Balance Check

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Balance Check Page 9

by M. E. Carter


  “Don’t be afraid of falling, Elena. I’ll always be here to catch you.”

  My phone rings in my purse, breaking our moment. He squeezes my shoulder and says, “Maybe it’s time to move forward with Callie too.”

  Glancing at my phone, sure enough, that’s who is calling. “How did you know it was her?”

  “Lucky guess,” he shrugs. “Plus, she’s been texting me non-stop since Saturday because you haven’t been taking her calls. She’s really upset over this.”

  “She is, or you are because you’ve had to put up with her crazy?”

  He laughs. “She is.”

  “She should be.” I say it like an unfeeling bad ass, but I’m not fooling either of us. I miss my best friend as much as she misses me. Now that I’ve licked my wounds and worked things out with Greg, it’s time to let Callie make amends.

  Ok, ok. I should probably make some, too.

  One last squeeze of my shoulder and he walks away, leaving me to have this conversation privately. Well, as privately as you can get in the middle of an open gym.

  “Hello?” I answer.

  “Oh, thank God,” she bursts out. “I thought you were never going to talk to me again.”

  I bite back a giggle. And Greg says I’m overdramatic.

  “Obviously I was going to talk to you again, you goof. I just needed a balance check.”

  “A what?”

  “Never mind.” I wave her off like she can see me even though she’s on the phone. What can I say… I’m a hand talker. “I had to sort a few things out.”

  “Oooh! Did you sort them out with Greg?”

  Her comment makes this giggle come out. I’m not at all surprised her main concern would be whether or not Greg and I are back together. Which we are. I think.

  “Yeah, we sorted things out. For the most part. Now that you say that, I may need to clarify this with him because we never got that far in our conversations.”

  Huh. The last few days we’ve shared a lot of “I love you’s” and a lot of kisses. But we’ve never actually said, “So we’re back together again.” Looks like we’ll be having another serious conversation soon.

  “Pfft.” I can almost hear Callie’s hand waving around this time. “That man is so head over heels. You don’t even need to talk about it. It’s obvious.”

  “Maybe to you.”

  “Of course to me. You should have seen him when you left the park.” I get a twinge in my gut at her reminder of the fall out. “He jumped up so fast to chase you, I thought his butt was on fire.”

  “Yeah, he was pretty great that day,” I admit, picking an invisible piece of lint off the pants Callie gave me at the last party. I like them. They’re fitted in all the right places, but don’t look overly sexy. Just my style.

  The silence on the other end of the line tells me she’s trying to figure out exactly what to say, which is funny since she’s had days to decide. But I know she’ll comment when she’s ready, so I don’t push it. I’ve got nowhere else to be.

  Finally, she speaks. “I’m sorry, Elena. I should have said something to Deborah. I should have stood up for you and I didn’t.”

  This right here is why she’s my best friend. She’s not perfect, none of us are. But when she’s wrong, when she knows she hurt me, even inadvertently, she’s the first to own up to it. It kills her when she hurts people. That’s how big her heart is. And her heart is what I love most about her.

  “You should have,” I respond. “But I get it. RowRow isn’t a hobby for you. You are running a legitimate business and you’re in a precarious situation, you know?”

  “Yeah. I know. It’s why I’m not really sure what to do in this situation. She’s already so close that if I cut her out, I’m afraid of the backlash.”

  I take a deep breath, because I have to make this easy on her. Well, easier than it could be. So I bite my tongue from what the vindictive part of me wants, and say what the adult part of me knows is right.

  “Look, you have to work with her. I get that. But I don’t.” Looking up, I see Greg watching me. He winks, giving me the support I didn’t even realize I needed to have this conversation. “I’m not asking you to choose. I’m really not. But I’m asking you not to share any part of my life with her. I’m sure she’s a nice person, but you know how long it’s taken me to feel good about myself again. I’m not going to let someone take that away from me again. Not even for your business.”

