she asked if she should go on her honeymoon alone, I told her she should.
After that phone call, the memory became another charm on the precious bracelet of life—something beautiful that made me who I am.
I regretted not being able to say goodbye to Smith. He went on to become Mr. Big Shot Billionaire Novelist, and there was no way I was going to stand in line at a book signing to see him. The Smith in my memory was the perfect version of him, anyway. For a few days, I worried I might be growing a little Smith inside me, but a week after losing my virginity, I got The Greatest Period Ever. Ladies, if you've been there, you know what I mean.
I'm glad I had two first times (or three, if you count other things), because each one was special in its own way—as special and unique as the people I experienced them with. Even Lars. Who was pretty amazing with his tongue. I still think about that night on the merry-go-round, in the summer rain, and the memory gives me a Mona Lisa smile.
the End