Jagged Love

by Nicole Simone

  “Come in,” I yelled.

  Andrew stepped into the room, looking dashing in a sweater and faded jeans. His hair slightly damp from the shower curled at the base of his neck. Happiness warmed my stomach. I didn’t know whether or not Andrew belonged in my dream but I did know he belonged in the here and now with me.

  “Hey, my mom wants to know if you are up for a bake-off between my sister and you?”

  “Seriously?”

  “My family is competitive.”

  The last competition I’d entered ended in tears and humiliation. Granted, my mom’s idea of entering me in a spelling bee at six years old wasn’t the best idea. I was a horrible speller but that didn’t matter. My mom had her eye on the thousand dollar grand prize. When the judge had asked me to spell fragile, I threw up on the stage. A thousand people staring at my puke-stained clothes was mortifying. If that happened in front of Andrew’s family, it would be scarring.

  “I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to pass. I’m not a baker,” I said.

  “How do you know that if you haven’t tried?”

  “I have tried and it’s not pretty.”

  Andrew wasn’t a man to give up. That’s where we were similar. “There has to be something you’re good at making.”

  “Yeah it’s called poor man’s chocolate croissants and I don’t think your family wants toasted white bread with melted chocolate.”

  “What are you talking about? That sounds great! Make that.”

  In that moment, I wanted to squeeze the daylights out of him. His encouraging nature was incredibly enduring. I felt as if he would support whatever hair brained idea or dream that manifested during our time together. Conceding, I got to my feet and brushed past Andrew into the hallway. The sounds of a large party happening downstairs were filled with joy.

  “Is the apple cider laced with alcohol by chance?” I asked Andrew.

  “Of course. My mom may have been Amish once, but she isn’t anymore.”

  “Alright then I’ll do the bake-off.” I waved my pointer finger at him. “But only once I have a drink in me, and only then.”

  “Your wish is my command.”

  Grabbing my hand, he tugged me into the middle of the gathering. Little kids ran free squealing, while the adults nibbled at appetizers and sipped their chilled glasses of wine. There had to be at least thirty people milling around the house. Mark wasn’t kidding when he said to enjoy the silence while it lasted. Andrew’s dad’s side of the family was huge.

  I must have appeared as overwhelmed as I felt because Andrew’s thumb begun to knead my palm. “Relax,” he whispered.

  “I’m relaxed.”

  Andrew glanced over his shoulder, his eyebrows raised. “Then lessen up on the steel grip, Rocky.”

  My hand went lack as I mumbled an apology. Crowds of people weren’t my forte. Walking into the kitchen, Andrew’s mom and sister stood kneading bread dough on a marble slab. Flour dusted their aprons. They glanced up at our entry.

  “Did you get settled in all right?” Candy asked.

  “Yes, thank you. It’s a beautiful room.” I replied.

  “I have been saving it for future grandkids, but so far that doesn’t look like it’s going to happen anytime soon.”

  Andrew rolled his eyes. “Michael is dating somebody. Maybe he will marry this one.” He glanced around the room. “Where is that bastard anyways? He said he would be here.”

  His mom swiped her brow with the back of her hand. “The snow delayed his flight, but he will be here soon.”

  “All right, well Haven said she would go head to head on a cookie duel if you are still up for it,” Andrew said to his sister.

  “Hell yeah I am! There is a new recipe I have been perfecting. My roommates at college were my taste testers but they got mad at me for making them fat.” She pouted. “They didn’t have to eat all the samples.”

  Nerves twisted my stomach into knots. “Do we have to go into this blind? I haven’t memorized any recipes.”

  Andrew’s mom spoke. “Of course not. Constance is an overachiever, always has been. That’s why she was the first in the family to get into an Ivy League college.”

  “I’m standing right here,” Constance said.

  “I know, pumpkin. We are so proud of you.” Candy smiled sweetly then glanced over at me. “Do you bake often, Haven?”

  I shook my head. “No, but I’m an old pro at burning things.”

  Andrew squeezed my shoulders. “She is being modest. There is a recipe she would love to bake everybody tomorrow morning.”

