by Palmer, Dee
I shake my head. “No no it will be fine, so long as you have a date, we’ll be safe.” I mutter.
“Ok Ok.” Ethan halts our cryptic ramblings. “You are going to have to explain because you sound like a bunch of crazy people. Why do either of you need to have a date for Sofia’s wedding, can’t you just go together?”
“Nooooo.” Dramatically and in unison we reply but I explain further. “Oh good God no! If I showed up in the dress Sofia has me in and Marco as groomsman there is absolutely no way Sofia and Paul would be the only ones getting hitched that day. Aunt Marie would see to that. In fact I don’t even think she’d be the only one.” I look to Marco for support and he grunts in confirmation. “Since as long as I can remember there has not been a single family gathering, outside of his mum and dad I mean, where it isn’t complete torture for Marco and me. I haven’t helped never having had a boyfriend in that time and Marco has been brilliant as a man-whore.” I wink at him and he shrugs lightly. “Sorry, but that is the only reason they leave us alone. But weddings make people crazy at the best of times and with Sofia being Marco’s twin and my best friend there is no way on earth we can go without partners.” I don’t think I drew breath and feel a little lightheaded. “It will be fine if you have a date though; that should be enough.” I smile, nod and calm myself. Marco doesn’t look so sure.
“Under normal circumstances I’d agree but its Sofs wedding we are talking about. Do you know how many single male cousins we have coming out of the woodwork?” He shakes his head slowly like he doesn’t fancy my chances. “Exactly.” He nods sagely as he takes in the horror that must be plastered all over my face.
“Shit.” I puff out.
“I’ll be your date.” Ethan nudges me and I look at his face and there is not a hint of mischief just kind eyes and a warm smile. He clarifies. “Not a date date, just a ‘keeping you safe date.’” He adds, “but if you call me your brother you’re on your own, just warning.” He takes a large pull of his beer and I try to gauge if he is harbouring any expectations but his offer seems genuine and since the prospect of going solo is truly terrifying it is extremely tempting.
“Really you don’t have to—” Before I can say another word Marco rushes to high five Ethan.
“Perfect!” A loud slap resonates as their palms meet. Marco is visibly relieved. I wish I shared his sentiment and I need to make sure that Ethan is definitely on the same page.
“That’s really kind Ethan but it’s not a date date. Oh God this is going to be a train wreck.” I grab my milk and huff because I seriously need something stronger.
“Relax, I understand Bets, really, crystal clear. It will be fun.” He winks at Marco who just laughs. “Besides I can’t have you married off to some random cousin before I get my shot.” Same page? Not even in the same library.
I am back to feeling drained, my eyes snap to Marco and to his credit he hides his surprise well and I can offer no other explanation other than a weary shrug. Marco goes to answer the door and returns with a pizza large enough to share so I am surprised when Ethan takes the opportunity to leave. I escort him to the door.
“You’ve never had a boyfriend?” He stands filling the doorway with his tall sleek frame, his eyes hold suspicion and disbelief, his expression is waiting for the punch line.
“Had one boyfriend but not since I was sixteen. No time.” I smile but I know it doesn’t even touch my cheeks.
His fingers trace my hairline and he tucks my wild hair, momentarily taming it behind my ear. “You have time now.” His words are soft and heartfelt. I hold his fingers stopping them from repeating his intimate touch.
“Ethan I can’t. Please.” I can’t express how sorry I am for everything. How bad I feel I can’t return a fraction of what he clearly feels for me. Other than friendship, I have nothing and given what’s going on inside me right now I’m sad that I never will. He leans and gently kisses my cheek.
“Ok Bets, you win.” He lets out a deep breath, a flash of sadness passes over his gaze rapidly replaced with a wicked grin. “For now.” He swoops quickly to kiss my cheek before he turns his back and walks away. I close the door and fall with my back flat letting out a frustrated growl. I don’t feel like I’ve won anything.
“Sooo Ethan eh?” Marco is leaning against the hall the wedge of a slice of pizza poised to drop into his open mouth.
