“How old is he?” said Larissa.
“Sixty-two.”
“Oh my God! Your cougar membership has so been revoked!”
“Can’t be. Member for life.”
“Ha! How old was the last one?”
“Twelve?” Larissa laughed so hard she belched, which made her laugh harder. “Well, that’s what he told me. Maybe he was fourteen. But I’ll tell you something, Riss — until Mister Billion, it’d been a while since I saw hair on a man’s back.”
“Ask him to shave.”
“That’d be like polishing a turd — an old turd. But actually, I kinda like it. It’s kinda animal. It’s old-school.”
“Oh, fallen cougar! How’s the sex?”
“No trouble in that department. Rich geezers need to prove it all night. It’s like a campaign! I don’t even think he takes Cialis! He really likes the hard fuck. But we cuddle too, we do. Pushes my ‘daddy’ buttons, I guess.”
“You are fuckin’ hilarious.”
They were already drunk.
“When I tell him what a man he is, Mister Billion just blooms. All I have to say is, ‘You a rock star! You a gangsta!’ and he’s hard like a motherfucker. Tell you somethin’ else, Riss: when he’s fucking me and whispering in my ear how I’m the most full-on woman he ever met, it’s a total fuckin’ turn-on. It full-on works. He tells me I have the perfect body! Me! Well, for him I guess it’s perfect… tells me I have an ass like a black woman and I love it. I seriously own that pedestal he puts me on. Aren’t we funny, Riss? How everybody lies to each other and it never gets old?”
Just then Tristen came in, barely acknowledging them as he scurried to his room. (Rafaela was on a sleepover.) Larissa made necessarily hasty introductions before excusing herself to follow the blur of her boy. After a minute she came back in, distracted.
“He’s cute,” said Tessa. “You okay?”
“My son has… a lot of frickin’ issues. Know who I blame?”
“Dad?”
“Tristen always… I mean, he’s his own person, always has been. With incredible gifts. He’s a friggin’ genius. Gets that from his mom, o’ course — not the genius part but definitely the go-your-own-way. Derek always shit all over him — the way he dressed, the way he looked, his sex-shoo-al-itay. Everything! Rafaela was always the angel… our little one. But you know what’s wild? And freakin’ unfair?” She laughed spitefully. “I poured so much love on that boy! The therapy and the boosting him up. Daily. So much! In some ways, I’m closer to him than Rafi — I know it sounds crazy, even to me, but it’s true. And he knows it, Tristen knows it. But you know what’s unfucking fair? He still seeks that approval from his dad—”
“Wants the love.”
“—fuckin’ masochism! Keeps going back to that poisoned well.” She finished her drink and got contemplative. “God works in strange ways.”
“God doesn’t fuckin’ work at all, sista, nuh-uh. The man is currently unemployed. Basically just sits around the house planning gore and may-hem. You know: tips and helpful hints for ISIS.”
Tessa got a text. “Fuck. Mister Billion’s running late.”
“Mr. Hairy Man?”
“He’s probably blowing his Bentley.”
“Or waxing his back.”
“He takes better care of that car than I do my vajine-jine… it’s ten grand for a tune-up. Give me ten grand and I’ll tune you up, bitch—hey, know what you should do to your ex?”
“Contract killing?”
“Post ads on the Internet with his address. You know, ‘Cuckold seeking big black cock for wifey — drop by all hours.’”
“Don’t think I haven’t thought of it. But I just read on HuffPost about a gal who just went to jail for that. Crazy story. She wanted to buy a place in Carmel Valley and this couple swooped in and bought it instead. She was so pissed that she went online pretending to be the new owner. Said people should just drop by for sex ‘while my husband’s at work.’ Said if there’s no answer, just push your way in!”
“Now that’s the spirit. That’s what ahm talkin’ ’bout.”
Tessa made herself another martini, which Larissa discouraged, because her friend always told her, “I’m a Cadbury — that’s cheap drunk to you, missy.” She was going to get shitfaced tonight and that was that. “I just want to puke in his vehicle. Or do I mean butthole. Or is there a difference.” She swung the topic back to Larissa’s love life. “Best way to get fucking revenge on that cradle-snatcher is to fuck one of his friends. If he has any.”
“No way, Renée. They all have tiny dicks.”
“Probably all pedophiles… you should tie him up and make him watch you get fucked by niggers.”
“Tessa!”
“But seriously, Riss, you gosta get out there. Fucking well is the best revenge — who said that? Maybe it was Mr. Wonderful from Shark Tank. I frickin’ love Mr. Wonderful!”
She was getting loud. Larissa shushed her, nodding toward Tristen’s room.
“Anyway,” she said, “I have been out there. Sort of.”
Tessa immediately sobered up. “I knew it! Tell all!”
Larissa couldn’t believe she was about to, but went with it.
“You cannot tell anyone, Tess.”
“Oh my God, you know I won’t!”
“But I’m really serious. Because it’s — potentially—I don’t know what, but you have to totally promise.”
“Larissa, I swear. On my kids.”
She took a dramatic beat then said, “I went to a party.”
“And…”
“I totally wasn’t expecting anything to happen—”
“Expecting…? Larissa! This is not freakin’ charades! Spill it!”
“The party was at Dusty’s house—”
“Oh. My. God. I knew it.”
“And I wound up sleeping with her and her wife.”
“Oh my God,” said Tessa, hand clapped to mouth. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God! I knew something was going on!” (Which of course she didn’t.) Giggles became an avalanche, burying them both. “Was that — is that something you do?”
“It was totally my first time.”
“You are amazing. I love you so much I want to sleep with you, right now! I’m totally jealous!”