  His family wouldn’t eat processed white bread with melted chocolate. They probably didn’t have white bread in the house. If I had to take a wild guess, their pantry was stocked with artisan ingredients and natural flours like almond or whole wheat.

  “No there isn’t, it’s nothing.” I said quickly then proceeded to change the subject. “Would you like any help?”

  Andrew’s mom and sister shared a look. Constance moved a couple inches to the right and threw an extra ball of dough on the marble slab.

  “We will get your feet wet first with kneading. After dinner if you are up to it, we can have the bake-off,” Andrew’s mom said.

  I pushed my sleeves to my elbows. “Sounds good.”

  “Have fun, girls.” Andrew slipped back into the chaos without getting me a glass of cider first like he’d promised.

  Guess I would have to do this conversing thing sober. I watched Constance’s hands fold the dough over onto itself, flip it around and repeat. Replicating her movements, a rhythm between us three was formed. A peacefulness settled over me as a white washed light slanted across the floors. Cinnamon and clove hung in the air and kids’ laughter floated in through the swinging kitchen door. If I closed my eyes, it almost felt like this could have been my life. The large family gatherings, inside jokes, and endless outpouring of love. An ache thrummed underneath my breastbone.

  Andrew’s sister broke the tranquility. “How did you and Andrew meet?”

  “We met at the coffee shop I was working at. He subdued an outraged customer before the man could strangle me.”

  Candy gasped. “People these days are too wound up. Andrew taught me a few yoga moves and they have worked wonders for my stress.”

  I couldn’t help but wonder if Camilla and Andrew’s mom practiced yoga together. For somebody who moved halfway across the world, Camilla was an unshakable presence.

  “Mom, doing down dog, or whatever you call it won’t solve the world’s problems.” Andrew’s sister slapped the dough. “What we need to do is implement Europe’s take on life. Naps during the day and two months of vacation.”

  “You already do that and you have three months of vacation,” Candy reminded her daughter.

  “Whatever, Yale is hard.”

  “It better be for the sixty thousand dollars I’m shelling out per year.”

  Now it was my turn to gasp. Their heads swiveled toward me and I coughed. “Sorry, something was in my throat,” I lied.

  Sixty thousand was enough for a down payment on a house. It was hard to imagine having that amount of money when I hardly had enough to eat growing up. Andrew’s sister shaped the dough into a loaf and set it into a pan. Brushing melted butter on top, she threw the pan into the scorching hot oven.

  “I told Kescher I would call him at four. I’ll be back.” Whipping off her apron, she exited the kitchen.

  “Kescher is her boyfriend,” Andrew’s mom explained. “We haven’t met him yet but Constance gushes about him. Young love, huh?”

  I politely murmured my agreement. We shaped our loaves and set them in the oven to bake. Andrew’s mom fiddled with a timer, turning the dial to sixty minutes.

  “We have some time to get to know each other.” Andrew’s mom gestured to the dining room table. “Sit, I’ll fix us a cup of apple cider.”

  Seeing no choice in the matter, my butt plopped into a sea grass woven chair. The scratchy material rubbed against my leg
s. I felt as if I was about to get interrogated. Andrew’s mom handed me a mug and tipped a small amount of rum into the drink. Since getting drunk and spilling my guts wasn’t on my agenda, I managed my intake.

  “So Haven, tell me a little about yourself. You said you work at a coffee shop?”

  On second thought, I swallowed a mouthful of apple cider. “Yes, I worked at The Roasted Bean but the owner to close shop until further notice.”

  “Oh, that’s too bad. What are doing in the mean time?”

  Having wild monkey sex with your son wasn’t the appropriate answer even if it was the truth. Nonetheless whenever anybody asked that question, they were really searching for your motivation, aka what gets you up in the morning.

  “I’m exploring my options,” I said.

  Andrew’s mom peered at me as if she was waiting for additional information.

  “I work at a nightclub part time, catering to drunk people. It’s not very glamorous.”

  “Most jobs aren’t. When I was a nurse, all kind of substances would end up on me. Blood, feces, you name it.”

  “That’s disgusting.”

  “Yeah, but at the end of the day, you’re saving lives. That’s what counts.”