“Not going there Marco.” I sigh resignedly; his expression changes from cocky to concerned in an instant. Clearly sensing that I am tired, emotional and on the raggedy edge he puts his one free arm around me, squeezing and steering me to the sofa for a much needed cuddle.
MY APPOINTMENT WITH Dr.Ward the following week was no surprise. I had read and re read every leaflet but there was never a question that I wouldn’t be keeping the baby. I know living at home when I was younger my sister Kit had joked that abortion was an alternative to contraception; it chilled me then as the thought of that choice does now. It is a choice but how ever unplanned, I feel strangely settled that this is my choice and my choice alone. It’s not ideal, it’s not perfect and its far far away from being a fairy tale ending but I’ll survive. I am not alone, I have the most amazing family that nature neglected to give me but I also have a new family that nature did. I have some security, although how extensive I am still mostly in denial but I know I will be able to provide for the two of us. My only decision has been to keep it secret until after the wedding.
Sofia has been planning her big day since the age of seven, when she hand stitched Barbie her very own designer wedding dress because the shop one wasn’t good enough. Sofia has orchestrated the most amazing day and I would never forgive myself if I did anything to detract from that. She in particular has a large extended family all expected to come so both Sofia and Paul have put an inordinate amount of effort in to their day. This wedding is very much about the day.
I have made my follow up appointments and am now armed with more literature regarding antenatal care, prenatal vitamins and a list of what to expect that would easily bring on sickness if I wasn’t already feeling sick, all the damn time. I push these to the bottom of my bag and make my way through Green Park and on toward Piccadilly to the American Diner, where I am meeting Tom for brunch. We spoke last week, presumably because Ethan had told him of my break up. It was sweet he thought to check up on me and even more impressive he managed to ask questions without being intrusive. I told him as much and he laughed explaining that particular talent had served him well and anytime I wanted he would teach me all his secret interrogation techniques. The Diner is busy, intimate booths of dark oak line one side and the décor is tasteful Americana but not a pastiche of the nineteen fifties. It is classic, iconic, original American. Tom towers over the partition separating the booths and waves me over. I remove my jacket and slide in along the dark red leather bench, pushing my bag underneath the seat.
We order and because I haven’t actually told anyone I was fired, opting for the less shameful excuse that it was a temporary internship that proved to be a little more temporary than I had anticipated. Tom asks me directly what my plans are for the summer. I outline my thoughts, such as they are. I am working back at the restaurant, mostly covering holidays and I will do this until the wedding and then I think I’ll maybe do some travelling. He smiles warmly at this because he knows this new information is directly a result of his generosity and my reluctant acceptance. I have since graciously accepted an allowance similar to the one Ethan receives. It was hard for me but made easier after my talk with Ethan and even easier when I saw the genuine delight on Tom’s face. I have declined the offer of the apartment. I thought I would be taking him up on it if Marco had, in fact, proposed to Rose but I am happier to be staying with Marco. At least until the baby is born. I am not sure how having a baby would fit with the Batchelor image he maintains and cultivates but I’ll cross that bridge another day.
The waiter brings my water and Tom a cappuccino. I sit a little further back, my sense of smell h
as become super sensitive and I am struggling with my reaction to all things coffee flavoured but with a little effort I can hold back any involuntary convulsions. A few breaths through my mouth, the unpleasant swell of nausea passes and I can take a sip of my drink.
“You must speak with Ethan before you go off anywhere. There is pretty much nowhere he hasn’t been and he’s like a personal Lonely Planet guide when it comes to travelling alone.” His tone clearly highlights his reservations regarding my plans but he is also reticent to express his obvious worry. He is still unsure the father daughter boundaries and it makes me smile, even if his concern is unwarranted. “In fact why don’t you two go together, I know he was planning another trip maybe you—”
I wave my hand to stop him before that line of thinking can develop further. “I will speak to him but really with everything that has happened I just want a little time to myself. It’s been an eventful year.” My voice is soft as I muse aloud, “and I need some time to process.” I smile to ease the concern on his face. “I will be fine but I really want to do this on my own.”
