The First Taste (Slip of the Tongue Book 2)

by Jessica Hawkins

  I look out at the buildings surrounding the patio. “She coming?”

  “Yeah. She didn’t tell you?”

  It’s been a week since Amelia left me in the middle of the flea market. Since Shana dropped into my life like a bomb, and Amelia wasn’t around to help pick up the pieces. “Nope.”

  “Ah. How about we go next door and grab a beer when they get here?” Nathan asks. “You can tell me all about it.”

  Sometimes, Nathan’s all-knowingness is helpful, and other times not. I sigh and take a good look around the room at tiny teacups, satin bows, and diaper tower centerpieces. “Uh, yeah. I think I’ll actually head over now.” The prospect of spilling my complicated feelings about Amelia to Nathan appeals to me slightly more than running into her. “I’ll meet you there.”

  “Are you sure? Don’t you want to say hi to Sadie?”

  “I’ll catch her later.” I check on Bell. She’s already chatting up the only other child in the room, who looks a couple years older than her, but who politely listens to Bell ramble on about God knows what. “Poor girl,” I mutter.

  “Don’t say that,” Nate says. “I’m sure she’s put up with worse than you.”

  I arch an eyebrow and turn back to him, but he isn’t looking at Bell. I follow his line of sight. Amelia breezes onto the terrace, reading her watch. She scans the outdoor space and asks the woman nearest her, “Has she arrived?”

  “Not yet,” the woman answers.

  “Good.” She visibly relaxes, but only until her eyes land on me. Tightening her hand around her purse strap, she draws a long breath, her chest expanding. Like the schmuck I am, I look right at her tits. Her neckline plunges enough for me to get an eyeful, and her white dress ties off to one side. She touches a simple silver pendant around her neck, pulling my attention to her collarbone. Every strand of her hair is predictably smoothed into place. I don’t understand how this woman could be the exact opposite of what I want and yet the center of all my fantasies.

  She takes a few steps toward me, and because I don’t need Nathan hanging on our every word, I meet her halfway.

  “I thought this was a girls’ thing,” she says.

  “I got a girl,” I say, nodding at Bell.

  “Oh.” She absentmindedly runs both hands over her dress. “Of course. I didn’t even think—”

  “I tried to get ahold of you.”

  With a sideways glance, she nods once. “I know.”

  “And?”

  “And nothing,” she says. “I don’t have a good excuse.”

  I appreciate her honesty, but then again, me appreciating her honesty is partly what got us into this mess in the first place.

  “I’m glad you’re here, though.” Her eyes soften. “I’ve been working up the courage to call. Is it all right if we talk after this?”

  “We can talk now.” I look over her head instead of into her eyes. I don’t need that mesmerizing blue playing tricks on me. “I went through some shit last week. That’s why I called. I could’ve used someone to talk to.”

  “Someone?” she asks. “Me?”

  “Yeah.” I cross my arms. “I ask you to be my girlfriend, and you respond by ignoring my texts and pawning me off on your receptionist.”

  “What happened?”

  I shake my head. For the last week, I’ve been brooding, worried about what Shana’s presence means, fielding Bell’s equally valid and unnerving questions about her mom. The simplest ones are the most impossible to answer: Where is my mom? Why did she leave? Is she ever coming back? ‘I don’t know,’ is what I wanted to tell her, and basically what I’d said in a lot more words. I’m frustrated Amelia stayed just outside my reach when I could’ve used her comfort.

  That’s a whole week to begin putting my walls back up. “Suddenly I don’t feel like confiding in you.”

  She frowns. “I was going to call. I just needed to get my head on straight.”

  “Is that how you do relationships?” I ask. “Because that doesn’t work for me. I need communication, especially after what I’ve been through.”

  She looks at her hands. “I understand. At first, I didn’t respond because I thought maybe you and I were fooling ourselves to try this. There are so many reasons not to.”

  I don’t need her to list them; I’ve been doing that the past few days. “Then?”

  “Then I decided maybe falling for each other isn’t convenient, but maybe it could be pretty great.”

  I’m taken aback at the unexpected response. I’d assumed she’d spent the last week convincing herself we wouldn’t work. “I thought so,” I say. “I fell for you.”