  I blew on my drink. “I’m not saving lives. I’m getting people drunk.”

  Candy’s musical laugh brought a smile to my face. I’m glad she wasn’t ashamed her son was dating a glorified waitress.

  “Honey, you are bringing happiness and a good time. That counts as well,” she pointed out.

  Candy’s candor made me want to spill my guts to her. I didn’t have a maternal figure to shove wisdom into my life anymore. Correction: I never did. My mom’s sage advice was to always bag it before you fuck it and that was the extent of her wisdom.

  “Honestly I haven’t found my passion yet.” My eyes locked onto her hers, but there wasn’t any judgment, only kindness. I went on. “It seems like everybody is preaching about finding what you love and then doing that as a career but what if you never got that opportunity? Growing up, my mom didn’t shuttle me to ballet lessons or music lessons. I had to be the one to ensure I had a ride home once school let out. It was me against the world for twenty-three years and only now since Andrew has come into my life, my breathing has come easier. I finally broke the surface and can look around.” Candy handed me a napkin. Touching my cheeks, they were wet with tears. “Sorry, I’m not usually this emotional, especially with people I just met.”

  “Don’t apologize. It sounds like you needed to get it off your chest.”

  I fixed my makeup and dabbed away the smudged mascara underneath my lower lash line. “Yeah, guess so. Thanks for listening. Andrew is lucky to have you as a mom.”

  “I’m lucky to have him as a son. He wasn’t easy as a teenager being a boy with raging hormones but I wasn’t worried about him. I always knew he would figure it out and I was right. You are two similar in that way.”

  “How so?”

  “You don’t seem like the kind of girl who sits back and lets life fly by. You take the bull by the horns. Whatever you are meant to do will present itself. Be patient.”

  “Patience isn’t my strong suit,” I said.

  “‘Wise to resolve, and patient to perform’ –Homer,” she quoted.

  The spiked apple cider made me feel drowsy. Stifling a yawn, I tucked my feet underneath me and fought the urge to close my eyes.

  Andrew laughed at something as he walked into the kitchen. A red plastic cup was in his hand. “Mom, stop hogging my girlfriend,” he joked.

  “I like this one, Andrew, don’t mess it up,” she said sternly, flashing me a grin, which I returned.

  Glancing around the open kitchen, a sense of belonging stole my breath. This was what I’d been looking for. A connection to a family unlike my own. Andrew was right. After today, it was going to be a thousand times harder to leave.

  The party went until midnight and it was half past one when my head hit the pillow. Andrew’s family knew how to have a good time. There was a pumpkin carving competition, pillowcase races, and an overflowing amount of spiked apple cider. Also, a buffet with incredibly delicious food I had second helpings of. Andrew’s sister forwent the cookie bake-off, which was a huge relief. We instead decorated gingerbread men with the little kids who smeared frosting everywhere. It looked like a Candy Land murder scene in the kitchen.

  Tossing onto my side, I threw the duvet cover off my body and spread eagled on the mattress. The heat was on alarmingly high but there were too many buttons on the remote. What happened to simple gadgets anymore? Sweat beaded along my cleavage. Clicking on my phone, I saw it was the same time as three seconds ago. Sumiko was most likely awake but she wasn’t allowed phone privileges the first week in rehab. Hopefully, she wasn’t causing trouble. We weren’t on great terms after her attempt at escaping the hospital the night before she was to be admitted. A broken arm later, Sumiko realized escaping the hospital was harder than it appeared. I swear that girl had nine lives. Monica was another option, if she wasn’t having sex with her new boyfriend 24/7. With nobody to call, I groaned and threw my arm over my eyes.

  “Haven? Are you awake?”

  Light from the hallway spilled across the hardwood floors. A boxer clad Andrew tiptoed into the bedroom and shut the door.

  “What are you doing?” I whispered.

  “I miss my cuddle buddy.”

  Although I melted into a pile of goo, Andrew’s parents’ room was a few feet away. If they caught us in bed together, it would be humiliating. Guess we would have to be quiet. He hopped onto my mattresses, crawled toward me, and flopped onto his back. His cold feet pressed against my calves.

  A yelp escaped my lips. “Holy shit, you’re freezing.”