“Ok but I don’t have to like it.” He grumbles.
I scoff. “Oh don’t worry you won’t be alone there, I haven’t had the courage to mention it to anyone yet. I thought I’d leave it until the wedding, when everyone is three sheets to the wind.” We chuckle together and he squeezes my hand but drops the subject. “But I will speak to Ethan before I make firm arrangements.”
“Good but you will have to call him during the day. The evenings have been off limits since he met his new mystery lady.” Tom wiggles his brow.
“Mystery lady. . . . hmmm?” I chuckle to myself. I swear it should be Ethan and Marco who are twins with their prolific and carefree dating.
“Honestly, I rarely ask anymore. As soon as I learn a young lady’s name he has moved on to the next. Still you are only young once . . . as I am sure you will discover this summer. Travelling is such an adventure.” His smile is bright and filled with encouragement. “Speaking of the summer, you know you could always work for me until you travel. I bet the pay would be better.” He beams and I can see where Ethan gets his killer smile. There is nothing genetic there, it is just full-on confidence.
“Well, I could see why you would want to hire me, what with my in-depth knowledge in construction and all?” I quip sarcastically with a raised brow.
He laughs. “I thought interns are meant to be trained . . . you’re not supposed to have an in depth understanding.” He challenges, his back straightens and his whole aura has shifted from relaxed and casual to something much more formidable. He is gearing himself up for a negotiation. I can feel it, I can see it, his eyes sparkle. It’s why he has been so successful he thrives on this, he clearly loves it.
“Yes but perhaps some desire to work in construction might be preferable, no?” I also straighten my back. I kind of like the challenge too, especially when I know I’m going to win.
“Not necessarily, you are bright. I am sure there would be somewhere you would fit perfectly, we don’t have to put you on the tools.” He can’t help his grin spreading like wildfire across his rough tanned face.
“I know you think you’re pretty persuasive but you’re not going to win this one Tom.” I lay my napkin into my lap and try to hide my humour at this exchange.
“And you are so sure about this because I’ve been so unsuccessful in the past?” I let him have that one because he has got his way over a number of issues regarding me but only since my talk with Ethan.
“No, in-spite of it.” I lean forward adopting a more assertive position, which he mirrors but he is sporting a huge smile. “I promised I would cover holidays at the restaurant and if I make a promise I keep it.” I narrow my eyes with finality and bite my lips to stop my own winning grin.
He sinks back deflated and defeated. “Always?” His last effort lacks heart.
“Always.” I nod and only flinch internally thinking that my last promise was to marry Daniel. Right before he told me he was going to be having a baby with his ex, I don’t think there is a judge in the land that would’ve held me to that promise. So I nod again, happy that I do, under any normal circumstance keep my promise. With that, the waiter serves our brunch, American size portions of pancakes with maple syrup for me and the same for Tom with maple cured bacon on the side. The steam and smells rise as does the contents of my stomach as the smell of the bacon hits me like a brick. I clench my teeth and swallow the liquid pooling in my mouth, choking back my gag reflex. I squish the napkin in my face just in case I don’t quite make it to the Ladies. I scramble from the booth and run flat out, dramatically slamming through two sets of fire doors before I am safely bent double over the ladies toilet.
Tom seemed happy enough with my blatant misuse of ‘women’s’ problems’ get out card’ to explain my sudden departure and since he had cleared his plate by the time I returned I was even able to eat some of my pancakes. The portion was massive but with an empty stomach I did make a decent effort. I make my apologies for cutting our get together short but I was taking the easy afternoon shift at the restaurant and had to leave. Tom made me promise to come to visit him, taking advantage of his new knowledge regarding my promises and I happily did. I also promised to bring Marco, Sofia and Paul if their diaries would accommodate an afternoon in the country.
