A Thin Line-

by DL White

  This is news to me. I sit up and twist around so I can see him. "When did that happen?"

  “He's been talking about it for a while. A couple of weeks ago, he let me know it was happening.”

  "Do mom and dad know?"

  “Nah. He wants to be the one to tell them."

  Preston's uncle made a name for himself wherever he went. He was surely set for life, a few times over. Was he coming to Florida to retire, or practice law?

  "So, you think he'll kick you out of your house?” I ask.

  "His house, babe,” he reminds me. "And maybe. I'm okay with it if it comes to that." He settles back against the tree and pulls me close to him, back where I was before he dropped a bomb on the group. "I'll have access to the place, so if we want to hang out or throw a party, no problem."

  "I'd feel weird if you weren't living there," says Brandess. “I wouldn’t want to intrude. I don't even remember where you used to live, you've been there so long."

  Preston laughs. "It's only been five years, Bran. I lived with my parents."

  "Well, you're not going back there are you?"

  "Nah," he says, jokingly pulling the strap to my bra and releasing it quickly, so it snaps against my skin. “Maybe I’ll move in with you."

  My apartment is a Cracker Jack box. I'd kill him after a week in such close quarters.

  The conversation migrates to a new topic. The sun has set, and the air coming off the waves is more cold than cool. The wind is kicking up sand, and I decide, very suddenly, that I am ready to be back in my room.

  I untangle myself from Preston, who is deep in conversation with Keith about the Corvette again. I drop a kiss on his cheek and whisper in his ear, "I'm calling it a night. See you upstairs."

  “Oh. I’ll walk you up." He starts to push himself up.

  I push him back down and insist he stay. “You can watch me walk up the path to the building." I point up the hill to the path I'm going to take that's completely visible from where we're sitting. "Stay. I'll be okay."

  He eyes me for a few seconds and then gives me a brief nod before returning to his conversation. I wave goodbye to my friends and pick my way up the walk toward Lover's Lagoon.

  "Hey. Hey, Angie!” I turn, surprised to see Troy following me up the walk. "I told him I'd walk you up."

  I'm unamused, but I stay where I am, arms crossed, waiting for him to catch up to me. "What is it with the Reid men? You don't think girls can do things alone?"

  Panting, but smiling, Troy offers his elbow and begins escorting me up the steep hill. "That's not it at all; you know that. Making sure you get where you're going, safe and sound. And uh... I wanted to talk to you."

  "About Preston?"

  "Sort of. And about Jade."

  I have to work hard to control my involuntary flinch at the sound of her name. I don't mind her, I swear. But I don't entirely trust her yet. I have to admit, though… she's been a trooper about putting up with me.

  "She said that you and she talked. And that you went all Mama Bear on her. And told her my nickname, which I might never forgive you for.”

  "Yeah, we talked. I told her not to play with you. You're practically my baby brother, and I'd fuck her up."

  Troy laughs, one of those hearty laughs I love from him. "Damn, girl! You’re serious. That's good to know."

  “I about took Preston’s head off today, and I kind of like him. Imagine if it’s someone I’m not all that fond of.”

  We crest the hill toward Lover's Lagoon, the groupings of buildings in sight. I nod toward an empty table with a red umbrella and sit. Troy drops next to me, then leans forward, elbows on his knees.

  "Jade says you two are getting your place soon." He nods, rubbing his hands together. "It's that serious? Enough to move out of the Reid Cocoon?"

  "It's that serious. Have to fly the coop sometime. And you know how my parents are about having girlfriends over.”

  I burst into laughter. Yes, I do.

  He sits up and clasps two meaty hands together tightly. He's so nervous. I think it's cute. “Jade’s cool. Funny. Motivated. We want the same things. And she cares about me. I know you think she's making a play for Preston by being here, but he’s made it obvious that he’s only about you. She couldn't steal him if she wanted to."

  He gazes at me with those soulful, deep brown eyes. "He always only been about you, Angie."

  I nod, laughing. "You get points for being right about that."

  "So, you admit it? He's in love with you."