  “I would never ask that of you,” she responds. “I thought Deborah was one thing, but once I really went over the scene in my head, I realized she’s not at all who I thought she was.”

  “Most people aren’t. Why do you think my only friend is you?”

  We both laugh, knowing that statement is more than a joke. People really do suck half the time.

  “I love you, Callie,” I say, feeling overly sentimental like I always do after fighting with someone I love. “That isn’t going to change because you have shitty colleagues.”

  We laugh again, because humor is what we do.

  “Well, I won’t make you hang out with those colleagues again.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Anything for you. No matter who else comes along, you’ll always be my BFF.”

  I smile at the endearment. “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  I feel really light and free in this moment. I took the balance check I needed, made the adjustment necessary, and moved on. It feels good. And it’s nice knowing this time, I’m not going to fall.

  Elena is not one to jump into the important things without really thinking them through. Not disciplining the girls. Not big purchases. Not relationships.

  Maybe she was more impulsive before I met her. But years of getting screwed over has made her leery and less trusting. I don’t fault her for that. In a weird way, I kind of like that she didn’t even trust me until I really proved myself. What can I say, I’m a man. I enjoy the chase sometimes.

  Although, lately there’s been less chase and more leaning on each other for support. It started when Elena’s mom got the flu and couldn’t watch Max for a couple of weeks. Callie offered to take over, but it didn’t make much sense to force Max out of bed that early every morning, so I started coming over before Elena went to work. I enjoyed the bonding time with Max and it gave me a chance to get a few things done around her house—like oiling the squeaky closet door and patching the hole in Maura’s room that was left over from when she had a raging fit and threw a tiara across the room. The girl may be a princess, but she’s got an amazing pitching arm.

  As if that wasn’t big enough, James decided their custody agreement wasn’t working for them. Something about being locked into certain weekends every month with his kids. So, because Elena is kind like that, they switched to him seeing the girls every other weekend. At first, we didn’t think much about it. But then Elena sat down and did the math and we realized the change means he spends even less time with the girls.

  We still can’t figure out if he knew that when he made the switch, but it seems awfully coincidental the request came on the heels of two weekend visits, back to back. The girls aren’t rambunctious, but they’re constant energy. If James’s new wife Keri likes sleeping in on weekends and sipping coffee while reading the newspaper, she had parenting all wrong.

  After we realized the time frames, Callie, Elena and I wagered on what his next move will be. Yes, actual wagers with money and our John Hancock’s on the betting page. Inappropriate? Maybe. But making light of the situation seems to be a better tactic than letting it cause everyone distress. So we just go with it. I’m now hoping to win a Ben Franklin from Callie when something “comes up at work” and James starts picking them up on Saturdays mornings instead of Friday night. That’s always the way it goes, right?

  On the one hand, it’s sad that James is seeing the girls less and less. What kind of father does that? On the other, at least he’s phasing out gradually instead of disappearing suddenly.
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  The only advantage to all the changes is our weekends overlap sometimes. Instead of me having Peyton when the girls are with James, they’re either all with us or all gone.

  This is one of the “all gone” weekends. And I’m taking advantage of it.

  “Where are you taking me?” Elena asks with a smile. We’ve been driving for close to an hour, but I haven’t said a word about where we’re headed.

  “On a date.”

  She punches my arm lightly. “You’re still not going to tell me? It’s getting more and more rural out there. How do I know you’re not taking me somewhere to get rid of me?”

  “First of all, if I got rid of you, who would take care of the girls during the week while I’m at work? That’s too much coordinating with your mother. Second,” I turn and quirk an eyebrow at her, “I swear if you don’t stop watching the Investigation Channel, I’m going to disable your cable.”

  She gapes at me playfully. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “We’re turning onto a country road now.” I ease the car into the turn lane and take a right. “Swear to me you didn’t just have a passing thought about duct tape and a shovel being in the truck and I’ll let it go.”

