Straddling The Edge

by Julie Prestsater

  “Wanna make some babies?” He flutters his brows.

  “I’m not ready to be a mom just yet. But I wouldn’t mind getting some practice in.”

  He smiles. “That works. Let’s go talk to my boys.”

  “Wait, didn’t you have something you wanted to talk to me about?”

  “It can wait.” He pushes his body into mine. “I think we have more pressing matters to tend to.”

  I arch a brow at him. “And that matter is getting bigger by the moment.”

  Chapter 19

  Summer

  “Are you nervous?” I ask Dean as we get ready for today’s visitors. He’s standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, a towel hanging low on his waist. I have to remind myself to breathe when we get ready together. I could watch his naked body move swiftly through the room all day long and never get tired of staring.

  “Not at all,” he says, cleaning up the lines of his thin beard with a razor. “If you survived my parents, I’m pretty sure I can handle yours.”

  “Keep telling yourself that. My parents are just as … quirky.”

  “That’s one way to describe my mom and dad.” He finishes shaving and comes over to stand behind me. “I love these goofy braids.”

  “Goofy?” I frown.

  “Yes. Goofy. And cute. I love your playful side and these scream play with me.” He tugs on each of my loosely tied braids and kisses the top of my head. “And if we had more time, I’d do just that.”

  “Later,” I tell him, reaching for my mascara.

  “Count on it.” He bends down and places a soft kiss on my bare shoulder before leaving the bathroom.

  Since there’s a ball game on, I decide to keep it simple and fix a small nacho bar. Tortilla chips, nacho cheese, sour cream, guacamole, refried beans, and shredded chicken. Before you say that doesn’t sound simple, let me clarify. I never have to turn on the stove since everything comes ready made from a package of some sort.

  “They’re here,” Dean calls out when we hear a knock at the door. He doesn’t seem fazed one bit. One of the many things I love about him. “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. McGallian, come on in.” He swings his arm out, gesturing for them to enter.

  I come out of the kitchen just as they step over the threshold. “Hi, Mom. Dad.” I go to them and give them each a long tight hug. We come from a family of huggers. Not the fake, pat on the shoulder with your butt sticking out kind of hug, but a nice hearty full embrace with arms wrapped around each other. That’s one of the things I noticed right away about Lucy, Dean’s mom. She knows how to hug. “This is Dean.”

  My dad offers his hand, “Nice to meet you, son. It’s taken long enough. When are you going to make an honest woman out of my daughter?”

  “Dad!” I squeal. “Come on. I told you guys to behave.”

  Dean takes my dad’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you too, sir. That’s probably something I should talk to you about. Soon.” The fact that he didn’t shy away from my dad’s blunt force demands is not lost on me. And did he really say soon?

  “Call me, Pete,” Dad says, pumping his hand up and down. I know he’s giving him one of those Jedi mind messages … fuck with my daughter and you’re dead.

  “Well, don’t hog the father of my grandbabies, Pete. I’d like to meet him too.”

  “Mother!” With the palm of my fist smashed to my forehead, I shake my head. Is it over yet? Dean’s parents are newborn puppies compared to these bulldozing St. Bernards.

  She steps between my dad and Dean and puts her hands to her mouth. “Oh my, Summer. This man is absolutely stunning. If your dad wasn’t such as fantastic roll in the hay, I might have to fight you for him.”

  “Stop. Just stop.”

  Dean is smiling like a Cheshire cat, definitely amused by my oh-so-inappropriate parents. “Why thank you, Mrs. McGallian. I’m flattered.”

  “Quit with the mister and missus bologna. I’m Annie … nice to meet you, Dean.” She hugs him tight, holding on a bit longer than I like. “Oh, and he’s a firm one too. You lucky doll you. No wonder you haven’t let us meet him until now. You were keeping this stallion all to yourself.”

  “All right, all right. Enough with the introductions. Come in and grab your food, the game is about to start.” Thank God. Maybe some nachos will shut them up long enough for me to recover from the embarrassment.

