Best Laid Plans: A Summer Camp Swingers Novel

After a few minutes I set out at an unhurried pace. A half-mile later the sporadic raindrops became a steady, cold rain. I zipped up my windbreaker to my chin and kept running, even as water seeped under the collar and soaked into my shirt. I ignored it and thought about Christy instead.

She’d sounded like she was having fun with Brooke, which was exactly what they’d both needed. And I had to admit that I was getting exactly what I needed as well. Part of me wished it had been with Christy instead of someone else, even someone I’d fantasized about for years. I understood the taboo better than anyone, though, and that was the real thrill. The sex was good, but sex was sex, Slot A and Tab B.

Still, I wondered if I wanted to tell Christy. She knew how I felt about Erin, but she didn’t have a clue about Mom. How would I have felt if she’d had sex with an old boyfriend instead of Brooke? Would I have been upset?

That depends, I admitted as I turned onto the main road.

It depended on whether or not she still loved this hypothetical other guy. “Cheating” had always been emotional for me. But was it the same for Christy? Yes and no, probably. She didn’t see Brooke as a threat to our relationship, just like she didn’t see Leah as a threat. She’d even said I could fool around with “a certain family member,” although she’d meant Erin. Extending it to Mom was a stretch at best.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wouldn’t have been so tempted if Christy and I were having sex. I didn’t resent her for waiting, but my patience had started to wear thin over the past few weeks, especially since she’d told me she was ready to go all the way but wanted to wait till her ridiculous Catholic “birth control” said the timing was right.

And if I were being honest, that irked me more than anything. The rhythm method wasn’t the worst form of birth control in the world, but it ignored human nature and relied on more self-control than most people had in the first place, much less in the heat of the moment.

I also had to admit that I probably would’ve been tempted by Mom even if Christy and I were having sex. So I would’ve been in the same situation no matter what, which didn’t make it any easier to decide whether or not to come clean. I reminded myself that confession was good for the soul but bad for a relationship.

I was still trying to decide what I wanted to do when reality hit me in the face. Literally. An oncoming car plowed through a huge puddle and drenched me from head to toe. I wiped gritty water from my eyes and shook it out of my hair. I was already soaked to the skin, but the road dirt added another level of annoyance.

I was warm enough as long as I kept running, but the air temperature had actually dropped a few degrees since I’d left the house, so I turned and headed back. I couldn’t do anything about my Christy dilemma, especially from two thousand miles away, so I focused on the road and the occasional passing car.

I eventually made it to the shelter of the patio. I hadn’t thought to set out a towel, so I kicked off my wet shoes and quickly peeled off my soaked outfit. My skin steamed in the cold air. I gathered the sodden pile of clothes and headed inside. The house was warm and mercifully dry, but then I remembered that my bathroom shower was still full of houseplants. I plopped my clothes on top of the washing machine and headed toward the master bedroom.

Mom was still asleep, so I crept past her to the bathroom. I turned on the shower and gave it a moment to heat up. My toiletry kit was still on the counter from the day before, so I grabbed my razor and shaving cream. Needles of hot water stung my skin as I stepped into the shower and luxuriated in the warmth. After a while I lathered my hair and body and then rinsed off. Finally, I shaved my pubic area and soaked up the last of the hot water.

Steam billowed out of the shower stall when I slid the door open. I dried off and used my towel to clear a section of the fogged mirror so I could shave my face. Then I quietly brushed my teeth and went about the rest of my morning routine.

The bed was empty when I cautiously opened the bathroom door and peered out. I found Mom in the kitchen, making coffee in her pink robe.

“Morning,” I said.

She took one look at me and raised an eyebrow. “Au naturel, huh?”

“Fresh from the shower.” In reality I was showing off, but I didn’t want to admit it. “Besides, we’re nudists, remember?”

“It’s also winter, even though it feels like spring.” She nodded through the blinds. “April showers, come early.”

I shook my head. “Not today. It’s a cold rain. Like, fifty degrees.”

“Then why’d you go out?”

I shrugged. “Needed the time to think.”

“About yesterday?”

“Yeah. And Christy.”

“Mmm.”

“My life’s complicated.”

“Whose isn’t?”

“True.” I walked around the peninsula and leaned against the counter.

Mom gave me an appraising look and then nodded at my freshly shaved pubic area. “You should go to camp like that.”