Read Starting From Scratch Online
Authors: Georgia Beers
Tags: #Fiction, #Lesbian, #Romance, #Erotica
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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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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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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“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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“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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“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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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.
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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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At the mention of his name, my dog lifted his head
from where he was dozing under the kitchen table and
blinked at us.