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Authors: Georgia Beers

Tags: #Fiction, #Lesbian, #Romance, #Erotica

Starting From Scratch (28 page)

BOOK: Starting From Scratch
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reservations go, and ask me questions, some of them filthy.

It felt like everything was back to normal.

Except I was no longer single.

And did I like the sound of that.

1

e next week flew by and before I knew it, it was

ursday. I hadn’t seen Elena all week, but we talked on

the phone every night. ere was a part of me that felt

some frustration at having my beautiful girlfriend a mere

six doors down and not being able to touch her, but at the

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Starting From Scratch

same time, I liked the pacing. I felt like we were really

getting to know one another through our phone calls.

After all, we both knew that if we were in the same room,

we’d end up naked and panting within a matter of minutes,

so the phone calls ended up being a good thing for the

relationship, forcing us to talk rather than, well, fuck. At

least, that’s what I kept telling myself.

Josh came into the office late on ursday and when

he finally arrived just before lunch, he waved around a

small photo of what looked to me like some kind of

splotch. He dropped it on my desk.

“Take a gander at that,” he said, his chest all puffed

out like a proud peacock.

I squinted at it. “An amoeba?”

He swatted at my arm. “No, stupid, it’s an ultrasound

picture. Of my kid.”

“You fathered an amoeba?” I couldn’t help it. It was

fun.

“You know, getting laid on a regular basis hasn’t made

you any nicer.” He tried to snatch the photo away, but I

held it out of his reach.

“Okay, okay. Show me.”

He pointed out what little detail we could see at

fifteen weeks—which wasn’t much. But he was so cute and

so proud that I just listened and nodded while he went on

and on.

“ey usually don’t do an ultrasound until twenty

weeks or so, but Nina wanted to get one now so she could

check on dates and stuff, just to be sure.”

“And?” I asked. “When’s the magic date?”

“We’re due February tenth.”

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Georgia Beers

I loved that he was using ‘we’ instead of ‘she.’ It was

cute.

“Well, then, you’ve got…” I consulted my calendar.

“About six months to get your shit together. ink you can

manage?”

He flopped down into his desk chair as if his bones

had all suddenly disappeared. “I have no idea. But I don’t

have a choice either, so I guess I’ve got to say yes. Right?”

“at’s the spirit,” I said with a smile. “Seriously, you’re

going to be a great dad, Josh. No worries.”

“From your lips to the big man upstairs,” he said,

pointing at the ceiling.

I worked steadily through lunch on our latest project,

trying out several different shades of burgundy/maroon/

brick red before finally settling on the one I thought would

work best for the banner our client was having printed.

ey were a burger chain, but not fast food, per se. ey

were a well-known establishment in the Greater Rochester

Area called Ziggy’s and they made the most outstanding

cheeseburger I have ever eaten in my entire life. And I’m

not even that big a fan of burgers. But Ziggy’s Ultimate

Cheeseburger was just that and I actually salivated a bit as

I thought about one. I cocked my head as I looked at the

Ziggy’s logo on my computer screen, and thought of their

kid-friendly atmosphere—the fun cups with the squiggly

straws, the coloring page placemats, the free balloons.

Without allowing myself time to back out, I picked up my

phone and dialed Elena’s cell. I didn’t like calling her office

phone, even though she said it was okay to do so. I figured

if she was busy with work she’d let her cell go into

voicemail, but if her office phone was ringing, she might

feel obligated to pick it up and I didn’t want to interrupt.

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Starting From Scratch

“Hey, sexy,” she answered, her voice a low hum that

swept through my body like a wave of warmth.

“God, how do you do that with two words?” I asked,

bewildered.

“Do what?” she asked, pretending to play innocent.

“Like you don’t know. How’s your day, sweetheart?”

“Crazy busy and flying by. Yours?”

“e same. Listen, would you and Max maybe want to

go to Ziggy’s tonight for dinner? It’d be fun.” I held my

breath, knowing full well that this was the first time I’d

suggested all
three
of us spend some time together.

“Oh, my God, we’d love it.
Max
would love it.” Elena

sounded very happy and that, in turn, made me very happy.

“Great. Why don’t you two just come down to my

place when you’re ready? at way, Max can see Steve, too.

Okay?”

“at sounds great. Can’t wait to see you.”

By seven o’clock that night, we were seated in a red

vinyl booth at Ziggy’s. Elena and I sat across from one

another and Max was next to me, coloring away on his

placemat depicting talking burgers and dancing fries. I got

a little mushy inside when he said he wanted to sit by

“Coach King.” I shot Elena a look that said we were going

to have to teach him my first name.

“I need ketchup,” he said as I handed him his fries,

drawing the words out irritatingly.

“What was that?” I asked, cupping a hand to my ear. “I

thought I heard a high-pitched whining sound.”

Max tried to smother a grin, but wasn’t quite

successful. “Can I have ketchup on my French fries,

please?”

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Georgia Beers

“Why, yes. Of course you may have ketchup for your

French fries. What a nice, polite young man you are.” I

poured ketchup onto his paper plate. “Tell me when.” We

went through the same drill with his junior cheeseburger

and then I helped him lay a napkin in his lap and we each

bit into our burger at the same time, grinning like

goofballs at each other. When I looked up, Elena was

smiling at me with an expression on her face I couldn’t

quite define.

“What?” I asked her around a mouthful of food.

“Nothing.” She shook her head and popped a fry into

her mouth. “I’m glad you suggested this.”

“Me, too.”

“Me, three!” Max said, punching a fist into the air.