“It’s safe to come in now Bets!” Ricki the youngest kitchen porter shouts to me as I take my waitress apron from my hanger in the staff room. “All the hard works done! . . . Ow What the fuck Joe!” He cries out.
I peek round the corner into the kitchen and see Joe retrieve his hand from the back of Ricki’s head. He winks at me and I laugh. It feels good to be back. “Take no notice Bets, we’re always busy and besides we don’t want to frighten you off now we only just got you back. So we’re happy to ease you in gently.” He scowls at Ricki, who actually steps back with wide quaking eyes. Joe is a big guy and I can see how he could be intimidating but to me he is just a big bear. He grabs and hugs me like one as I enter his domain.
“Hey Joe, need to breathe here.” I wriggle from his arms and make my way to the swing door separating the restaurant. The smells in the kitchen are intense and I am sure they are delicious, just not to me at the moment. So in the quiet times I am lucky to be able to work the bar. As much as Joe loves me I think that bond would be tested to destruction if I kept retching every time I had to serve certain dishes. Which luckily are limited at the moment to those with bacon or any pork products for that matter. I meet Lili at the edge of the bar, she smiles but looks a little harassed.
“Oh hey Bets can you take this coffee order to the booth out back, table twelve. I really need to pee.” She is hopping from one foot to the next like an infant and I chuckle, taking the tray but she has vanished before I can comment. I turn my head and take a deep breath, holding it to avoid as much of the aroma as possible. Small breaths through my mouth will help if I actually have to speak but holding my breath is better. I can see the held hands before I register the faces, well I see Angel’s face first but Daniel’s too as he snatches his hand back giving me space to put their drinks. My breath escapes me but I manage to avoid his eyes, irritated that my usual tingle of hairs, my early warning system seems to also be affected by my new addition. I place the sugar, cream and Daniels espresso down and I put the last cup on my tray in front of Angel. She hasn’t recognised me and I watch transfixed as she leans forward and blows the steam of the Americano in an attempt to cool it, successfully forcing the rich hot flavour right up my nose. Oh Shit, my shoulders jerk and I swallow, spin and dash to the disabled toilet. The only toilet on this floor and the nearest.
My tray crashes to the floor and I grab the sink. This time, my urge to purge has already subsided. A few deep breaths and the cooling tingles and queasy tummy settles. My brow is peppered with droplets of perspiration and I rinse my hands under the cold running water, which feels really good. The door opens and Daniel steps in locking it behind him.
The tingles are back, my throat suddenly dry and my heart thumping in my chest. I wish I could just feel anger, undiluted jealousy or even remain feeling sick which would be a normal reaction. But no, my body takes over and I have a raging battle with my sanity on one side, a weak opponent, against the might of my lust for the man in front of me. Is it even possible to crave someone this much and then he stalks toward me, slow, intimidating steps, radiating dominance. His eyes darken and whatever he is thinking is badly masked and sends pure raw heat straight between my legs. I try to step back as my need and desire are seriously clouding my judgement.
“What are you doing here?” His reproachful tone is a shock. Maybe it’s not lust in his eyes, maybe he is just angry, angry that I have spoiled his date.
I look behind me quickly to make sure I am not going to trip and step back further. 11et out a sharp laugh. “Ha! That’s good Daniel. What am I doing here? Well, since your thoughtful intervention over my patent application I was deemed a security risk and was fired. So I am here because I fucking work here! But you! You are here because let me guess . . . there are no other restaurants in London you could think of to have a cosy date?” I catch a glimpse of a smirk. I grit my teeth because it is still frowned upon, punching the clients in the face, even if his face is begging for it. I growl in the back of my throat and push my hands hard against his chest and try to push past. He is immovable and his hands grab mine and easily twist them behind me, pulling my body to his he steps me back against the wall, holding my hands in one of his. His other hand strokes my cheek and rests firmly on my throat, the movement of swallowing pushing against his palm. His eyes are on fire, his breath whispers on my skin, fresh sweet mint. “You’re an arsehole and I hate you.” I whisper with very little conviction.