  She doesn’t respond and avoids my gaze.

  “Uh huh. That’s what I thought.”

  “Just drive, funny man,” she grumbles. She’s so damn cute when she’s being paranoid. I can’t help myself when I reach over and grab her hand, bringing her knuckles to my lips.

  “I’ve only been back a few weeks. You haven’t driven me to murder quite yet.”

  She snorts a laugh but doesn’t pull away from me, instead watching the scenery out the window as it changes.

  The road in front of us gradually gets less paved and turns more into a gravel road, and eventually a dirt trail emerges as we get closer to our destination. The trees are so dense, we can’t see the sky and the automatic lights on the dash turn on so I can see all the indicators.

  Suddenly, there is a break in the trees and the sky opens up. Elena gasps as the scene unfolds in front of her.

  “Greg,” she breathes, stunned by the view. A small lake is before us, the sun glistening off the water in reds, purples, oranges and yellows, as dusk moves in.

  There’s nowhere to park, just the end of the road, so I stop the car when we get close enough to the water.

  “What is this place?” she asks reverently, her eyes never leaving the landscape as we climb out of the car.

  I smile at her reaction. I was hoping she’d be happy about my surprise. Looks like it’s mission accomplished. “Welcome to Heisner Lake.”

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Grabbing a picnic basket and thick quilt out of the trunk, I take a few minutes to get everything set up while she gazes out at the view. Watching her take in the scene as it unfolds in front of her takes my breath away and it hits me… she’s it for me. She’s the last person I’ll kiss and touch and love. She’s the one who will help me raise my daughter and I’ll take care of her daughters like they are my own. It’s “game over” for me.

  The thought should bring me to my knees, but it doesn’t. It makes my chest swell. It’s not the right time yet. We’ve got lots of things to sort out first, but knowing my future is going to include this woman gives me a sense of peace like I haven’t experienced before.

  Not able to be away from her for one second more, I wrap my arms around her waist and rest my chin on her shoulder. “Come sit with me,” I say quietly in her ear. “I brought wine.”

  She chuckles lightly. “Trying to get me drunk and take advantage of me?”

  “I thought you were a sure thing,” I joke, eliciting a light smack on my arm.

  “Only for you.”

  I take her hand and lead her over to the quilt, pulling out the wine.

  “Food comes later.” I hand her a glass of her favorite Moscato and pour another for myself. “Right now, I want to enjoy the sunset with you.”

  We settle into each other, her back snuggled into my front and watch as the sun continues to throw rays of all different colors across the sky.

  “I think this is the most romantic date we’ve ever been on. What’s the occasion?”

  I kiss the top of her head. “No occasion. We’ve been so busy lately, I wanted to get out in the peace and quiet for a little while.”

  “How’d you find out about this place anyway?”

  Taking a large gulp of my wine, I place the glass on the ground next to us. “A buddy of mine, a coach at a different gym, had a bonfire out here a couple years ago. He owns the property and lets his friends use it to camp or whatever.”

  “I’m surprised he hasn’t built a house on this land.”

  “Too far from town, I think. Plus, he likes the idea of owning some property in a secluded area that developers can’t do anything with. Like he can protect a small piece of nature.”

  “That’s really nice.”

  We lapse into a content silence again as the last of the light fades away. Fortunately, I had the foresight to set up an electric lantern, so all I have to do is click it on. It gives us just enough light to make it seem like we’re in our own little glowing bubble.

  Suddenly overwhelmed with desire for this woman, my hand cups the back of her neck, bringing her to me. As I lean in to take her lips with mine…

  Her stomach growls. Loudly.

  “Ohmygod,” she groans.

  “What is it about me that makes you hungry?”

  She giggles, leaning her forehead on mine. “I think it’s knowing how much energy I’m going to expend later.”

  “So I can get you drunk and take advantage of you tonight.” I kiss her lips lightly and begin to pull away.

