I'll Show You Mine, If You Show Me Yours

I’ll Show You Mine, If You Show Me Yours

By

L A Grow

Smashwords Edition Copyright © 2011 by L.A. Grow

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Prologue

August 1988

Hi Mrs. Banks. Can J.J. come outside and play? A scruffy little boy with shaggy, sun-streaked hair and extremely light blue eyes stands at the front door of a house.

Yes, Randy, she can, but we all call her Jesse. No one calls her J.J. The lady has a stern look on her face.

Okay, ma’am. I’ll just wait out here on the sidewalk for her. Thank you Mrs. Banks. Randy squats down on the sidewalk and appears to be looking at something through a magnifying glass.

About two minutes later a cute little girl with light brown hair done in braided pigtails bounds out of the house with a clump of pretzels in her hand.

Hi Randy! Are you frying ants again? Want some pretzels? She sticks her handful of pretzels in his face.

J.J., why are you always eating pretzels? Randy asks.

I like them. That’s why. Can I have a turn? Jesse takes the magnifying glass from his hands.

You gotta keep it there for a few minutes to really get them to sizzle. He instructs.

So, what else are we going to do? Jesse inquires.

Here, Randy stands up and offers Jesse his hand. Come with me. I have to show you something. It’s secret though, so you can’t tell anyone. He drags her through his yard and behind a big shed in the back of the house. Look! I made these earlier. He lifts a blue tarp that is covering some wood, but it is also concealing a whole arsenal of water balloons.

Wow! Cool! Jesse’s eyes get real big.

If we hang out here and wait for Brad and T-time to come out, we can bomb them with these. He smiles mischievously.

T-time’s here? I like him. He’s funny. She laughs.

He’s not that funny, and I can beat him up, you know. Randy sounds annoyed.

So, what do you want to do back here while we wait? Jesse inquires.

I don’t know. We could dig up worms or look for frogs. J.J., guess what? He looks at her with his piercing blue eyes.

What, Randy? She answers as she’s flicking dirt with her hands.

I measured my penis last night. I think it got a little bigger. Wanna see? He pulls the elastic band on his shorts and peers down them.

Okay, but I hate that word penis. It’s yucky. Can’t we call it something else? Jesse looks over as Randy pulls his shorts down.

See, don’t you think it’s bigger. He has this big smile on his face.

No, it looks the same to me, and it’s still gross. Jesse goes back to flicking dirt.

Randy pulls his pants up and shrugs, Well, I measured it, and it is bigger, and it’s not gross. It’s cool.

Randy, Bobby was picking on me earlier. He’s such a booger. Jesse says.

I told you what to do when he picks on you. I have another move to show you. Jump him from behind and then drill your knuckles into his back. He won’t like that. Here, practice on me. He turns around so his back is facing Jesse.

Jesse jumps on him and wraps her arms around him. They both start laughing and fall to the ground.

"J.J., that was a hug, not an attack.’ He looks at her.

Well, I can’t attack you. I like you. She replies.

You’re not going to get tough if you don’t practice. He informs her.

I figure you can protect me. She states and then continues, Randy?

Yeah, J.J.? He brushes dirt off her shoulder.

Do you think we’ll get married someday? She asks while flinging her pigtails back and forth.

J.J., you know you’re my best friend, but I want to marry a girl who has boobs like the ones in Brad’s magazines. He states seriously.

Randy, I’m only eight years old. I’ll have boobs someday. She pulls her shirt out and looks down it.

What if you don’t? What if you never have boobs? He questions her.

All girls have boobs, dumb-dumb. I might have really big ones, so there. She sticks her tongue out at him."

Well I guess if you have boobs, we can get married. Wait…shh…I think I hear Brad and T-time. Grab some balloons and get ready.

Randy, what if they chase us and catch me? Jesse looks scared.

J.J., if they chase us, take my hand, and I’ll pull you with me. I’m faster than both of them. Besides, J.J., I’ll protect you. I won’t let anyone get you.

Okay, Randy.

Now on the count of three, we charge with our balloons. One, two, three….

Chapter 1

2009

I’m sitting in my apartment on a very warm Friday night in July, painting my toenails, thinking of all the ways I could kill my ex. So far, the ways that involve the most blood and the most pain are the most appealing. I’m not sure where this violent streak is coming from, but it’s entertaining me. As I’m lost in my fantasy world, my cell phone rings ands snaps me back into reality. It’s my wonderful, exasperating, kind, bossy, funny, frustrating sister Elise. I don’t have the energy to talk to anyone right now, so I shut my cell phone off.

