Perfect Storm

by Erica Marselas

  “How could I not see it? I helped raise Georgia more than she did,” I snap. “I helped potty train, helped teach her to read, would make dinners, put her to bed. I was always there—with Dean—when she wasn’t. I know I’ll never be her mom. Hell, I may never be Dean’s wife, but they are my family! Peyton or no Peyton.”

  “Okay, okay. Sorry.” Gini raises her hands in defense. “I'm just worried about you.”

  Stealing a quick breath, I calm myself knowing I'm not mad at her, but at this whole messed up situation. One that I put myself into, not fully realizing the ramifications. “I know you are. I'm sorry for snapping at you. I'm just confused myself.”

  So fucking confused.

  “That's why you need someone like me to talk to. Listen, let's get to class, and tomorrow night I'm taking you out to the Alpha Pi party. It’s this huge event, and you need to let your hair down. Maybe you can act your age.”

  “I act my age,” I scoff.

  “Yeah, okay.” Gini rolls her eyes. “But you haven't been out in forever. It'll help you think.”

  “Fine.” It does sound like fun to go to a party with people my age. The last time I was out was with some of Dean’s friends in one of their basements as they drank beer.

  “Good. I'll call you later with more details. Now let's get to class.”

  “Lola!” my name is called from behind me as I make my way to my car through the college lot. “Lola, wait.” I spin around, to see Peyton come running at me. She's impeccably dressed in a tight grey pencil skirt and white blouse.

  For a second, I stare at her and admire her like I used to when she was my teacher. When I looked up to her. Before I learned who she really was behind the teacher mask.

  Before I found myself attracted to her husband's cock.

  But what the hell is she doing here? She's miles away from North High where she's supposed to be.

  “Um, hi, Mrs. Goodwin,” I cringe inwardly saying her married name. Peyton never approved of me being on a first name basis with her or Dean. “Funny seeing you here.”

  “Yeah, I was meeting with one of my friends who is a professor here. Then I saw you walking on my way to my car and wanted to say hi. I haven't seen you in forever. I was at your house yesterday, but you were cooped in your room.”

  “I was studying. I have a huge test coming up.”

  I should've been studying, but instead, I had been creeping on the stairs listening to her babble on to my mother about my man.

  “It's hard to believe you're a college girl. Seems only last year you were taking my junior English class.” She sighs dramatically and touches my cheek.

  “Time flies, I guess.” I shrug, tucking a hair behind my ear. I’m not sure if this whole situation could get any more awkward.

  “Georgia tells me you still babysit? And still come over from time to time?”

  “Yeah. I like to help out when I can. And Mr. Goodwin still can't cook worth a lick, so I help out there…” I ramble. I hate how nervous she makes me, even after all these years.

  I hate that there is still a part of me that wants to impress her like when I was fifteen.

  Will that ever go away?

  “Well, maybe you can come over to my place when I have Georgia too. Dean shouldn't get to hog you all to himself.”

  “Um, yeah sure.”

  What the fuck am I saying?

  “Well, hopefully, all this back and forth for Georgia won't be for too much longer. I think I'm finally making some headway with Dean and we might be working things out.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah.” She smiles brightly and touches my arm. “I don't know why I ever pushed him away. But we’re going to get there and fix this. Georgia needs both of us, right?”

  I nod, feeling as if I've been kicked in the gut.

  Now it's as if I had Homewrecker stamped across my forehead. I can hear Gini, my mother... saying ‘I told you so.’

  “We love each other,” she goes on, and I realize I drifted away and didn't even hear half of what else she had been saying. “We were college sweethearts, but you knew that.” I nod again, my stomach twisting in knots and my coffee turning. “This is a rough patch, but maybe we needed the break to find ourselves, to find each other so that we can get stronger,” Peyton adds firmly, and I wonder if she’s trying to convince me or herself.

  “Right.” I shift awkwardly on my feet, looking at my car, wanting to make a getaway.

  “I'm sorry, sweetie. I shouldn't be pouring this on you.”

