by Gabrielle G.
Me: So help me find another plan!
One.
Luke: Did you tell her you like her?
Me: Are we in fucking high school or what? I should have texted Chris, at least he knows what pussy feels like.
Boom.
Luke: And we’re done!
I knew it. He’s so predictable. First, be sure you refer to Dex. As much as he loves his boyfriend, having his siblings saying over and over they prefer him, is something that is starting to get on his nerves. His laid-back attitude ain’t as laid-back anymore… Then asking Luke something as evident as if my plan is bad, and by doing so not showing any common sense, is the thing he hates the most. After years of shacking up with a grumpy lawyer, Luke became pretty much intolerant to peoples’ dumbassery. And finally, saying he can’t help because he knows nothing about women is the coup de grâce. I feel better already, so I continue bugging him.
Me: Come on, Luke. It was a joke.
Me: Lukey, I’m sorry.
Me: I love your gay ass, big bro.
Me: I’m sorry. Luke...
Me: Shit, are you having mad sex?
Me: Can I borrow your goat?
Luke: Meet me in 15 at Aaron’s restaurant.
Me: Oh oh, Daddy Lukey is not happy.
I throw my phone on the bed and roll over to get up, already knowing that whatever it is, I can be fifteen minutes late.
When I arrive, my siblings and their plus ones are around a table, breakfast spread, and coffee poured. They clearly have been there for more than fifteen minutes.
“Thanks for the invite,” I say, sitting down to the only available chair.
“Alright,” Aaron answers, “what’s the matter, Barn?” I raise an eyebrow and give him a glassy stare.
“I don’t know, tell me, Aaron. Having a nice breakfast amongst siblings?”
“Oh boy,” Dex mutters.
“What?” I snarl in his direction. He raises his hands, shakes his head and smiles, and this is the scariest thing I have ever seen. I imagine my brother-in-law smiles only when he skins newborns or pulls nails off his mortal enemy with tweezers.
“You never come to our breakfasts because you’re always asleep. So, between you being awake before noon, trying to get a rise out of Luke, and now having a tantrum about the damn breakfast you once told us was at the most ridiculous hour because we meet at eight when everyone is in town, let me ask again. What’s the matter?” I got up at dawn for years to take care of the damn farm with my father, and nobody ever organized a freaking breakfast then. Now that I sleep in, because I can, nobody wants to meet for lunch. Supposedly, because they have a life. What life? When they are around, Dex, Luke, Chris and Sal are on freaking vacation.
“I’m up early enough when I have clients.” I snatch Aaron’s croissant from his hand and bite into it. They all look at me chewing as if I was a toddler eating cake for the first time. I reach for Dex’s coffee to wash it down. He sends me his “dare to fuck with me look,” but as I feel like living dangerously today, I wrap my hands around his cup and bring it to my lips. Luke chuckles beside me.
“Going for the ‘nothing to lose’ attitude. That’s courageous.” He takes his boyfriend’s coffee back from me and hands it to him. Alane pours me a cup.
“Thank you, sweet,” I mutter the nickname my brother uses for his wife. Aaron growls, and she pats his arm.
“Alright,” Salomé leans forward, “what did Avery do now?”
“How do you know she did something?” I ask back.
“Because you’re like Luke. I was the only one able to get his underwear in a twist, and she’s the only one who can push a stick up your ass,” Dex deadpans. “Spill please, so we can all resume our mundane activities.”
“It’s nothing!” I shake it off and try to smile. Because what can I tell them? That I wanted to kiss her, and she didn’t want me to? That every kiss we share feels like the Red Sea opening for me to find my way to the Promised Land? That every time my tongue is in her mouth, I wish I could harness my heart to hers? That every breath we take together, I wish I could marry her, but I can’t? I can’t because she considers me as the dumbest koala on Earth. I can’t because she deserves a family that I can’t give her. I can’t because, even if this weren’t standing between us, she wouldn’t let me rebuild the pieces of her heart.
“It’s nothing sounds a lot like I’m fine and smells a lot like bullshit,” Chris says, his son in his arms. I didn’t even realize my nephew was with us until now. The kid never makes any noise. He fusses, but otherwise, he’s so quiet, you can forget he’s around, and it has already happened, more than once, to his parents.