  But she pulls me back to her, kissing me deeply. I’m lost in the moment, lost in her lips and her tongue and her taste. She breaks away, breathing heavily. “Who says I have to be drunk for you to get laid?”

  A low growl comes from deep within me and I attack her again, laying her on the ground underneath me as I plunder her mouth with mine. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I recognize her wine glass spilling somewhere, but I don’t care. We’re too busy dry humping like teenagers at the end of a dirt road to care.

  “I love you, Greg,” she whispers, as I kiss behind her ear, down her neck, across her collarbone. “I love you so much.”

  “Love doesn’t even describe what I feel for you.” Nuzzling her breasts, I take one nipple in my mouth through her clothes, biting lightly. I love it when she moans in pleasure.

  But when her stomach expresses other desires, my salacious plans are thwarted and I can’t help but laugh.

  “Why does that always happen at the good part?” she complains as I laugh.

  Patting her hip, I grab her hand and sit us both up. “Come on. Let’s get my woman fed.”

  “I hope you brought hot dogs.” She runs her fingers through her hair, trying to smooth down the wayward strands. It doesn’t work, which I love. Reminds me that I’m the one who messed it up in the first place.

  Flipping the basket open, I figure out quickly where the spilled wine ended up. “Oh shit. Everything is sticky.” She leans over to see what I’m complaining about as I start pulling dinner out.

  Dinner that’s covered in ants.

  “Oh shit. Babe, don’t touch that.”

  She snatches her hand back to her chest like she’s been burned. “Why? What’s wrong.”

  Using the lantern to see inside the basket, I curse. “Son of a bitch. There are ants everywhere.”

  “Are you serious?” She sticks her head so far over, I can’t see into the basket anymore. “How does this shit always happen to us? We haven’t been here that long?”

  “I guess the ants like your favorite wine as much as you do. They followed it straight to the goods.” I make a face as I find most of our dinner devoured. “Hop up. Let’s shake everything out.”

  Instead of spending the next ten minutes eating or making out, both equally ent
icing ideas at this point, we beat out the quilt and empty the basket of all the ruined food. Now I understand why Elena springs for the zip baggies instead of the cheapy fold over ones I use. Maybe dinner would have been saved if I wasn’t such a cheapskate.

  And I still can’t figure out how those bastards got into the Tupperware container of strawberries.

  Once it’s all cleaned out and most of the colony has moved on—thanks to us throwing their meal out in the forest where they can eat without being disturbed—we’re left with half a bottle of wine, one turkey and cheese sandwich, and a whole lot of trash.

  “That didn’t work out as planned,” I say with my hands on my hips, trying to decide if it’s worth making myself comfortable on our blanket again or if we should call it a night. “Remind me never to take you camping.”

  She shrugs, settling herself on the ground. I guess we’re staying. “I’m more of a glamper anyway.”

  “Glamping, huh?” I settle down next to her again and hand her the sandwich. “Like a suped-up RV set up in the woods?”

  “Uh, no.” She takes half the sandwich and hands it back to me. “Like a fully-loaded cabin with bathrooms and A/C on the outskirts of a town that has real restaurants for nourishment.”

  I chuckle and take a bite of my half of dinner. “Noted.”

  We eat in silence for the twelve seconds it takes to get through our remaining food, but we never take our eyes off each other.

  “What?” I finally ask. “Why are you looking at me that way?”

  “You’re a good man, Greg.”

  I smile sheepishly and my face feels hot like I’m blushing. It’s not uncommon for her to compliment me, but somehow being all alone like this makes it feel more personal. And she’s not done.

  “Tonight solidified it for me.”

  I laugh. “Our picnic basket is empty, our dinner has been ransacked, and I barely got to second base. Tonight is bordering on tragic.”

  She throws her head back, letting out a hearty laugh. “But when tragedy strikes, you give up your sandwich for me. I’d say that makes you a keeper.”

 

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