  “It's okay,” I try to shake off the discomfort piling in my belly. “But I do need to be going.”

  I need to go pick up Georgia at school in twenty minutes. Though as I stand in front of her mother, I do wonder why she isn’t offering to do it herself. Or if she even knows it’s something I do twice a week for Dean.

  “Of course. It is good seeing you, Lola. I do hope I will see more of you.”

  “Yeah, hopefully.” I plaster on a fake smile as she pulls me into a hug. I awkwardly pat her on the back. I can count on one hand how many times I’ve hugged her, so this is extremely out of character. She might have liked me once upon a time, but hugging isn’t her thing.

  She didn’t even hug her daughter that much—and I don’t think I ever saw her hug Dean.

  With one last goodbye, Peyton walks off, and I slide into my Honda Accord. I turn over the engine and throw my head back against the headrest.

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  I never thought our relationship would ever be more than hot sex and sin. But lust turned to love quick, and it hasn’t stopped burning since he told me those earth-shattering words; I love you. Now I’m in too deep, suffocating with how much I love Dean.

  I just don't know if I have the strength to hold on with the looming past always hanging around wanting back in.

  In a way, she has no business trying to come back into Dean’s life. I want Peyton out of the picture—where she is no longer the official wife to my man…cause boy, would that take so much of the weight of the dirty secrets off my shoulder.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  LOLA

  If there is one person who can cheer me up and make everything with Dean and Peyton worthwhile, it’s Georgia. Her little giggles, always happy smile, and vibrant, bubbly personality can make any miserable day bright again. I will do anything for this little girl. Move heaven and earth to make sure she is happy. When I first took the job, this little thing looked up at me with her bright blue eyes and instantly wrapped me around her tiny finger. She clung to me in her mother's absence, and it is easy to think of her as my own.

  Yes, it’s silly to think that way, and maybe somewhat twisted, but how could I not? I know what it’s like to have a parent abandon you.

  Two and a half years I've been here being a better caretaker. I gave up so much of my teen years so that I could be around because Dean was hardly functioning with that crazy bitch doing god knows what.

  “Lola!” Georgia claps her hands in front of my face, pulling me from my wandering thoughts. We’re both on our hands and knees in the living room playing with her toy horses. I have the brown and white one, and I’m supposed to be making ‘naying’ noises and galloping it around the floor.

  “Sorry bug, I spaced out.”

  “It's okay. Mom does that a lot too,” she says nonchalantly, as her horse goes galloping through the air.

  Great. The last thing I ever want is to be compared to Peytonisms.

  Grabbing my horse again, I join her flying it through the air when someone grabs me at my mid-section and roars.

  I scream in response, jumping ten feet in the air and send my horse across the room. Behind me, Dean is cracking up, and I'm tempted to kick him in the balls and blame it on my fright.

  The bastard.

  “What is wrong with you?” I turn, whacking him in the leg instead. “You scared the crap out of me.” My heart is pumping out of my chest. “I'm too young to have a heart attack!”
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  “I'm sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” He smirks and licks his lips. His eyes telling me there's so much more he wants to say, but little ears detour him from his colorful vocabulary. I'm sure.

  And speaking of little ears.

  Georgia is laughing up a storm and rolling around on the floor.

  “I'm so glad you find it funny, bug.”

  “Daddy got you good,” she squeals as I go to tickle her side.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah,” she screeches even louder when Dean gets in on the act. She curls into a ball, but her little legs are flailing as she tries to fight us off, laughing uncontrollably.

  I wish Gini could see this, so she can see these little moments that make us a family. There are so many happy moments with us. We're strong. Isn't that what counts?

  “Stop, stop,” Georgia begs for mercy through her giggles.

  “I heard more? Did you hear more?” Dean looks at me with a raised eyebrow, but I give in to her desperate pleas and stop tickling her.

  “Daddy, no more,” she pants, trying to catch her breath.

