Motherly in Stuff

I happened to be standing near a window yesterday and looking outside when I saw Megan in her driveway with some guy. They were clearly affectionate with each other, although from the distance I couldn’t tell if they’d only exchanged an innocent hug or if it’d been more than that. He got into a car and drove away. She went inside her house.

I texted her. “I really wasn’t spying on you, just happened to be at the window. Who was that?”

A quick response: “Guy I know from the gym.”

I kind of knew what she was saying because she’d told me before that she sleeps with some of the people she trains. It made me sad for some reason. Even though I’ve always known it was a thing, I’d never actually witnessed it before. It made me sad for her that she felt like she needed to sleep with clients to get their business. It made me even sadder for the guys that slept with someone who was openly a lesbian just because they want sex that badly.

It made me want to be protective of her. It made me want to go to her house and rub her head and tell her she shouldn’t need to feel like she has to do that.

I’m nearly 20 years older than Megan but I’ve always thought of her as being from my generation, in my age group, even though I know that’s not true. I think I’m only a few years younger than her mother. But last night I felt motherly about her and I’m not sure I liked feeling that way.