  She lifts her eyes to mine. “You did?”

  “I started to. I wouldn’t spend the night with just anyone. I wouldn’t help just anyone search for a new apartment to get her away from her ex. I wouldn’t hate just anyone’s ex as vehemently as I do yours.”

  She’s quiet as she chews on her bottom lip. Somehow, her lipstick remains unperturbed. “I wasn’t expecting to see him like that, with you,” she says slowly. “I wasn’t mentally prepared for him, but suddenly . . . he was there, two worlds merging into one. And it reminded me of the truth.”

  “What’s the truth?”

  “Things fall apart. People lie. Cheat. Hurt each other, accidentally or on purpose. I don’t want to rely on anyone but myself. How do I know you won’t hurt me like Reggie did?”

  “You can’t know that. But don’t you get it?” I ask. “You did the same thing to me that Shana did. She disappeared. You disappeared too.”

  She shakes her head quickly. “I didn’t disappear. I was taking a breather. Figuring things out. I thought you’d understand, given our situation.”

  “I didn’t. I don’t.” I stick my hands in my pockets and look up at the commotion by the door. Sadie has arrived, her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide. She launches herself into Nathan’s arms. When I see them together, I know love exists. I’d just thought it wasn’t for me. For the first time in years, I wanted to be wrong about that.

  “What happened?” she asked. “Why did you want to talk to me?”

  “If you’d called me back, you’d know.” I take a step back. It isn’t easy. I still feel strongly for her, but I have more than myself to consider.

  “Is it about Bell? Is she . . . is she okay?”

  I get a surge of regret with her question. Her concern for Bell touches me, but it’s too little too late. Amelia isn’t Shana, but if she’s spooked this easily, she could be. “Bell’s fine. We’ll get through it.”

  “I’m sorry, Andrew.” She glances nervously at the group of chattering women. At Bell. “I . . . I like her. I didn’t even know children like Bell existed. She’s so mature but free. Wise, but still naïve and innocent. I’m not sure I’m ready to jump right in with her, but—”

  “Don’t.” I pull at my collar as my throat feels like it’s closing. I only see Bell crying all those late nights, confused about where her mom was. “I can’t go there.”

  Sadie waves me over, and Bell notices, perking up when she picks me out of the crowd. She’ll be over here in a flash, I can tell.

  “Let me make it up to you,” she says. “We can go for real food after this lunch. Pizza, beer, and then my place to talk. I’ll make myself sick with carbs if that’s what it takes.” She smiles a little, but I just stare at her.

  “I have Bell.”

  “She can stay with Sadie tonight. You’re already here in the city. Don’t make the same mistake I did.”

  “Which mistake?” I ask.

  “I let my fear come between us. I know that’s what you’re doing right now by not giving us a chance to work through this.”

  I scrub my hands over my face. “Don’t turn this on me—”

  “Please, Andrew. Just—don’t shut me out. I can make it right. Forget the pizza. I’ll open a bottle for us. I’ll draw you a bath with all the Tahitian vanilla I can find. We’ll be you and me. We’ll drink, soak, and talk. About ever
ything. We’ll figure this out.”

  I look at the ground, as if that will stop the tempting picture she’s painting, a picture of us in our little bubble. Who were we kidding? We can’t live in there. We can’t hide from our problems in a bathroom.

  Bell’s Mary Janes click-click-click as she runs up and attaches herself to my leg. “She was surprised! Did you see?”

  “Yeah, baby.” I smooth my hand over her hair. Amelia looks between us expectantly, as if she’s waiting for me to say something. “I’m going to take off,” I tell Bell. “I’ll come back to pick you up in a bit.”

  “You have to go?” Bell asks.

  I pray against the odds that she won’t melt into a tantrum. The last thing I need is a roomful of women judging my parenting. “Yes, this party is girls only. I’m not a girl.”

  “But . . .” Her hands curl into my jeans.

  “I’ll be right next door with Uncle Nathan.”

  “Hello, Bell,” Amelia says, touching the pendant around her neck. “Nice to see you again.”

  “Amelia,” I warn. “Don’t.”

  Bell looks up as if she hadn’t noticed anyone at all. “’Mila?” She releases my leg to face her. “What’s that?”