  “Alright. You won this time.” Dean helps her to her feet, her blonde hair is a static mess, and I smooth it out for her. “Hey, why don't you go wash up for dinner?”

  “Okay.” She goes running off, and Dean gives me a hand to help me off the floor.

  “I'm sorry I scared you.” He grabs me around the waist and pulls me into his chest.

  “No, you’re not.”

  “You’re right. I'm not. The opportunity was too good to miss out on. Your cute little ass pointing out, wiggling, begging for me to grab it. Trust me, there was a lot more I wanted to do.” He grabs a handful of my ass, and his lips descend on the side of my neck. The scruff of his beard tickles, making goosebumps rise on my skin. “Especially after you taking advantage of me last night.”

  “I did not take advantage,” I scoff. “I believe it was all very much wanted. At least in your drunk subconscious.” I blush and I chew on the corner of my lip. A tiny bit of guilt rising in my belly. “If I had known you were that far gone I wouldn't...” I'm cut off when he silences me with his mouth. This kiss sucks the oxygen from my lungs and making my legs turn to jello. When he pulls back, I'm left in a daze

  What were we talking about again?

  He pushes one of my loose, stubborn strands back. “Lo, you can do that whenever you want.”

  “We should get dinner ready.” I push out from his hold. It’s like I’ve been hit with a bucket of ice water, as I remember what made me do what I did to him last night; Peyton’s invasion.

  I move to the counter and pull the styrofoam cartons out of the large brown bag trying to give me a second before I unload my thoughts. “By the way, I ran into your wife today. She wanted to tell me how you and she are working things over.”

  “Lo, that's not true. You know that.” He inches in closer to me where I can feel his hot breath on my skin.

  “She seems convinced otherwise. I don't understand, Dean. What is going on? Months ago, I wouldn't ever believe this, but now.” I sigh and flip open the lid of the white container revealing our Italian take out from my favorite restaurant; Luigi's. The smell of chicken and alfredo makes my mouth water.

  God, I’ve been starving all day despite eating breakfast and lunch. I feel like lately all I want to do is eat.

  “And now what?” Dean coaxes, running his hand down my cheek.

  “I don't know. She wants you and wants your family together…” He smirks, placing his finger to my lips.

  “There's just one problem. You're my family now.” He kisses my cheek and runs his hand down my body, pulling me closer. “The only one I want. I don't care how many times I have to tell you till you get it through your head, but I will. I love—”

  “Daddy!” Georgia cries. The sound of her little feet hit the hardwood as she rounds the corner.

  “I guess you'll need to hold that thought.”

  His forehead falls to mine with a groan, but he sneaks a quick kiss to my lips as Georgia makes her grand appearance into the room.

  “My hands are all clean.” She waves her tiny hands around in front of us. I step out of Dean's hold and back to the food.

  “Yeah, those look pretty squeaky clean. Go sit down, and I'll plate you up some of my gourmet meal I slaved over all day.”

  “Daddy, you can't cook.” Georgia giggles and goes to the table.

  “No, but I pick up a mean takeout.”

  “You're hopeless.” I grin, as I pull out the plates from the top of the cabinet. “Maybe I should get you some cooking lessons for Christmas this year. Like a trained chef to come in and teach you a few things. God knows you'll need it when I'm not around.”

  “Well, it's a good thing I don't plan for you to go anywhere.” He takes the plates from me and kisses my cheek. “I'm going to get it through your head sooner or later.”

  The table is set, and we dig into our food, as Georgia babbles on about her day. The simple life of kindergarten; finger painting, singing songs, and recess. I’d go back in a second, compared to all the drama going on in my life right now in this damn adult world nobody warned me about.

  “Lola, can you be a chaperone on my field trip next week to the zoo?”

  “Me?” I rasp out, shocked. She wants me to take her on her field trip? Me? “Wait, what about Daddy?”

  “Daddy has to work,” she says simply, rolling her fettuccine noodles around her fork. I want to ask about her mother, but I bite my tongue.