My name is Jessica Jane Banks. I am thirty years old, recently single, and think I’m heading towards a mid-life crisis. I’m not quite old enough for that, but I don’t know what else to call my state of being. Maybe I’m just crazy.

One week ago today I walked in on my boyfriend of two years sitting on his couch getting a lap dance by his neighbor who was naked at the time. Since then I have changed my hair color from blonde to red, painted every room in my house, joined a pole dancing class, and have decided to quit my very good job.

The hair color thing has been a long time coming. I’m naturally a very boring brown, so I just spiced up the brown with a little bit of dangerous red. The rooms in my house needed painting anyways. It’s just that the colors I picked were spontaneous and reflective of my mood at the time. My bedroom is deep, dark red, my bathroom is a strong golden yellow, and my living room is burnt orange. I believe I was thinking a lot of fire at the time. Setting my boyfriend’s apartment on fire is one of the ways that I could procure his untimely death. The pole dancing thing—I just figured, why not? Now that I’m single it might come in handy. Dancing seems to be working well for Joe’s neighbor.

The quitting of the job actually has been weighing on my mind for a long time now. It hasn’t been an easy decision, but I have made it and am going to do it. I am a teacher. I teach seventh grade English. Actually the correct terminology today is Language Arts. I went to college to be a teacher, because at the time it seemed like a good idea. Being a teacher is a great profession if you are married and have children. I have neither of those, and the past few years my heart just hasn’t been in it. I have some money saved that I can afford to do this now. I figure I could always go back if things don’t work out.

The things that I’m talking about working out—I’m not exactly sure what they are. I just know that right now I can not diagram another sentence, grade one more test, or be back talked to by a twelve year old.

The hardest part of the quitting of the job is going to be telling my family. My parents are going to go nuts. My mom will blame the break up with Joe for my insanity, and my dad will feel the way my mom wants him to feel. I will be forced to listen to hours of parental lectures. My mom and dad have always been great parents, but my mom will still call me to make sure that I am dressing warm on cold days. She can be a bit overbearing and opinionated at times. My dad is very laid back and agrees with everything she says or does. I think he learned to do that early on. It makes life a lot easier when you agree with my mom.

I have an older brother Bobby. He won’t care what I do as long as it doesn’t affect him. Bobby is a lawyer and is married to Carrie. They have three wonderful children—Jennifer,12, Nikole, 8, and Bobby Jr., 3. They appear to live the perfect life. They have a beautiful house, their kids are gorgeous and always well-behaved, and they appear to really like each other. It irritates my sister and I to no end. Bobby has always been very private and still is. We don’t know anything that goes on with Bobby and his family other than the fact that they always look good.

My sister Elise is the oldest of us. She’s a completely different story from Bobby. Her chaotic life is an open book. She is married to Steve Baker. They have three boys—Joey, 11, Austin, 9, and Jack,6. I like to go over to Elise’s house a lot. It really makes me appreciate that I am single with no children. They should make high school students with raging hormones live in my sister’s house for a few days. Elise’s family is a form of birth control for anyone with half a brain.

Don’t get me wrong, I absolutely adore my nephews, and Elise is my very best friend. I even love Steve, although our relationship is more of a love/hate thing. I tell Elise all the time that they ought to be a reality show. It is never quiet or calm in their house. My nephews like to beat on each other round the clock. They drive Elise crazy, but she does have this amazing ability to tune out all the yelling and the fighting.

I live in a town called Lotus, Pennsylvania. I lived here all my life except for the four years that I went away to college. To be honest I never thought that I would live in Lotus after college. I thought I was going to be some kind of world traveler. When I got my teaching job in Lotus, I had no choice but to move back here. As I age and mature I have discovered that it’s a really nice place to live. I bought my little house about three years ago. There’s an old Lotus and a new Lotus. The old Lotus are the houses that were built thirty or more years ago. New Lotus are all the houses that have been thrown up in recent years. My house is in old Lotus. It’s a small one story with two bedrooms. It has a cute little front porch which I love, and the backyard is small, but just right for me. Being that I’m in the old section, the street is tree lined and quaint. I do love my little abode because it’s all mine.

My parents also live in old Lotus. We grew up in a small ranch style house with three bedrooms. As a child I didn’t know that it was a small house. Elise and I shared a room and Bobby had his own. My parents have added an addition out the back to accommodate their growing family. Without that addition I don’t think we all would fit in the house on holidays.