Ziggy’s had a clown in-house that night and when I

waved him over to our table, Max was in awe. e clown

did that thing where he twisted balloons together until

they resembled a poodle or a Dachshund or a hat, me

wincing the whole time, as I’m always sure the damn

things can’t possibly hold up to such manhandling and will

pop loudly at any moment and give me a freaking heart

attack. But of course there was no popping and Max ended

up with a giraffe made of yellow latex. He was a very happy

kid.

It was nearly eight thirty by the time Elena looked at

her watch and announced it was time to head home.

I pulled into their driveway twenty minutes later. A

quick glance in the back seat showed Max dozing in his

booster chair, his giraffe held lovingly close.

“is was so much fun, Avery.  anks for…just

thanks.”

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Starting From Scratch

“Hey, I had a blast. And frankly, I’m a little jealous
I

didn’t get a balloon animal.”

Her fingers were gentle as she cupped my chin as

kissed me sweetly on the mouth. At that point, I felt I was

getting to know her body pretty well, but I was always

surprised by the softness of her lips and I sighed a little as

I sank into her.

“Ugh. Kissing. Yuck!”

We both jumped at the sound of Max’s sleepy voice.

My eyes must have registered my panic because Elena gave

my face a loving caress as she laughed. “You won’t always

feel that way, pal,” she said to her son. “I promise.”

I got out and went around to the back, helping Max

out of the car and pulling out his chair as well. I waited as

Elena popped the locks on her own car and took the chair

from me, tossing it into her own back seat as Max ran to

the front door of the house.

“What do you say to Avery, Max?” she asked.

“Open the door, Mom,” he said, jiggling the locked

knob.

“Max.” e Mom Voice.

He jiggled the doorknob again.

Elena tossed me a look before continuing with, “Max,

what do you say to Avery? I’m not going to ask again. Next

time, TV privileges are gone.”

He sighed, clearly annoyed, and muttered a less than

enthusiastic, “anks, Coach King.” I assumed he was

tired.

Elena shrugged an apology. “anks, Coach King.”

I grinned at her and returned to my own car, really

wanting to follow her inside, but not wanting to push. She

would tell me when she felt comfortable enough for me to

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Georgia Beers

be there again with Max home; I was confident of that,

and I thought tonight had been a big step.

At home, I took care of Steve, checked my voicemail

and settled down to watch a little television.

I sat for a long while paying no attention to what was

on the screen, thinking about the evening as well as the

past several weeks. Was it possible I’d been wrong about

myself all this time? at not only did I like kids, but kids

liked me? And that I was
good
with them? Where had my

certainty come from that I was not cut out for child-

rearing?  e answer was pretty simple, really: my own

childhood. Instead of focusing on the wonderful job my

grandmother had done raising me, I’d chosen to zero in on

the fact that my own mother abandoned me, as if it were

some sort of genetic predisposition and I was doomed to

the same fate. I’d just never had a reason to look beyond, to

go deeper.

I thought about Max. I thought about the kids on my

team. I thought about Elena telling my grandmother that

she’d like to have another child. e image of her pregnant,

her belly swollen and her skin glowing and her smile

radiant…it was beautiful. Sexy, even. And for the first time

in my entire life, I began to wonder what kind of mother

I’d make. What kind of mother I’d
really, truly
be.

And it didn’t scare me.

240

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

e next couple weeks went by quickly and smoothly.

Summer was coming to a close and I felt the urge to look

behind me, wondering if I’d missed it.

Elena and I—and Max—had fallen into a nice routine

and we did a lot together. We went on a picnic, we hiked

with Steve (which was less of a hike and more of a short,

zigzagging jaunt with a six-year-old tagging along), we

went to the movies, and we visited both Elena’s parents

and my grandmother more than once. We were slowly

settling into being a happy little family unit and I was

enjoying myself more than I could have imagined.

It was a Wednesday evening and Elena was hosting

her monthly book club at her place, so Max was at mine

helping me make oatmeal raisin cookies. His help had

become such a regular occurrence that I bought him his

own Dora the Explorer apron to wear while we baked. So

he stood on a chair next to me in his bright yellow apron

with half a cup of raisins and waited patiently for me to

give him the go ahead, tossing one into his mouth every so

often.

Max’s face lit up, his eyes sparkled animatedly. “Did

you see my lunch box in the catalog from the mail

yesterday?”

Georgia Beers

“I did,” I told him, knowing he was referring to an ad

flyer he’d seen.

“It’s so cool. I really want that. Cece is supposed to

take me to get my new backpack for school.” He grimaced.

“Mom says ‘don’t count on it,’ though.” en he sighed as

only a little boy can.

I made a mental note to ponder talking to Elena about

watching what she said in front of Max with regard to

Cindy. I knew she got incredibly frustrated by her ex’s lack

of participation in Max’s life, but I also knew it didn’t help

Max to hear about it. He was only six. He didn’t

understand how justified she was.

“Okay. Dump 'em in.” He tipped the raisins into the

bowl and I slid it in front of him. “Stir it up.” I knew he

wouldn’t last. His little hand wasn’t strong enough to stir

the heavy batter for long and he got bored pretty quickly,

but he gave it a whirl.

“We talked about you,” he said, his dark brows

furrowed with concentration.

“Who talked about me?”

“Me and Cece.”

“Yeah?” Now this was interesting. “You didn’t give

away any of my secrets, did you?” I poked him playfully in

the ribs.

“You don’t have any secrets,” he protested, giggling.

“She wanted to know if you’re nice.”

“She did?”

“Uh-huh. She asked if you were nice to me and I told

her how you take me and Mom places all the time and that

we have fun. And I told her how cool Steve is.”

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Starting From Scratch

At the mention of his name, my dog lifted his head

from where he was dozing under the kitchen table and

blinked at us.

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