  Mom and Dean chatter away to the kitchen, and my dad holds me back. “Well, honey, he didn’t bolt already so that’s a good sign.”

  “If I were him, I’d kick your asses out.” I know I’m not one to curse, but these crazy people bring it on. “So what did you think? He’s pretty damn amazing, huh?”

  “He handled my question fairly well. And if I’m not mistaken, he was quite serious about that talk. My baby might be getting herself hitched sometime soon.”

  “Maybe.”

  “Well, I can tell it’s the real deal, honey. The way he looked at you when you walked into the room made me the happiest dad alive. Every daddy wants their daughter to be looked at with such love and affection. And he sure does love you, doesn’t he?”

  Tears sting my eyes. It makes me so happy to hear my dad say these things. To know that he can see what I feel every time Dean looks at me. “He does, Daddy. He really does.”

  We’re all lounging around, chomping away, and chatting between innings. The Dodgers are winning. My parents like Dean. Dean likes my parents. What more could I ask for?

  During the seventh inning stretch, my dad answers that question.

  “So I hear you’re an Angel fan,” Dad says to Dean.

  “Yes, sir. Born and raised.” He stands, walks over to his fireplace mantle, and brings back a framed picture for my dad to see. “That was taken when I was five. It’s the first game I actually remember going to even though I had been many times before.”

  “That’s nice,” Dad says before passing the picture on to my mom.

  “I think it’s kind of cool that Summer has the same picture. But hers is at Dodger Stadium, of course.” I remember the first time Dean saw that picture of me and my parents. He had this wild smile spread across his face. He just shook his head in awe and told me how crazy it was that we both had the same memento that was so special to us.

  Dad rubs the back of his head. “I can’t believe my future son-in-law is an Angel fan. It hurts,” he says with so much drama you’d think he was starring in a Broadway play.

  Mom hands Dean the photo back. “Could be worse … he could be a Giant’s fan.”

  We all wince, murmurs of disgust trailing through the air.

  When the game is over, my mom helps me clean up and wash dishes, even though I protest. “All kidding aside, he’s really great honey,” she says, as she dries the utensils.

  “He makes me happy, Mom. More than I ever thought I could be.”

  “You ladies done talking about me?” Dean struts in with my dad.

  “How do you know we were talking about you?” I ask.

  My dad rubs his belly. “I told him we needed to give your mom a couple minutes to give you the green light.”

  “How do you know she didn’t give me the red light and tell me to run like hell?” I try to do my best to keep a straight face but it doesn’t work.

  Dean lifts his arm and curls it around my shoulder. “Sweetheart, your mom gave me the green light before the game even started.”

  Mel called this morning to invite Dean and me to a party. It’s at our colleague’s house. I wasn’t so sure I wanted to go. I really don’t feel like answering questions about why Chase and I broke up, and why so suddenly I have a new man—one that happens to be another teacher at our school. As if the rumors weren’t bad before now, they’ll be even worse. As if it isn’t bad enough that the staff thought I was having an affair with one of my dad’s friends, now they’re going to think I was the one cheating since I have a new guy so soon.

  “Fuck ‘em,” Mel had said when I expressed my concern. As always, the answer to al
l her worries. Fuck ‘em. I should try telling someone that some time. I bet it feels good. Mel always seems so at ease, without a worry in the world, especially now that her baby girl is calling her name and crawling all over the floor. Noah crawls too, although his is more of an Army crawl, all elbows, dragging his body behind him. It’s super cute, especially when they’re together. It’s like watching two puppies rolling around together and playing tag.

  So, fuck ‘em. We’re going to the party and who gives a shit what anyone has to say. Chase is gone and I couldn’t care less. His ass has been scarce lately, thankfully. I’ve finally stopped holding my breath every time I come home. For so long, I feared seeing him on my doorstep again. He finally took the hint, I guess. And now … I have Dean, and we couldn’t be happier. The man is pure gorgeous perfection, with the voice of a God, and the heart of a romance novel hero. Totally. Swoonworthy!