  "Yeah. He's in love with me." I’ve never said it before, not out loud. That makes it more real than I think I am ready for.

  “Angie… I want Jade to be a part of the family. Our family. The family you're every bit a part of, already. And officially, pretty soon. You know it's coming.”

  I don't pretend not to know what he's talking about. Preston won't rest until the plans we made in the back of his Jeep on the banks of Lake Conway are carried out.

  “You want Mama Bear to be nice to your girlfriend?"

  Troy pauses, takes in a deep breath, then mumbles something. I don't catch it and ask him to repeat it. After a moment, he says, “I’m pretty sure Jade is the one. We've been dancing around the idea of taking things to a way more serious level. It’s still a someday thing, but…”

  My jaw drops to my lap, practically. So many words come to mind, but none of them will come out of my mouth. Troy laughs. "That was Preston's reaction. Then he asked me if I was kidding. And then he asked me if I knew what I was getting into."

  "When did you talk to him? And do you know what you're getting into?"

  “Couple days ago. I swore him to secrecy. I needed to know that he was cool with me dating her. And if he thought I was crazy."

  “You asked the man that stalked me until I agreed to get back together with him if you were crazy? You need a better gauge."

  Troy laughs a boyish giggle. “At Nate's Bachelor party, when he gave away his lap dances? I knew something was up. There’s only one person that would make Preston turn down a topless woman. And…well, I saw him swipe into your room in his robe that morning."

  My face flushes a deep, hot red. Did he know that long? Everyone knew that long?

  “So we're not good at hiding things.” I pause, letting my smile shine through. "But I'm happy. Yesterday aside, he’s been working hard to show me that he still loves me.”

  "And you still love him." I start to protest, but he shushes me. "Don't argue with me. I know things. You got it from here, or do I need to walk you up?"

  "I'm okay." I stand and stretch, my muscles still so tight from the day. "Good luck with Jade. She's a lucky girl."

  "I'm a lucky guy." He gives me a hug that lingers for a few seconds, but before he lets me go, he says, "I'm happy for you and my brother. Be good to him."

  “You got it.” He pulls away and makes his way down the hill again. He passes Preston on his way up, so I wait for him.

  He's smiling, angling his thumb at Troy, on his way back to Jade. "He told you?"

  “Yup. If he's happy, I'm happy."

  "Me too," says Preston, gathering me to his side, an arm around my shoulder. We head toward the hotel.

  “Are you? For real?”

  “Yeah.” He glances down at me, his brow furrowed. “What? You think I care about Jade?”

  “Just asking. Doesn’t it break Bro Code for him to date her?”

  “Angie…” He chuckles. “We talked, we flirted. I never even kissed her. She’s hot. But young and not my speed. And I figured that the more I hung out with her the more it would piss you off…”

  “Ugh, I should have known.”

  “He’s crazy about her and I’m happy for him because I’m crazy about you. And I'm happy for us."

  In our room, we settle into the couch in front of the TV and flip through cable channels. Preston opens a bottle of wine from room service. I swirl the Bordeaux, watching it color the sides of the goblet.

  “Were you going t
o talk to me about your uncle?"

  Preston gulps a mouthful of wine. It’s a stall tactic, but I stare at him until he answers. "I hadn't planned on mentioning it until I knew what was up for sure. I didn't want everyone to start planning on being out at the house next summer if I won't have the house."

  "But you knew he was moving back to town weeks ago."

  "It started happening before we got back together. I didn't think you'd care about my uncle."

  "I care if it means you're losing your house. What are you going to do?"

  “Well.” Preston sets down his glass and slides close, right up against me. I set down my glass since it seems we're about to have a serious discussion. “Let’s talk about that. What do you think I—we should do?”

  “Well, it’s your house, but…” I pause and clear my throat. How… do I put this?

  “But… if I’m moving, you want a say in where I go, because you’ll be there a lot. Or, you know, forever. Right?”

  I push the breath I’d been holding out of full, puffed out cheeks. Preston’s laugh is so loud, I’m not sure how the entire floor didn’t hear him. “Evangeline, baby. I hope I don’t scare you, but I have no intention of making future moves without you.”

