Read Starting From Scratch Online
Authors: Georgia Beers
Tags: #Fiction, #Lesbian, #Romance, #Erotica
“Wow,” Elena commented. “is was what, the sixties?
Your grandmother was a woman before her time.”
“Definitely. She still is. Very independent. She doesn’t
like to admit that she’s getting older and sometimes needs
help.”
“And where is your mother?”
“I have no idea.”
Elena blinked at me for several seconds. “Wow.
Seriously no idea? She just left you?”
e subject wasn’t one that got to me emotionally very
often, not after thirty years, but something about the
sadness in Elena’s eyes, the pity in her voice…I swallowed
down the lump that threatened to form and gave a curt
140
Starting From Scratch
nod. “When I was four. She just took off and never came
back. Last time I heard from her, she was in Colorado. I
think.”
“And when was that?”
“When I turned sixteen. She sent me a birthday card.”
“Jesus, Avery.”
“Yeah, well.” I gave what I hoped was a nonchalant
shrug. at sympathy in her expression was something that
never ceased to raise my defenses, forcing me to prove how
tough I was, that it was no big deal having my mother run
out on me when I was barely more than a toddler. “What
can you do?”
Elena’s eyes told me she wasn’t buying my bravado act,
but she was sweet enough not to say so. “And what about
your dad?”
“I don’t know who he is.” I finished my wine in one
big gulp. “I’m not even sure my mom or grandma knows.” I
shrugged again, beginning to look like a woman with some
sort of tic. “Hell,
he
may not even know. I don’t think he
ever came looking for me, but it took me until I was in my
early twenties to understand that he may not have even
known my mom was pregnant with me.”
Elena sighed and shook her head. “I just don’t get it.”
She downed her wine, too, and signaled Jeff. “Do you want
to order a couple appetizers?” she asked suddenly. “I need
to soak up some of the wine in my stomach.”
Her smile was gentle and I agreed. Jeff grabbed us a
menu. Deciding quickly and simply on the stuffed
mushrooms and a plate of the bruschetta, we put in our
order and Elena returned to our conversation without
missing a beat.
141
Georgia Beers
“I’ll never understand how somebody can just
disregard their own kid.” She held up a hand. “And I mean
no offense here. I’m sure there were extenuating
circumstances for your mom that I know nothing about,
but…I just don’t get it.”
My brain, of course, immediately zoomed to visions of
Cindy paying no attention whatsoever to Max during
practice, but before I could silently condemn Elena for
being blind or a hypocrite, she stunned me and brought
the subject up herself.
“My ex is like that,” she said quietly.
“Cindy?”
“You’ve met her?”
“At practice.”
“Yeah? Did she hit on you?”
I looked away, grabbed for my wine, willed Jeff to
bring our food.
Elena squeezed my forearm, her touch warm and
comforting. “It’s no big deal, Avery. It’s certainly not new
behavior from her.”
I shook my head. “She doesn’t waste any time,” I
commented with a bit of a snort, remembering how
quickly Cindy had sized me up at one practice, then asked
me out the next time she saw me.
“She never did.”
I didn’t want to pry. At the same time, I wanted to
know more. I felt like Elena and I were really connecting,
and I wanted to know her on a deeper level, corny as that
sounded. “Did she…want Max? I mean, from the
beginning?” I crossed my fingers and prayed I wasn’t
treading on offensive territory here.
142
Starting From Scratch
“Oh, God, yes. Us having a child was actually her
idea.”
I stared at her in disbelief as Jeff arrived with our food.
We arranged our plates, our utensils, and each took a bite
before continuing the conversation. “Seriously?” I asked,
trying to reconcile the could-barely-be-bothered-with-
her-kid woman I’d seen with somebody who truly wanted
a baby, who actually suggested it, introduced the idea into
the relationship.
“Absolutely. I wanted kids, too, but I also wanted to
wait a bit. I had Max when I was thirty. I would have
waited a few more years. But Cindy…no, Cindy wanted to
have a baby right then. And what Cindy wants, Cindy
gets.” at last bit was said with just enough disgust to tell
me it wasn’t the first time Cindy had wanted something
that Elena didn’t.
“So…why didn’t she have the baby then?”
Elena’s answering laugh was bitter. “Oh, she didn’t
want to
carry
a baby. She just wanted to
have
one. It was a
status symbol for her, though I didn’t realize that until Max
hit the Terrible Twos and she disappeared whenever he got
difficult. Her friends were having kids around her, her
brother’s wife had a baby. She didn’t like having the
attention pulled away from her, so she figured out a way to
get it back.” She popped a mushroom into her mouth and
smiled ruefully at me. “Of course, it’s only after three years
of therapy that I’ve been able to figure some of this stuff
out.”
I raised my glass. “To therapy.”
“Amen.”
“Max is a great kid,” I said, trying to take away the
gray fog that seemed to settle across her face.
143
Georgia Beers
It worked. Her smile broke through. “He is. I can’t
imagine my life without him. And I don’t understand how
Cindy doesn’t feel the same way.”
“She’s not you,” I said simply, because it was simple.
“She didn’t even want to be called any variation of
Mom. ‘Cece’ was her idea.” She rolled her eyes to show
what she thought of that. “I think she was relieved when I
told her I was leaving her and I was taking Max with me
to my parents’ house.”
We sat for several minutes in silence, just eating. It
was surprisingly comfortable and I felt no squirming need
to break the quiet with small talk. When Elena finally
spoke again, a fire burned in her eyes as she looked at me.