  “Good book?” Dean asks. I look up at him, over my reading glasses. “You’re smiling at the pages.”

  I can feel my cheeks get hot. “I am?”

  “You always do that. I love it. You get so into it. I can tell when something good is happening and you can’t turn the pages fast enough.” He grasps my foot in his hands and starts massaging my arch. This is routine for us, we sit on the couch together, while I read a book and he plays a video game or watches home improvement shows on the tube. Sometimes I lie down with my head in his lap, or like now, my legs are stretched out and my feet rest on his thighs.

  “How do you know?” I ask.

  He chuckles. “You start bouncing your knee or wagging your foot back and forth in suspense.” Hmm. Maybe there’s something to that. “I can tell when it’s a romantic scene too.” I raise a brow at him. “You take longer breaths and clinch your thighs together.” Oh my. My cheeks are on fire. “No need to blush. I like it. It’s a warning that I’m going to benefit from whatever you’re reading.”

  “Stop!” I cry out, tossing a pillow at his head.

  But he doesn’t. “And then there are those times when you’re smiling at a book and I know the couple finally got their happily ever after.”

  “Well, this time you were wrong.” I cross my arms over my chest, narrowing my eyes at him, attempting to be playful.

  “Oh really. Why were you smiling then?”

  I don’t answer right away. He shakes my foot, trying to get my attention and coaxing me to answer. “I was daydreaming.” I pause. “About you.” He begins working miracles on my feet again. “You make me smile.”

  “I do what I can,” he says, with a chuckle.

  “How about I try to make you smile? Or bounce your knee, wag your foot. Or even better.” I stand and hold out my hand to him. “Let’s go get ready for the party. We’re going to need some extra time. I plan on making you breathless.”

  We’re a couple hours into the party and we’re having a good time. The chatter flows as freely as the beer. Now that Daddy Gelson is out of the woods, Shel and Ty are finally letting loose and enjoying themselves. It was a little nerve wracking for a while there, but his doctor has assured the family that his heart was just giving him a warning. Mel’s mom is back in town so she has the babies. It seems as if all the other moms are taking advantage of the adults’ only night.

  These women can drink.

  And they’re teachers! Oh my God, the horror!

  Lawyers can drink. Doctors can drink. Cops can drink. But for some reason, people think that teachers should be devoid of sex, alcohol, and curse words. How sweet of them.

  It’s kind of funny to walk around and listen to the conversations. You can totally tell who works with us and who the spouses are. No matter how much we try and turn it off after hours or during the summer, our discussions always come back to work. Who is teaching AP next year? Which students drove you crazy last year? Who is getting paid the same as everyone else and doesn’t do shit? And then there are those dreadful convos about standardized testing and merit pay.

  “I’ll vote for merit pay when I get to choose my students,” one teacher says and I agree. Last year, the week before testing, I was in a parent conference for a student who refused to come to school and when he did, he’d sit in the back of the room with his hood over his head and not do a damn thing. No matter how much I tried to engage him, he’d just glare at me and pretend to work. What’s worse is that his mom admitted to letting him smoke weed at home as long as he bought it himself. She went on to say that if he didn’t want to go to school, it was his choice. I’m not a violent person but I really wanted to jump over the table and smack her. And effing politicians want to base my pay on students like him with mothers like that. Uh. Yeah. No thank you.

  “Need a refill?” Dean asks, waving a bottle of orange wheat beer in front of me.

  I take the last sip of my current brew and switch it out. “Thank you.”

  “Having fun?”

  I look around at all the groups of people, shouting, laughing, some dancing, and say, “Yeah. This is pretty fun. You?”

  “Yeah. I’ve never been to one of these things before. But now that I’m in with the in-crowd,” he hangs his air quotes, “I’m finally invited.”

  “Don’t consider me part of that crowd either. I have a feeling we got the invite because of Melissa and Shelly.”

  He shrugs. “Who cares? It’s nice to be out with friends, and with my sweetheart, having a good time and good beer.”

  I tilt my head and pucker my lips to him. “Yes, it is.” He leans in the rest of the way and smooches my lips with a loud smacking sound.