  “I just… I’m just saying that my lease renews in a couple of months, so if…if we…”

  Preston nods, stroking my cheek with the backs of his fingers. “We’ll figure out what we’re doing, but we’re moving forward together. Deal?”

  I nod, heaving another sigh of relief. Preston is about to be homeless, but he’s so calm. But he doesn’t have to worry. Preston Reid always lands on his feet.

  “I’ll be sad if you have to move, though. I love that house."

  “Do you now? Maybe we can find another place on the lake. Or maybe my uncle will let us stay in the house. I don't know what's going to happen. I don't want to start panicking or planning until I do."

  “Have you asked him?"

  "No," he says, then dips his head to my neck and brushes his lips against my skin. I want to continue our conversation, but a deep tingle travels the length of my spine. It makes me arch my back and press into him. "But if it'll make you feel better, I will."

  “Among other things, that would make me feel better."

  Gentle, light sucking on my neck brings goosebumps. "I'll call him as soon as we get off this island."

  He rolls toward me, wrapping both arms around me and dropping his lips onto mine. The kiss is soft but lingers, ending so slowly that I don't realize my eyes are still closed, but our lips aren't touching.

  "You look beautiful this way," he says softly.

  I smile, my eyes opening. "Not talking?"

  He laughs. "Not yelling, not mad at me. Not trying to throw punches in the water.”

  "I can make a good case for you when you're sleeping, too. Not popping my bra and throwing me out of kayaks on purpose."

  "I'm your asshole."

  I lean toward him and kiss him. My hands cup his face; his stubble pricks the tips of my thumbs as I stroke his cheek. He moans and tips his head, deepening the kiss. When I pull back, I find his eyes and make sure he's looking at me, paying attention to what I'm about to say.

  “Preston…”

  "Angie, wait —”

  “No, I’ve been working up the nerve—”

  "Don't yet," he says. His eyes plead with mine. “Please.”

  I pause, confused. Don't?

  "I know it's taken a lot to get you to this point, and I’ve been harassing you about it, but you were right today. There’s no incentive to be with me if we’re not different. If I’m not different, so I want to work for it."

  I stare, massively deflated. I'm ready to say it.

  I think.

  I'm never going to understand this man, but I don’t want to.

  My life is the biggest, best adventure.

  32

  Six weeks later…

  My cell phone rings out in the darkness. It’s not the shrill triple ring, so it’s not my mother, but it’s someone on my VIP list, since the call breaks through my evening Do Not Disturb setting. I reach for the phone, my eyes popping wide open at Jackie’s name on the screen.

  “Hey, Jacks,” I murmur. Preston and I were exhausted and turned in early, so we’d been asleep for hours. “Are you okay?”

  “Hey, Angie. It’s Matthew. Jackie wanted me to call you.” I sit upright, then crawl across the bed to turn on the lamp. “She’s at Orange County Labor and Delivery, and—”

  “What? Wait, she’s early! Is Jackie okay?”

  “By a few weeks, yeah,” he answers with a chuckle. I read the nervousness under the laughter. “Thirty eight weeks is pretty much full term, so he’ll be fine, if she can deliver. That’s the problem.”

  Behind me, Preston rolls over. Disoriented, shirtless, wearing a maroon nylon cap over his hair, he props himself up onto his elbows. “Is that Matt?”

  I nod, then return my attention to the phone. Jackie had been having labor pains since the evening before, but when the contractions were close enough to come to the hospital, the monitors detected a distress signal, which sent all of her finely tuned birth plans into upheaval. Her doctor felt it was safer for her to deliver by c-section, and not by natural birth, as she’d hoped.

  “Aw. I know she’s disappointed.”

  “She is. But she’s okay as long as the baby gets here. And I’m okay as long as she’s okay.”

  “Should we come down there?”

  “No, no. It’ll be a while until you can see her. I’ll call you when we’re on the other side.”

  “Okay. Keep us posted, Matt. You can text me. I’ll pass the word. And let me know when Jackie is ready for visitors.”