Elise lives in new Lotus. Her house is very nice with lots of room. They also have a big yard with a pool. I love that pool and use it as much as I can. Elise would like to work, but she really doesn’t have to. Steve owns his own residential electrical company, and he does very well. Baker Electric does the work for almost everyone in Lotus. As much as I make fun of Steve, he started with nothing and has worked hard for everything they have.

***

As my toenails are drying, I get up to get myself a beer and some pretzels. Pretzels are my absolute favorite food—those and pizza. I much prefer salt to sugar. If I don’t stop myself, I could easily eat a bag of pretzels in one sitting. I could eat pizza for every meal. I never get sick of it.

On my way back to the couch, there is a pounding on my door. And I do mean pounding. I guess I better answer it, so I stroll over to the door and see my sister’s head peering through the windows on the side of the door. I open the door and she’s standing there with this frazzled look on her face. Actually she always has a frazzled look on her face.

Why aren’t you answering your phone? she yells.

Because I don’t want to talk to anyone! I say with a smile.

Are you going out? It’s Friday night.

Do I look like I am going out? And I know what day it is! Why are you here and not at the zoo you call a home? I ask.

My sister and I always go back and forth like this. She pushes her way into the house and proceeds straight into the kitchen.

I was worried when you didn’t answer, and plus I needed an excuse to get out of the zoo for a bit. She admits.

The animals going crazy tonight? I raise my eyebrows at her.

She starts going through my cabinets.

Do you have some chocolate? I need some chocolate.

You have known me for thirty years, and you know I don’t care that much for chocolate. I like pretzels.

She slams her fist on my counter and yells, First of all it’s not natural for a female to not like chocolate. Second of all pretzels are boring! Do you have any brownie mix? I can make those so I can eat the batter.

OK what’s wrong? I ask. Brownies in Elise’s house are usually a sign that she’s upset. She loves the batter, so she always leaves just enough in the mixing bowl to make her happy. When we were growing up, brownies were a rare treat. In Elise’s house they are a part of the regular diet. They have them about once a week.

Nothing and everything. Elise answers me with tears in her eyes. Being with the boys round the clock in the summertime is exhausting. The constant bickering and pummeling pushes me closer to the brink of insanity every day. I guess I’m just feeling sorry for myself. With Jack going to school all day in September, I feel like I need to do something. But what do I do is the big question.

Well the good news for you is that you’ll be able to spend a lot more time with me. I answer.

What’s that supposed to mean? You have school. She states glaringly. I really can’t stand when she uses her mother faces on me. She has a whole collection of them. I think I am a recipient of these faces as much as her kids. Sometimes the kids and I make these faces to each other. She can’t stand that.

Yeah, about that. I kind of took early retirement from teaching. I confess.

What do you mean you took early retirement? she screams at me.

I reveal all my feelings to her and tell her that this is a long time coming. She says she wants me to be happy and will support me, but is still worried about me.

Look, I say, I am going to find something else. I just want to like what I do, not dread it.

Okay, but can I be there when you tell mom and dad? I just love when someone is in trouble with them, and it’s not me. Normally it’s me who is in the doghouse. Oh this one will definitely keep mom off my back for a long time. She’s going on and on and laughing at the same time.

I ask if she wants to stay awhile and watch some bad TV with me, but she says she needs to get back to the animals. Elise really does pamper the boys and Steve, too. They don’t know what to do without her. Steve could be in the kitchen with the boys and Elise upstairs in the shower, and one of the boys will go up to her bathroom and ask her to get him a drink.

I’m pretty sure that Steve is completely ignoring the fact that he has three children right now, He is addicted to a war game on the Wii, and it’s all he wants to do. He fights with the boys for the Wii, and they come crying to me that he won’t get off it. He thinks he’s some kind of war general. She states matter-of-fact.

Wow! Okay, well tell Steve that I say that he’s a big loser! I laugh.

She replies, I’m pretty sure he won’t care, but I’ll tell him.

Alright. Good. Now don’t forget that I am taking my Little Jacky out tomorrow. I’ll pick him up around 11:30. We’re going for lunch, to the movies, and then possibly for ice cream. Tell him Aunt Jesse is really looking forward to our special day. I respond.

Whenever one of my nieces or nephews has a birthday, I spend the day with her or him. I really enjoy the one on one time with them. I love all my nieces and nephews the same, but I have to admit that I have a special affinity for Jack. I call him my Little Jacky. He is a funny little man in a six year old’s body. His birthday was over a week ago, but this is the first I could take him. I’m really looking forward to it. He always makes me laugh.