  Amelia releases the locket suddenly, as if she hadn’t realized she was playing with it. Her fingers are stiff. “It’s . . . a necklace.”

  “I know,” Bell says irritably, “but what kind? It looks old.”

  “It is.” Amelia curls her hand against her chest. “I just found it in storage. I haven’t had a chance to clean it yet—with silver, you should really take care of it, have it polished . . .” The thin skin of her throat ripples when she swallows.

  Bell’s eyebrows are wrinkled. Because she doesn’t give two shits about how to care for silver. Amelia has no idea how to talk to children, which should bother me, but I’m more captivated by their awkwardness.

  “I hear it’s your birthday tomorrow,” Amelia says. “My dad gave me this locket on my tenth birthday.”

  “What’s a locket?” Bell asks. “Can I see?”

  Amelia hesitates before she reaches behind her to remove it. She squats, her back straight as a rod. I doubt she’s ever bent down to anyone else’s level before. “You put a picture inside.”

  “Inside? How? Can I open it?”

  “The clasp is a little tricky—” Amelia starts to undo it and thinks better of it. She hands Bell the necklace. “Go ahead. You try.”

  Bell fumbles with the small, oval pendant while Amelia obviously restrains herself from interfering. Finally, Bell pops it open and gasps. “Wow. Is that you?”

  “As a baby,” Amelia says.

  “I love it,” Bell decides. “I want one with my picture.”

  “Well, you’ll have to wait a few more years. Until you’re old enough.” Amelia glances up at me. “If your dad says it’s okay.”

  I have to look away. I want to be angry, like I am when Denise tries to get to me through Bell. It doesn’t feel like that’s what Amelia’s doing, though. She doesn’t know how to connect with Bell, and I’m not sure she even wants to—but she’s trying. For me.

  Bell gives back the necklace and takes Amelia’s hand. “Come on. I’ll take you over to say hi to Aunt Sadie.”

  Amelia closes her eyes for a brief second and then stands. “Please,” she says to me under her breath. “I didn’t know I wanted this. I’m sorry that I do, but I’m also not.”

  “Come on, ’Mila,” Bell whines, pulling Amelia’s hand. “You can go, Dad. We’ll be okay.”

  Amelia keeps her eyes on me. “Tonight, my door is open for you,” she says. “I hope you’ll walk through it.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Nathan sips his club soda and sets it on the bar with a sigh. “Thank God that’s done. I don’t know what I was thinking planning a baby shower in the first place, and then I had to go and make it a surprise.”

  “You were thinking it would make her happy.” The loving look on Sadie’s face when she stepped onto the terrace said it all. “And you were right.”

  “I’ve been feeling helpless,” he admits. “She’s going through everything that comes with pregnancy—swelling, heartburn, mood swings—and I’m just over here fumbling through.”

  “I know that’s not true. Sadie told me she’d have lost it a long time ago if it weren’t for everything you do for her.”

  He smiles a little, looking over at me. “Yeah?”

  “Definitely.” Sadie hadn’t exactly said that, but her eyes twinkle when she tells me about how Nathan brings home whatever she’s craving without her even asking. And how he spends hours researching cribs online. I take a drink of my Coke. “Look at us. At a bar drinking sodas. We’re pathetic.”

  “I promised Sadie from now on I’d cut out alcohol. Show of support. She misses her wine.”

  “And I have to drive back to Jersey tonight, which wouldn’t have stopped me from having a beer or two in the past.”

  “And then Bell happened,” he infers. “We’re whipped by our women.”

  I lean back on the barstool. “I’d say so.”

  “We must be crazy to bring another one into the mix.”

  I glance over at him, tilting my head. Nathan is more observant than I give him credit for, but for once, he’s wrong. Despite the fact that Amelia and I weren’t very discreet just now, he seems to have missed the fact it’s over between us. “Actually, Amelia and I aren’t . . . we’re done.” I nod behind us. “That’s what all that was about at the hotel.”

  Nathan raises his eyebrows, no doubt sensing the lack of conviction in my tone. I don’t mention Amelia’s invitation. Do I want to go to her, let her put a Band-Aid on this with a bath, whisky and sex? Yes. I still want her. But it doesn’t change the fact that when she freaked out, she turned away from me when she should’ve done the opposite.