  “Hey, Dean. Get your ass over here. I want you to back my story about the fight our football team got into your freshmen year,” Ty calls out.

  “Go on,” I tell him. “I’m going to go dance with the girls.”

  “I’d rather watch you dance,” he says, squeezing my hip.

  “Later, honey. I’ll dance just for you.”

  He waggles his brows, kisses my forehead and then is off to talk about the good ol’ days with Tyler.

  I decide to use the facilities before I head out to dance. I made the mistake of breaking the seal earlier and now my bladder feels like the size of a jelly bean. I have to pee twice for every beer I drink. And that’s not even an exaggeration. When I walk outside the restroom, I trip into a wall … a wall that is Chase Marino. Dammit.

  “It’s about time Dean left your side. What’s he afraid of? That you’ll run into me and want back into my arms,” he sneers, “and my bed.”

  “Back off, Chase.”

  He takes a deep breath. “Wait, I need to talk to you.” I try to step around him, but he pins me against the wall. “Summer, I still love you. I know I messed up but I want you back. I need you back. I messed up with Shelly too, but I was never willing to fight for her. I’m willing to fight for you. I’ll fight to get you back. I want to show you I can be a better man.”

  I put my hand on his chest to push him back. “It’s too late for that. I’m not interested.” He doesn’t budge.

  “Don’t be like this, Summer. I’m giving you the chance to have me back. Don’t ruin it.”

  I have to hold back laughter. Maybe later, when I’m alone, I can crack up at the thought. He’s giving me a chance. How nice of him. “Still not interested.” He doesn’t move. “Here’s the deal. You have two seconds to let me pass before I scream my lungs out and call the police. One … two.”

  He backs off and lets me through. Good thing too because I was totally serious. I don’t give a shit what kind of commotion I would’ve caused. Fuck ‘em, like Mel said. Fuck Chase.

  I weave through the house, dodging people along the way to find Dean. I think it’s time for us to leave.

  “Hey, Summer. How’s it going?” Jamie says, wobbling on her heels. She’s a fellow science teacher and weighs about a hundred pounds. She’s a total lightweight who can’t even drink one beer without getting wasted.

  “Hey, how are you? Let’s get you to a seat.” As much as I’d like to
find Dean and go home, Jamie needs me more.

  “That sounds really good,” she says, slurring her words together. “I think I need to rest.”

  I see her to the living room and sit her down on a small wingback chair. Her head whips back and her eyes flutter closed. Well, that wasn’t so bad. I try turning her head to the side to keep her airway open. I watch her for a few minutes just to make sure she’s not going to vomit or sit up and take off somewhere. When I’m convinced she’s passed out for the night, I continue my search for my boyfriend.

  But instead, I find Shelly … and Chase.

  Chapter 20

  Shelly

  “You have got to be kidding me? Do you realize that I am happily married? My husband is right outside and our son is at his grandmother’s house. Are you fucking out of your damn mind?” I raise my hand to stop my shithead of an ex from talking. I came into the formal living room looking for a quiet secluded place to call and check on Noah, and this is what I have to deal with.

  But he doesn’t take the hint. How did I not know he is this stupid? “Shelly, come on. I know I screwed up but you can’t just throw away ten years together. I’m sorry I didn’t fight for you then, but I’m here now. That has to mean something.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. Is he high? “No, actually it doesn’t. It doesn’t mean shit. It wouldn’t have then either. You’re a piece of shit. A sorry excuse for a man. You should really go home and think about what you’re going to do with yourself.” I look him over. He’s still wearing the blingy shirts which I came to find out had nothing to do with Summer. She detests them as much as I do. “This whole thing you have going here is not working for you.”

  “Shell Bell,” he whines.

  I laugh again. “You’re killing me. You’re so stupid. It’s moved beyond sad and straight to stand-up comedy.”

  He reaches out to take my hand, and I swat it away. He tries again and this time, he catches my wrist and wraps his fingers tightly around it. This son of a bitch is about to get a knee to the balls.