Elise hugs me and says, I love you Jess! I’ll see you tomorrow. And…I’m really proud of you. You didn’t mention Joe’s name once.

Joe who? I retort, and she laughs.

After she’s gone I settle in with my pretzels and some reality television. I believe reality TV is medicine for the soul. At least for me it is. It helps me realize how much I have it together compared to these nutcases.

Chapter 2

I wake up the next morning really refreshed. I pour myself a big bowl of Fruit Loops. I eat Fruit Loops every morning. They make me feel like a kid. I grab my cell phone and realize I never turned it back on last night. I turn it on and see that I have three missed calls and three voice mails. Surprise, surprise all three calls are from Joe. They were made at 2, 2:30, and 3am. I’m relieved that phone was off, so I didn’t have to deal with him. There was a repetition of I miss you and I’m sorry. Can we talk? No doubt he was drunk. I guess the lap dancer wasn’t available.

I delete his messages and go into my room to find something to wear to my pole dancing class. It’s from 9-10, and it’s my first class. I’m not really sure what to wear. I’m fairly certain no one will be on sweat pants. Sweat pants and pole dancing don’t really go together. I don’t really have any cute workout clothes, so I settle on shorts and a tight tank top.

I found out about this class from a girl I taught with. She says it is a lot of fun and is good exercise. I could use both of those. It’s located in a dance studio about fifteen minutes from my house. I throw my hair up in a ponytail, put on my sneakers, and head out.

I have to admit I’m a little bit nervous. I’m not sure what kind of crowd takes pole dancing class. I’m not the most flexible person ever. However, on a good day I can still do a split. I don’t really need to lose much weight—maybe 5 pounds. I’ve always been thin. I must have a good metabolism. Elise frequently curses me out for these things. I don’t usually watch what I eat either, I guess I would consider myself attractive. I have great hair. It’s really thick with a natural curl, but I do straighten it at times. I guess my greatest attribute is my legs. They’re very long. I’m about 5’8’’, but most of that is leg.

I pull into the parking lot of the studio. After a minute of stalling time, I take a deep breath and get out. Here goes nothing I mutter to myself.

When I go inside there’s females everywhere, some young, some old. I ask where my class is and am directed to a closed door down the hall. I rush down the hall and pull open the door. I stand in the doorway with all eyes on me. I realize it’s to late to bolt. I step inside and say hello. I am the only person in shorts and sneakers. All the other women are in these pretty workout clothes. Some have on boy shorts and colorful bra like tops, and some have on tights and leotards with a thong in them. Absolutely all of these women have super cleavage and high heeled stripper shoes. Great! I stick out like a sore thumb.

The teacher rushes over to me and welcomes me to the class. Her name is Renata. She is Latino and looks as if she were put together just to make men happy. She introduces me to the other women. There’s about twelve of us. I notice three of them are probably in their fifties. They’re laughing with each other and all look fantastic.

As I am scanning this group of gorgeous bodies, my eyes fall upon someone familiar. Oh my God! It’s Joe’s neighbor Katrina—the naked lap dancer. Her eyes connect with mine also, and she puts her head down.

Now I start talking to myself in my head. I always do that when I am stressed. I’m saying things like, Don’t make a scene and Be the bigger person. Then I remind myself that literally I am the bigger person in every area but the boobs. Okay, so Katrina is a picture of female perfection, but I am going to try to pretend that she is not here.

I walk over to an empty pole and stand next to it. It’s the furthest away from Katrina that I could find. Renata comes over to me and explains what goes on in the class. She tells me that I do not have to wear high heels. The others do it because they think it’s fun and it makes them feel sexier. I would need a lot more than heels to make me feel sexier among this group. I am silently cursing myself inside my head for taking this class in the first place. I think a square dancing class might be more my speed.

Renata puts on some music and begins class. The first twenty minutes are spent stretching. I’m fine with that, but that’s where my comfortableness ends. She changes the music to something fast and hot. She begins gyrating around the pole, and everyone is imitating her. Just do it I tell myself. She starts throwing in some kicks and throwing herself around the pole in a way that I did not think was possible. Even the ladies in their fifties are doing it. Of course, Katrina is almost as good as Renata. Everyone is really into it. I am trying to go with the flow, but I am very self conscious.

No one seems to be paying much attention to me so I figure I may as well go for it. I start throwing parts of my body around that I didn’t know I could throw around. I’m starting to think that this