I went up to Philadelphia today. I got a few things I'd forgotten to get from the apartment last time, including the teapot from Aunt. A.'s apartment and the directions from the coffeemaker. R.A. and I signed papers to get me off the lease, though it won't be completely official until her cousin R.M. signs them as well. He was R.A.'s co-signer and manages all her finances. I took R.A. to M.'s afterwards. I told her during the drive that I would have liked to have talked to her beforehand about moving, that I thought I'd have a lot more time to tell her I was moving. Once Mom found out I could move, I said, she wanted me to do it very fast.
"So your mom really wanted you back?" R.A. asked.
"She knew that it was hard for me," I said. I didn't get into blaming her for making it hard for me. Not that I really cared if I burned that bridge, but if I forgot more stuff, I'd like to be able to get it. Also, there really wasn't a need to be cruel or make R. cry. I figured it was just as well to leave it on decent terms.
At some point, I said I had to catch up with S. "Are you dating him?" R. asked.
I laughed. "No, he's young enough to be my son. I feel like a mother to him. That's why I call him my secret love child. Except that I hear things his real mother doesn't hear, like who he's dating. He's a busy guy." I skipped pronouns, and did not say anything about 'boyfriend,' or 'dating men.' Actually, some of it's "dating" with full quotes, but I didn't get into that at all. I'm sure his real mother doesn't hear about the hookups. I'd refrained from telling R. anything about S.'s personal life, and that was no time to start. I couldn't resist "busy guy," though.
M. had assigned R. to get groceries, so I parked in a space by his apartment, and R. took out her groceries. I gave her the keys back, which may have been a mistake. They hadn't asked for the keys at the leasing office, though. "Take care," I said.
Things improved when I got back to the suburbs. I left S. a message about the book signing (see previous entry). He didn't listen to the message, but saw that I'd called and called me back. I told him all about it, and that he could carry the books for me. "I'll have to lend you some of the books, so you know about who wrote what," I said, or words to that effect. He was up for the idea.
I heard train noises in the background. "Are you at a train station?" I asked.
"Yes, at [town in our county]. But the train (that line) doesn't go to [town further out in the suburbs], the one I can walk back home from, for another forty-five minutes. It's a twenty minute walk from [town further out in the suburbs] to my house if I cut through neighborhoods and so on."
"Would you like a ride from [first town]?" I asked.
The parental units wanted me to get Chinese food, and the place we get it from is on the way back from [original town] anyway. I asked S. if he wanted to go back to my house and have Chinese food, or if he'd rather go home. "Let me think. Home, please. I'm really tired." We caught up on the news on the way back to his house. "I explained to M. (S.'s boyfriend) about the books you edit." Apparently M.'s mind was blown by the lust slave in space concept. "Then I told him about the vampires and werewolves in outer space. He said, 'But that doesn't make sense.'"
"It's escapism, S. People just want to get away from their real lives for a bit." I said, "I told J.H., Dr. H.'s son,about the kind of books I edit. He said, 'But those books are soft-core pron.'"
"What do you mean 'soft-core'?" S. asked. "I read Channeling Morpheus. Those stories had a lot of sex. At some point there was a description of the sound of come spattering on the leaves." I'm pretty sure that was in Vertigo. I read those stories a lot to proof them for Channeling Morpheus for Scary Mary, which is what I'd lent S., the print version.
"It's a requirement for Changeling books to have a lot of sex," I said. "Any more, if I read something and the characters aren't going at it by page three, I'm like, 'What the heck?' I think I'm pretty jaded at this point." I also think I blew S.'s mind. "I'll have to loan you Sweet Oblivion, which is more stories about the characters. Oh, I just have the proof copy of that. Never mind." I considered lending him the proof copy, but I really don't want to do that. I'll figure something out.
S.'s finances were not that up for going to Philadelphia, he said. I think it was that often, he meant. "I can pay you to dig holes and water plants," I said.
"I could do that," he said quickly. "I've been working on my muscles." If I hadn't been driving, I think he would have asked me to feel his biceps again. When he flexed them, they looked pretty impressive. He's tall and thin, but it's all muscle. He weighs what I do, but is fourteen inches taller. I'm pretty sure he can lift more than his own weight.
I dropped S. off, and remembered to pick up the Chinese food. I got a lot done in real life today, and may do some editing later on. Or maybe I'll just read. It was good to see the love child, though.