  “And it’s a goddamn sauna in here. Jesus, is this how you like to sleep?”

  “I couldn’t figure out how to work the remote.”

  He smirked. “That’s adorable.”

  I cursed the pitch darkness for obscuring my view of the hard cut lines of his abdomen and the bulge in his underwear. It was comparable to having a Christmas present that wouldn’t unwrap. The fireplace would provide enough light, plus an air of romanticism.

  My finger stroked his chest. “Why don’t you fix the heat and turn on the fireplace? I’ll go change into something slinkier.”

  “There is no other answer than hell yes.”

  Laughing quietly, I grabbed the lace nightgown from my suitcase and went to the bathroom. My pajamas were upgraded to sexual vixen. I finger tossed my blonde hair into that just rolled out of bed look. The mirror reflected back my pale complexion, which hadn’t seen the sun in months. Since a spray tan wasn’t possible, I added a swipe of red lipstick to my lips. Better. I pressed my palm against my stomach that was fluttering with butterflies. Sex with Andrew would never in a million years get old. Like Monica said, he knew how to bring the thunder.

  A soft glow flickered against the walls. Andrew was lying in front of the fireplace on the bearskin rug looking altogether spoonable. His boxer shorts left little to the imagination, exactly how they should be. Andrew’s gaze smoldered when he caught sight of my skimpy outfit. I tugged at the hemline self-consciously.

  “Did I just die and go to heaven?” He asked as he titled his head. “Actually more like hell because you look like a naughty devil.”

  “I should have bought horns.”

  “Seriously, Haven. You are breathtaking.” His finger beckoned me forward. “Come here.”

  The sexual tension in the room was thick as fog and we hadn’t even touched yet. I sat demurely next to him, folding my hands in my lap. Andrew had the ability to turn me into a virgin schoolgirl.

  He plucked a bottle of wine from the gift basket his mom provided. “Do you want a glass?”

  “Sure but there isn’t anything to drink out of.”

  “Pretend like you’re back in high school.”

  Unscrewing the cork, the smell of grapes and dark chocolate wafted unde
r my nose. Andrew took a swig then handed the bottle to me.

  “If I didn’t know better, I would say you were trying to get me drunk.”

  “I don’t need to get you drunk,” his mouth brushed my hair, “to fuck you.”

  The way he said fuck sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine. “Is that so?”

  Holding my gaze, he slipped the spaghetti straps off my shoulders, exposing my breasts. Andrew took another swing of wine and dribbled the red liquid over my skin. I moaned as his tongue licked it off.

  “You’re my favorite dessert,” he said huskily.

  So far, Andrew had grabbed the reins whenever we had sex but it was about time I put myself in the driver’s seat.

  Fixing my camisole, Andrew groaned with disappointment. “I rather liked that view.”

  “Don’t complain or you won’t get your present.”

  I pushed him onto the rug and climbed on top of him. The slick material bunched around my thighs. Andrew grabbed my waist and naughtiness shined in his eyes.

  “I like this bossy side of you. It’s hot.”

  “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

  A sexual deviant had taken over my tongue without the moves to back it up. In the past, sex with a guy was a selfish act. I used them for release and nothing more. With Andrew, I wanted to pleasure him and tap into what made him tick.

  Andrew ran his fingers up my spine. “Are you ok, baby?”

  “Fine, I’m just thinking of all the things I want to do to you.” A thousand porn moves ran through my head, each more ridiculous than the last.

  Andrew witnessed my lost expression and took pity. “How ‘bout we play a game? When I do something to you, you do the same.”

  “Like Simon says, but better?”

  He grinned. “Exactly. Ready?”

  Dipping my chin, I waited with bated breath. He brushed his mouth against mine then gently sucked my lower lip between his teeth. Andrew tasted like minty toothpaste and apple pie. Mirroring his actions, we collectively moaned. Goosebumps rose on my arms even though we were a few feet away from the roaring fire. Andrew lifted my hair off my neck and kissed the tender skin below my ear, traveling to the hollow of my collarbone. Minutes blended into nothingness as we continued to tease each other. Longing built to a dull ache between my thighs.