“at’s what I meant when I said I don’t get it,” she
said told me. “e hardest part of all of this is trying to
reassure Max that Cindy does love him, that she’s not mad
at him, that he didn’t do anything wrong, that it isn’t his
fault his other mother is an idiot. I don’t know how your
grandmother did it. I really don’t. She must be one very
strong woman.”
I’d grown out of pondering it too often, but when I
was a young adult and could finally think about things
outside of the Box of Me that teenagers and college kids
tend to get stuck in, I started to realize how hard it must
have been for my grandmother. She never said anything
terrible about my mother, but I think she fell back on the
old adage, “if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything
at all,” because she really didn’t talk about her much. I
began to realize, though, how disappointed she must have
been. Here she’d spent twenty years raising what she hoped
was a kind, intelligent, responsible girl and what happens?
Teenage pregnancy aside, the girl decides one day to leave
144
Starting From Scratch
her four-year-old with her mother and run off, leaving no
note, no forwarding address, no numbers, nothing. What is
a mother to think about her parenting skills after
something like that? It often occurred to me that Grandma
must have felt like a failure, she must have been scared,
resentful, exhausted, frustrated…so many things and
nowhere to vent, nobody to vent to. Still, she took great
pains to make sure I didn’t hear bad things about my
mother from her.
I came up with those all on my own.
“My grandma’s the best,” I said and I meant it. “She’s
not all warm and fuzzy, not like most grandmas are. But
she gave up so much to take care of me.” I shook my head
as I was hit by the sheer scope of her sacrifice. “So much.”
“Well, looks to me like she did a great job.” Elena’s
smile was genuine and I felt my cheeks warm.
“anks. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re doing
a great job with Max, especially since I suspect you’re
doing most of it single-handedly. It can’t be easy.”
“It isn’t.” She stared off into the middle distance as she
spoke, her voice soft and full of emotion. “You know,
sometimes I wish that Cindy would just go away. at
she’d just stop showing up altogether. Isn’t that terrible?
at I’d wish one of my son’s parents to just vanish? But
she disappoints him so often…so, so often. How many
times can I assure him it’s not his fault before he stops
believing me? He’s such a sensitive kid. And I wish he
wasn’t. Sometimes, I really wish he’d just toughen up so she
can’t hurt him so easily.” Anguished eyes turned on me,
shimmering with moisture. “What kind of mother wishes
for her child to be cold and unfeeling?”
145
Georgia Beers
“A mother who wants to protect that child,” I said
with conviction. “All of the things you want are the things
that might be best for him. at’s what moms do; they
want the best for their kids. And you know what, Elena?
Max is a great kid. He’s sweet and he’s gentle and he’s
kind. And he learned all those things from you.”
A transformation happened then, as I watched Elena
collect herself and blink away the wetness in her chocolate
brown eyes. Right in front of me, in an instant, she went
from being a simple crush to being a woman I might like
to have something with in the future. Something new and
intense and wonderful.
It scared the hell out of me.
“You’re sweet,” she said, obviously unaware of what I’d
just witnessed, seeming not to notice the slight trembling
of my hand as I finished off my wine. “ank you. I needed
that.”
“You’re welcome.”
“He likes you a lot, you know. It’s always, ‘Coach King
this,’ and ‘Coach King that.’”
“He may like me, but he
loves
my dog.”
Her sharp guffaw startled me, but I was getting used
to it. “He certainly does. As long as you stay close by, I
won’t need to get him his own.” e realization of what
she’d said hit her then and she busied herself by looking at
her watch. “Wow.”
Leaning close—I couldn’t help myself—I looked at
her watch, too. It was after ten. “Wow is right. I had no
idea we’d been here for so long.”
Her eyes met mine as we sat with our heads only a few
inches apart. “Early game tomorrow.”
“Uh-huh.”
146
Starting From Scratch
A slow smile made its way onto her face and it looked
to me like she regretted pulling away as she turned to
signal Jeff. I had honestly never seen a sexier woman in my
entire life and my whole body began to tingle, like little
fingertips were playing over my skin.
We fought good-naturedly over the bill, finally
agreeing on an even split. We left Jeff a generous tip and
headed out into the Friday night dark.
Smells from the restaurant’s kitchen were beginning
to dissipate in the air outside, a hint of garlic here, the
slight scent of sautéed onions there, mixing in with the
cool flavor of the night. We strolled slowly to the parking
lot where our cars were parked three spaces from one
another. My Jetta came first and I slowed to indicate it was
mine. Elena followed me to the driver’s side door; I could
feel her behind me.
“I had such a good time tonight, Elena,” I said,
turning to face her. It was all I got out before she kissed
me.
My brain registered everything at once—her gentle
hands cradling my face, her body pressing me back against
the car, the way our height difference made me feel
deliciously trapped between Elena’s body and my
Volkswagen, the softness of her lips on mine, the tang of
wine still clinging to her mouth—and I had to focus hard
to keep f rom being completel y over whelmed.
Overwhelmed, but in a good way. I wanted to remember
everything I could about my first kiss with Elena Walker
because I was sure it wouldn’t be my last.
It wasn’t a demanding kiss, but one of promise, of
anticipation. One that was equal parts gentle and insistent.
My hands came up to settle on her waist, to pull her hips
147
Georgia Beers
closer to mine, then to slide up under her suit jacket and
feel the smoothly planed muscles of her back beneath the
silk of her blouse.
I wanted more and I wanted to slow things down,
both at the same time, and I somehow knew that Elena
felt the same way. I allowed her to deepen our kiss for
several long seconds, relishing the taste and feel of her
tongue as it touched mine, before I brought my hands
around to her chest and wrenched our mouths apart as
gently as I could. One of us whimpered, but I wasn’t sure
which, and we stood there in the dark with our foreheads