“Give me my godson,” I gesture to get some snuggle time with Arthur. Chris hands me his son, and I start to hum my mother’s song. The same one I sang to Lex the other night. I begin to rock back and forth and close my eyes while my baby nephew crawls on my chest. He smells like sweet milk and baby powder. I feel lightheaded and numb all of a sudden, and a wave of sadness takes over me. Before I can stop my emotions, a tear falls from the corner of my eye. My mind seems foggy and my heart miserable. My back starts aching again, and I know it means that whatever I thought my happily ever after was, me not being able to hold my son the way I’m holding my nephew is a reminder, I don’t deserve it. When I open my eyes again, the whole table is looking at me. Aaron, Luke, and Alane wondering what this is all about, while Chris, Dex, and Sal seem to recognize the hardship I’m going through. My sister comes closer, removes her son from my arms, gives him to her husband, and gives me a hug. Her fingers find the back of my neck, and she traces the only tattoo I want to forget I ever got.
“The only thing you owe her is to live your life and be happy,” she whispers into my ear.
“What if my key to happiness is buried under a mountain of complication?” I ask her, tightening the hug.
“Less introspection, more action, because it’s not going to dig itself out.”
“But what if I can’t give Ave what she wants?” Sal shrugs in my arms.
“So get her what she needs. She might be bossy and stubborn, but her heart is in the right place, and she’s more scared to be loved than anything else.” She cups my face with her hand and pinches my cheeks. “Now, go get her, tiger. Make her fall in love with the decent man I know is in there, hidden behind my asshole town slut of a brother.”
“Okay, but first breakfast.” I smile and sit back on my chair. Turning my body to face my brother Luke, I lean over to see Dex.
“Did my texts at least give you the opportunity to blow Luke in the bathroom so he could relax?” Luke growls beside me.
“Nah,” Dex beams, “he always tends to drip on my suit.”
“You’re not wearing a suit,” I stupidly state the obvious for all to see.
“My bad.” Dex smirks.
“For fuck’s sake, why do you all fuck in my restaurant’s bathroom now?” Aaron grunts.
“Because now that Barn has a kid living in the barn, we can’t really anger-fuck against the wall there,” Chris says, raising a hand for a high five from his wife.
“Well, would you prefer us to do that on the restaurant tables?” Luke asks, referring to the time Aaron and Alane reconnected.
“That’s so four years ago guys.” Alane laughs. “I hear the barn’s kitchen is where the action is these days.” She winks at me, and I laugh, feeling ten thousand times lighter than when I arrived.
“Is news traveling that fast, or do you like to think of me doing those things, sweets?” A piece of bread hits me on the forehead, probably compliments of Aaron. I turn to him.
“Luke is my favorite brother,” I tease him.
“I pierced your dick. I’d better be.” And because nobody wants to hear about a family member’s dick piercing at breakfast, they all grunt and stand, leaving Luke and me alone to finish our coffee and discuss what ink I should get next while our family ends their breakfast at another table. And just like that, I feel almost like myself
again.
21
Avery
Something is changing in the air.
After what happened between Barnabas and me last week, I thought for sure I needed to pack my bags and find another place to live. I mean, if he was done playing games, clearly our arrangement was about to end. But when he came back from wherever he was early in the morning, there was something inexplicably sweet in his eyes, and I couldn’t gather the courage to pack my bags and leave. So, I stayed, and since that day, it feels like Barn is on a mission to make me swoon.
It was subtle in the beginning, such as getting up to make coffee for me, not calling me darling anymore, but still not calling me sugar, side glances, and filling the fridge with my favorite beers; it became more obvious day after day. He didn’t back down when I caught him staring at me yesterday, leaving his confident and sexy gaze to undress me while smiling at me. He brushed past me thousands of times, played with his hair, cooked for me, commented on my appearance, or asked how my day was. As pathetic as it sounds, no man has ever paid so much attention to me, and if my vagina is burning from desire, my heart is melting from adoration. Nevertheless, nothing is happening. No amount of cleavage, hair play, throat display, ass swaying, or eye fucking is getting me anywhere. Barnabas is stoic, waiting for me to make the first move, to give him what I refused to, to say I’m all in.