  I glance over at Dean, asking silently if it will be okay. He smiles, giving me a nod telling me yes. I smile back over at her, warmth filling my heart. “Sure. As long as I don’t have a test or anything that day it should be fine. When is it?”

  “Next, next Thursday.”

  “Okay, I’ll check my agendas and get back to you. I love the zoo. Remember when we went a couple of months ago and saw the lions?”

  “Yeah, and they were fighting over the ball.” She giggles.

  That giggle is what makes it all worth it. My mother once said it reminded her of mine.

  I don’t hear it, but I’ll take it because it makes me feel even more connected to her.

  “So, I was thinking of shaving my beard. What do you think?” Dean says, breaking the silence that has fallen over the table.

  I drop my fork to my plate and gape at him. Dean has had a beard for as far as I can remember. I've always found it sexy and can't imagine him without one. “Why?”

  “I don't know. Something different—younger.” He smirks and runs his hands through his beard, making a little motion as if he’s pondering something. The move always instantly makes me wet.

  I squirm in my seat, and I shouldn't be picturing how it feels between my legs with Georgia beside me. “I like it,” I mumble.

  “You do?” He smirks.

  “Yeah.”

  “It doesn't tickle?”

  I glance over at Georgia who is distracted by shoving her dinner into her face, then turn back at him, shaking my head. “You're horrible.”

  Underneath the table, he grabs my hand and squeezes it. He stares at me with his crystal blues, making me a delicious promise for later. My cheeks are on fire, and I wiggle in my seat, feeling mildly uncomfortable knowing he's making me wet at the dinner table.

  I could kill him for it. But the thrill turns me on even more.

  “Doesn't answer the question though. Don't you think if I shave it, I'll look younger?”

  “You know I don't care about that,” I whisper, leaning closer to him and brush my fingers through his beard.

  “That's right, you like older men, don’t you?”

  “Only you.”

  The doorbell rings, pulling me away from him and our flirting. Good thing, because we were getting a bit carried away in front of Georgia.

  “Can I get it?” Georgia perks up, throwing her fork down to her plate.

  “No. You stay. You know better than to answer the door
when we don’t know who it is.” Dean pushes back his chair and stands up. My eyes follow him to the front door, wondering who it could be. When he opens the door, my heart drops when Peyton’s voice rings through the house.

  “What are you doing here?” Dean grits out angrily.

  “I thought we could talk some more.”

  “Peyton, you can’t just drop by whenever you want.” I hear the irritation in his voice, and just like that, the good mood is ruined.

  “What else can I do when you don't answer my phone calls to talk so we can set up a time? Plus, I want to see Georgia.”

  “Now isn’t the time, Peyton.” Dean raises his voice and appears to be pushing Peyton back out the door. Though, she’s not having it.

  “We are still married, Dean. Married couples talk. Work through things. Spend time together.”

  “For Christ sakes. What don’t you get…”

  “I don’t like it when they fight,” Georgia whispers and moves her food around on her plate.

  “I know.” I try to soothe her, “and you shouldn’t have to hear it, GG.” I sigh. Dean of all people should know better than to argue in front of his daughter.

  Then again, has Peyton left him much choice? What the hell does she think just showing up now?

  Like call first at least. Warn somebody.

  “Why don't me and you go downstairs?” I take her hand and help her up from her seat. We move around the corner, and I open the door leading to the basement. I flick on the light, illuminating the finished white walls and white carpet that lead to Dean’s ‘man cave’ slash exercise room. There’s a small gray couch in the middle of the room, and we go sit down. I place my arm around her and pull her into my side, and she slides her arms around my waist.

  “You do know what is going on upstairs isn't about you, right?”

  “I do,” she says softly, hiding her head against my shoulder.

  “Good. Because they both love you so much and just because they argue doesn't change that.”

  She looks up at me, biting her little lip. “Do you love me?”

  My heart melts into a wet pile of goo. I smile and push her blonde hair back from her face and then untuck her teeth. “Of course, I do, bug. With all my heart. You're my sidekick.”