  “And when you can meet our son.”

  I smile into the phone, then yawn as I hang up.

  The next day, we arrive en masse with balloons and flowers and cards for Jackie. Matthew rushes into our open arms with what looks like three days of beard growth and a wide, proud grin that I could have seen from miles away. His t-shirt from the Culinary Institute of Miami has seen better days—it is wrinkled and misshapen, and his sweatpants hang loosely from his hips. Matt looks like he hasn’t slept in days and is either very happy or delirious. Or both.

  "It’s been a rough night, but everyone’s here and okay. Jackie had some complications, so she’s a little rough but she really wants to see her friends. Two at a time, and try to keep it to a few minutes. I’d like her to get some sleep while the baby is sleeping.”

  Everyone stares at Preston and me—we arrived first and have been waiting for the longest. We get up and follow Matthew down the hall. Jackie is sitting up in bed, her hospital gown draped across her chest, hair tied up in a messy bun, face bare.

  She's smiling and gorgeous and giddy. Probably on powerful painkillers.

  I bend over her, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and squeeze her tight. I'm so happy I could bust, but I have to give her shit.

  "Sure, Jacks. Have your baby, but not on time or anything.”

  Jackie chortles, her laugh so evil. "You can repay me when you give birth.” She points to the glass bassinet next to the bed that holds a slumbering form. "He's exhausted. He'll have to entertain Aunt Angie and Uncle Preston later."

  Preston and I peer over the edge of the bassinet. Michael looks pissed off. I would be, too, if I were unceremoniously removed from a place I'd been squatting. He's swaddled like a long burrito with a cute knit cap over his round head. His tiny, cafe au lait face scrunches up as if he's fussing in his sleep.

  “So, you were the one asking for bacon all the time?” Preston coos. “He seems like a chill little guy.”

  “Don’t be fooled,” says Jackie. “He's got a set of lungs on him. I’ll need a girl's night once he's off of breast milk.”

  “It’s a date,” I tell her.

  Preston and I are mesmerized, staring into in the bassinet at this brand new creature. I grin over at Jackie, and whisper, "Good j
ob, mama."

  She smiles, whispering back, "Thank you."

  We've napped and lounged around the house and napped some more. Being awakened in the middle of the night, then waiting with bated breath for updates has sapped all my energy. It's all I can do to put something together for us to eat, though Preston offered to order something.

  "Nope. We ate restaurant food for a whole week on that island. I can't look at a professionally prepared plate of food right now."

  "That was over a month ago, Angie.”

  Preston is grumpy. Not because he wanted takeout, but because I've put him to work. He doesn't cook if it doesn't involve throwing something in a toaster or a microwave. I love him in an apron, wielding a knife, dicing onions, and peppers.

  “Chop.”

  I brown ground beef in a skillet, adding the spices I've had to bring from my apartment to Preston's house.

  "I'm chopping, slave mistress. I'm crying, but I'm chopping." He lifts his arm to wipe his face on his sleeve and resumes banging his knife through a pile of green and white. "That was cool, seeing baby Michael today. I've never seen a fresh baby.”

  I twist around to look at him. "Do you mean a newborn?"

  "Yeah, a newborn. Babies are great, huh?"

  I wonder, but don’t comment about where this conversation is going. Preston doesn’t talk out of turn or say things mindlessly. He doesn’t talk to talk. Eventually, he will make his point. I’m patient, so instead of taking the bait, I motion to him that I'm ready for his vegetables. He brings the chopping board to me and dumps the pile into the skillet.

  "You don’t uh… think about having kids at all?”

  Preston rests against the counter, folding his arms across his chest. His head tilts toward me in his casual stance. He wants me to buy that he happens to be musing this specific topic.

  I open the cabinet, pull out garlic salt and sprinkle some over the mixture, then return it to the cabinet. I do the same with a little more salt and pepper.

  "I haven't thought about it,” I finally tell him. At least… I hadn’t until we got back together. “I'm consumed with work, you know? And I wasn’t with a guy that made me want to have his babies. My life’s goal was to beat Preston Reid.”