I don't need to talk to him or lay out what is happening to know. He’s ready to give me all of him and expects me to do the same, and that’s the only reason I haven’t jumped into his arms and kissed him senseless. After the two out of this world kisses we shared and the fantastic sex we had, I have no doubt he can rock my world. But giving him all of me means giving him all of my insecurities, imperfections, and doubts that I’ve buried under so many layers of resentment and standoffishness, so I’m not sure anybody can love all of me. In my universe, men die or never choose me. The only happy relationship I had was with Jake, and even then, he walked away when my Dad died, not because he’s an asshole, but because I was making his life impossible and using my uncertainties to prove no one could stay and love me. I was a petrified child thinking that if I loved someone, they would perish.
I'm now a terrified adult afraid to be seen for the imposter that I am. I’m craving the love story that would turn my world around, the romance that will sweep me off my feet, but diving in with a guy who could be as much an asshole as a sweetheart scares the shit out of me. I don’t want the guy who would save the day, I just want the man who will be there for me, even when my crazy brain tries to push him away, and my legs are running for the hills. The only superpower he should have is to see through the bullshit I’m feeding myself, and that I regret having eaten as fast as I gobbled it up. So many nights this week, I wanted to slip into his bed, wrap my arms around him, and kiss him senseless. But I didn’t. Because I know that decisions taken during the night are always a pile of regret in the morning light, and Barnabas is no exception. It’s easy to want to be with him when I’m in my bed, lying next to my daughter, with no complications. It’s easy to live the fantasy of the perfect couple, where he’s the ideal fake-boyfriend a girl can dream of. But what happens when we wake up? When he decides I’m not worth the trouble? When he walks away, dies, or doesn’t choose us? Us, because I’m not alone in it. I have to think of Alexis. They are perfect together, but Barn has never indicated that he wants to be more than a family friend, an uncle of some sort. Can I pin him down to become a father when he’s used to such a free lifestyle? Parents don’t fuck on the kitchen floor, do they?
“What are you reading, kiddo?” Barnabas interrupts my spinning thoughts, slouching next to Alexis and extending his arm on the back of the couch to be just in reach of touching my hair. I blush.
“Books, like my favorite princess,” she answers back in a sass.
“Duh… Who’s your fav? I love Jasmine! She’s...” I know he wants to say she’s hot, and I scoff, clenching my teeth for the bile inside my throat not to make its way any further up. Barn wraps his hand in my ponytail and tugs slightly to get my attention, but I ignore his glare and concentrate on Alexis.
“Jasmine is fine, but she isn’t a mermaid,” she replies with a heavy sigh of disappointment.
“Well, so you should like Ariel. She’s a redhead like your mom, and she’s as beautiful as well.” I turn to look at him over Alexis’ head and give him my most annoyed look, but he’s grinning.
“I hate Ariel! She’s no good for Eric! Mama will be better!”
“For Eric? Please! Your mom will be the best for the beast. Maybe she could tame him?” He wiggles his eyebrows, and his innuendos are lost on my girl, but they aren’t on me. In the scenario, he’s the beast that I can restrain. He winks, and I roll my eyes, still trying to ignore the feelings stirring in me as best I can.
“Yeah, Mommy is smart. She kills monsters under beds, so I’m sure she can help the beast. He’s not a beast, you know. He just was a mean stupid boy, but, in the end, he’s good. Are you good, Banarbas?” He blushes, and I want to kiss his embarrassment. How can that man think he’s no good, when he took me in when I needed it the most. I think of Deb, of what he must have felt when she woke up having forgotten who he was to her, and my heart aches for him.
“I guess I’m not bad.” He shrugs.
“Hmmm, well, which prince are you then?”