  Finally, Nate says, “Ohh. You mean Amelia.”

  “Yeah. Why? What other woman are we bringing into the mix?”

  “Your niece.”

  “Niece?” I ask. “But I don’t have—unless Sadie . . . but she doesn’t know the sex. Does she?” I widen my eyes and leap off the stool. “Dude. Are you telling me you’re having a girl?”

  Nathan laughs loudly enough to turn a few heads. “Did you not notice the entire party was pink?”

  I think back to the setup, which was disgustingly girly—because it was for a bunch of women, I thought. Now, details set in—the fact that the lace tablecloths and satin bows were the color of bubble gum. “I figured that’s just how baby showers were.”

  “The cake said ‘It’s a girl.’”

  “Oh.” My chest tightens at the thought of a baby girl, and it’s not so disgusting anymore. It’s fan-fucking-tastic. It’s nearly tear inducing. I’m flooded with memories of Bell crawling for the first time, of how we dressed her up in a red velvet dress and black patent leather shoes for Christmas dinner, of falling asleep on the couch with her on my chest, the rest of me buried under dolls. I grin and slap Nathan on the back. He jolts forward. “No shit. A girl. Congratulations. They’re the most amazing . . .” A lump forms in my throat. “I can’t even put it into words.”

  He nods. “I know, man. I know. I was there,” he says, referring to the last seven years with Bell. “Sit down before you hurt yourself. Or me.”

  “I can’t even . . .” I get back on the seat, shaking my head. “I’m speechless. Sadie must be over the moon.”

  “I took a risk announcing it like this,” he says, “but Sadie said she was ready to tell people last week, so I assumed it would be okay.”

  I grimace. “You didn’t clear it with her?”

  “How could I? It was a surprise.”

  “A little advice,” I say, “I don’t care if she’s Mother Teresa—when dealing with a pregnant woman, assume nothing.”

  “She didn’t seem mad about it,” he points out. “Not at all.”

  “That could be. But still. Don’t think you’re off the hook yet.
She could strike at any time.”

  “You make her sound like a rattlesnake hiding in the bushes.”

  “Two words.” I hold up my fingers and count down. “Shana and hormones.”

  “Ah. I see why you’d be traumatized,” he says. “So . . . she’s back, huh?”

  “No. I don’t know. I’m hoping if I ignore her long enough, she’ll go away.”

  He shakes his head. “Sorry, man. Wish I could say it’s a surprise, but you never know with her. Is that why you’re putting the brakes on with Amelia?”

  I glance up at the Yankees game in time to see Masahiro Tanaka strike out his batter. Nathan and I raise our glasses toward the TV and cheers. Since Jersey doesn’t have a major league baseball team, I root for the Yanks, my only concession where New York is concerned. “Not exactly,” I answer Nathan. “It’s more complicated than that.”

  Nathan sighs. “Is it? After four years, are you seriously not ready to open up at all? To bring Amelia into Bell’s life?”

  I nod out of habit more than agreement. I’m used to hearing it from Sadie, but Nathan is generally understanding of my stance on love. Am I not ready? Can I not open up? That isn’t the case. I already opened up to Amelia. Seeing Shana again should’ve sharpened that fear of falling for someone new, but instead, I turned to Amelia for support. I stop nodding and shake my head. “No, actually. I mean, yeah, Shana fucked me up. But I think I’m finally . . . over it.”

  “Because of Amelia?” Nathan sounds surprised.

  “Not completely. I just needed time and distance from Shana, and I have that now. But also, seeing Shana again, I felt nothing at all—except protective of Bell. No anger, no hurt.” I spin my glass on the bar. Would I have felt the same if Amelia weren’t in the picture, though? She’s not the reason I’m ready to move on from Shana, but she was the reason I suddenly wanted to. “And yes,” I add, “because of Amelia.”

  “You really like her.”

  “I do.”

  “Then why . . .?”

  I look at Nate. He’s a romantic, always has been. He’d love for everything to work out for everyone. It’s not that simple, though. “She’s scared. I was willing to take that risk with her, but she freaked out and left me hanging when I needed her, and I can’t risk that happening again. Not with Bell in the picture.”