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Slice 192 of 365

I am doing the cliché thing today and writing in a coffee shop. Book writing after this, bagel and caramel mocha (skinny) at hand.Earbuds in place and my phone on Spotify.

Working with a friend on the cover art for Jersey Justice. I’m over 50 pages in on the new book, Jersey Jezabel, so I thought I would make today a bit easier on myself (besides I have to learn to, and accept marketing myself at some point) and give you a taste. Hope you enjoy!

This is a small excerpt from chapter 1:

It was Saturday and moving day. Hard for me to complain about the weather with the moving job to do. We’d loaded up the truck early this morning. Carmen, Sonny, Marci and myself, along with Mom, and drove up to Hillsdale.

With big Sonny around, lugging furniture was a pleasure. He and Carmen had spent the better part of the last two months getting to know each other inside and out, literally.

Marci and I did a lot of talking over those months too. It wasn’t that we didn’t want to be together, but we wanted to err on the side of caution, OK maybe more sanity but caution too. As a couple we tended to drive each other crazy, and that did not bode well for anybody.

We weren’t calling it quits, we were just taking it as it came. We weren’t a couple but nudity still played a major role in our lives, and there were still all kinds of mixed up feelings that may or may not ever come together.

Neither of us was seeing anybody else, but the option was there. It was complicated, like Ross and Rachel complicated.

The truck was almost unloaded, and it was getting close to time for Mom to unleash her one-woman intervention on her youngest child.

I eyed my mother and she gave me a knowing nod along with a small sigh. I didn’t know exactly what she was thinking, but I could guess.

“Carmen,” my Mom called out.

No answer.

She tried again a little louder. “Carm!”

Still no answer.

“Do you see her?” she asked out loud.

Marci and I both looked around, no sign of her.

“I don’t see Sonny either,” I said.

My Mom started walking up the ramp for the truck when I heard it. At that Moment I wished my Mom heard a bit better. Marci started to giggle, I almost did too, but I cringed instead. Mom was slow, but she was already too close for me to close the gap and save her from the imminent sight she was about to view.

Two short seconds later I expected a scream instead Mom came walking down the ramp as if all was normal and said in passing, “I’ll talk to her when they’re done screwing.” She continued on into the house. Marci and I looked at each other and broke down laughing and collapsed on the couch, which was still on the sidewalk.

Almost 15 minutes later, way to go Sonny, the winners of the subtle couple of the year award finally exited their mobile love shack.

Hair askew, breathing heavy and clothes inside out, Carmen asked, “Did Mom walk in the truck?”

Marci and I lost it again. I listened to her laugh. It made me happy. How could somebody make me so happy and so crazy at the same time?

Mom called out the front door switching my gears. “Cold cuts are out get your butts in here.” She then clarified with a small zinger. “Your clothed butts…”

Sonny went completely red, I mean lobster red, in an instant. Mom had taken an instant liking to Sonny and thought he was great for Carmen, but she tended to tease the crap out of him because it was easy and she loved it. I wonder where I got it from.

“Mom!” Carmen shouted in protest, but she was already back inside. For a larger woman she could move pretty damn quickly.

We meandered inside with Sonny taking up the rear, head down.

Reaching the dining room, we saw our lunch. I shouldn’t have been surprised by its size. It looked like she was catering a funeral. What was it with Italians and food? Even growing up with it, I never understood it. I enjoyed it, but never understood.

“Geez, ma, it looks like you’re two Kosher pickles away from opening a deli,” I said, taking a plate and grabbing my sandwich fixings. Marci was right behind me.

Smiling she replied, “Well the sex twins over there need energy. I’m happy to provide it.”

Sonny “The Giant” Micelli shrunk into a chair and somehow turned even more crimson. Because of his former business it was hard to believe he was such a lamb, but here he was, beat down by a semi-arthritic, hard-of-hearing, 63-year old woman who was about as tall as Sonny was wide.

Marci and I caught the giggles again.

“Mom!” Carmen exclaimed a second time.

Before Carmen could continue Mom asked her, “Did you orgasm, dear?”

That stopped the whole room. My Mom had pretty much always spoken her mind, but as she had gotten older, her boldness was increasing to a tipping point.

Sonny ran to the bathroom and, I was pretty sure I heard puking sounds, it was hard to tell, it could have been a raptor attack too.

The look on Carmen’s face couldn’t possibly be described. It was a cross between resting bitch face and Hillary Clinton. Had it been any other woman besides our mother, Carmen would have already bitch slapped her.

Their closeness had just jumped to an entirely new level of weird.

Instead all that came out of her mouth was an exasperated, “What…”

“I asked if you orgasmed, dear.”

Shaking her head as if it might make her understand better, Carmen again asked, “What…”

“Well, I read in Vogue that it is very important for the woman to have an orgasm to feel closer to her man.”

Mom was reading Vogue?

“Stop saying orgasm, Mom! Geeez…”

More raptor sounds came from the bathroom.

“Well, I didn’t want to say cum,” she said as she grabbed a plate and started to build her lunch.

Marci and I stayed silent this whole time feeling like were watching an outtake of a bad reality show.

Carmen started to say something, sighed instead and took off for the bathroom to tend to Sonny.

“That was fun,” Mom said as she dove into her sandwich.

Until tomorrow…

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