“I don’t know, Belle. I don’t think I’m a prince. I think I’m more like one of the dwarfs.” There is a vulnerability to his words like he really believes he can’t be anybody’s prince. The man who has been charming me all week, who’s trying to steal my heart and possess my soul, thinks he’s one of the Seven Dwarfs. And in a sick way, I can see it. Not because Barnabas is Sleepy, Grumpy, or Dopey, but because he feels small and reduced to the image people have of him. I don’t believe Barn is as shallow as he pretends to be. When I look at him again, the glimmer of disclosure is gone as fast as it came.
“I’m Handsy Dwarf.” He smirks at me, putting his mask back on.
“That’s one of the Smurfs , and it’s Handy.” Alexis giggles.
“My bad! The only Smurf I know is Smurfette...” Of course. My stomach hardens again, and it’s enough for me to end this conversation.
“Okay, little Bee. It’s time for bed!”
“Can I watch a movie with Banarbas?”
“No, he probably has a play date with a princess.” Barn freezes, pain written all over his face.
“Do you?” Alexis opens her eyes wide. It was supposed to be a joke, but as usual with Barnabas, it bites me in the ass.
“No, I haven’t for a long time. I guess I could watch Beauty and the Beast.” He smiles at her.
“Can I stay up and watch it with him? Please, Mommy. Please, please, please.”
“Barnabas is joking. He’s not going to watch a cartoon on a Friday night.”
“Ave, please. I don’t mind.” He looks so damn sexy, his hair falling on his pleading eyes. We haven’t spent time, the three of us, in the past week, and I miss seeing him with her. I know the best thing for me is to go upstairs and for Alexis to go to bed. I shouldn’t want to be next to him.
Alexis is batting her eyelashes and smiling hard. Barnabas takes one look at her and does the same. They’re both grinning, trying to convince me, and it’s one of those other cute moments that could go in a family album if we were one.
“Okay.” I sigh. “But no funny business or sugar overload. Just a movie.”
“And popcorn,” Barnabas adds.
“And hot chocolate?” Alexis pleads.
“Hot chocolate and popcorn! Hell yes, Belle!” Barnabas jumps off the couch and rushes to the kitchen.
“I love him, Mommy. He’s so funny. Do you love him?” Oh… Good Lord.
“As long as he’s nice with you, sweetie, I’m fine,” I lie.
“I just don’t like when he calls me Belle.” She scrunches her nose.
“Why don’t you like me calling you Belle? You just told me she
’s your favorite princess, and we’re about to watch her movie,” Barnabas says, reappearing with snacks filling his hands.
“We said no sugar, Barn.” I point at the contents in his hands.
“Hold on, Ave. I’m having a crucial conversation with my favorite little girl here. Your scolding can wait. Why don’t you want me to call you Belle?”
“That’s your mommy’s name,” she says all sad.
“Yeah, and that’s a big honor. My mom is super special, amazing, and beautiful.”
“I know, but I don’t want to be your mommy.” Barnabas looks at me confused. I can follow the mind of my four-year-old most of the time, but I’m as lost as he is right now. She starts to cry, and Barnabas doesn’t hesitate to take her on his lap and calm her down by kissing the top of her head and caressing her hair.
“I’m sorry, Lex. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I guess my mom is not as special as I thought.” He tries to make a joke. But I know it’s something else. I scrunch next to them and dry the tears off her cheek.
“Want to tell me what it’s about, Bee?”
She wipes her nose on Barnabas’ T-shirt, and I freeze, shame flushing my face.
“Don’t worry,” he whispers. “Just a T-shirt.” And as if those were the most sensual words he whispered to me, I flush all over, and my pussy screams to kiss him. Alexis is still sobbing on him, and I try hard to recompose myself to the task at hand, finding out why my baby is emotionally behaving like a thirteen-year-old with her first period, and trying to console her.
“Why are you crying, Lex?” he asks softly.
She looks at him with her big sad eyes, her lips trembling. “I don’t want to be your mommy,” she repeats.
“I get that, baby girl. But what does it mean?” he asks patiently, still stroking her hair.
“I don’t want to be your mommy.” She sobs some more.
“Maybe I should get her to bed?” I try to take my daughter from his lap, but she clasps on to him so hard. I can’t move her away from him.
