by Kayt Miller
“Babe, I wanted to take you.” Okay, that sounded a little whiney but damn it, I wanted to go with her.
Sighing, she sets the book and papers she’s holding and begins to crawl to me. Uh oh. All she fucking has to do is shit like that and my dick twitches. I need a little internal monologue here…Baker, this isn’t about sex. When she gets to me, she kneels in front of me. Fucking dick. Sit down. Placing her hands on my legs she says, “I know you would have taken me, but I want this first holiday to be about my dad and me. I know Tina will be there, but that’s different. She’ll stay out of our way and…”
“I would stay out of your way.” Defensive much, Bake?
“Baker. You know how I feel about you. I’d love to spend our first Thanksgiving together, but my dad and I need this time. You know I’ve read all of his letters, right?”
I nod.
She blinks and looks up at the ceiling. I know she’s fighting back tears when she does that. She’s had a hard time with everything especially after reading the letters her mother finally relinquished. Some of the early letters sounded desperate, while others were angry and a little mean. The last letters were more resigned and came less often. It felt like he’d given up and I think that hurt her more than anything else. She told me she understood where all of his emotions came from but it was hard for her to read them, especially all at once.
After reading them all, she called her dad. They talked for hours––literally hours. When she emerged from her bedroom afterward, her eyes were red from crying, but she was smiling. The only concern I’ve had is the fact she’s been extra quiet ever since. When I’ve mentioned that fact, she just shrugs and tells me she’s got a lot on her mind. I hope that doesn’t include ending things with me. Fuck. What if it does?
“Your dad doesn't need to do that. I can drive you and stay in a hotel and…”
“No.”
“No?”
“No. I love you so much for wanting to keep me safe, Baker. I just need to do this my way this time.”
I rub my face with both hands and then run them through my hair. I need a haircut. It’s almost to my shoulders now. “Fine.”
“You’re angry with me?”
“No.” Yes.
She gives me a shrug, and that hurts right in the middle of my chest. She doesn’t care? When she slides onto my lap and wraps her arms around my neck my heart hurts less. “Baker, I love you. I’m going to be sad you’re not with me, but this is how it’s going to be for Thanksgiving. But, will you drive me there for Christmas?”
Ah, the proverbial olive branch. “What about Granna?”
“Well, what if we spent Christmas with my dad and New Years with Granna. Next year we can switch everything up to make it fair. Do you think she’d be okay with that?”
“Next year?”
“Oh, uh,” she says tentatively. “I just assumed.”
“No! I just liked the sound of it. That you’re invested in this thing between us as much as I am.”
“Of course I am, dork.”
“I’m not a dork,” I say pinching her ass. “You’re a dork with those silly, sexy glasses and that messy, sexy hair.”
“So, you think I’m sexy?” she whispers shyly.
“You know I do,” I whisper back.
“Thanks, Baker.” Leaning in, she kisses me softly.
I deepen the kiss sliding my hand up into her tangled hair doo. I bump her glasses with my nose, but neither of us gives two shits. I reach up and take the glasses off tossing them onto my glass coffee table. I use my upper body to ease her onto her back on my sofa. “Baker?”
“Uh, huh,” I say kissing her throat.
“I think you’re sexy too.”
“Yeah?” As I kiss and suck on her neck, I slide my palm past the waistband of her jeans straight into her panties. I palm her pussy with my hand sinking one finger deep inside. “You’re wet?”
“When you’re around, constantly, Baker.”
“Good to know.” Sitting back onto my knees, I work her jeans down to her ankles. As she kicks them off, I push my sweats down to the middle of my thighs. My cock is hard and dripping with pre-come. I watch as she spreads her legs for me revealing that sweet, pink pussy to me. “God, you’re beautiful like this, V.”
“Thanks.”
She slides her hand down her stomach until it’s over herself. Oh, fuck. “Touch yourself. Let me see you make yourself come.”
Her face turns a pretty shade of pink, but she does as I ask. Swirling her finger around and around her clit, she begins to move her pelvis with each twirl. Mesmerized by the sight of her, I wrap my hand around myself slowly pumping up and down. “This is the fucking hottest thing I’ve ever see, Virginia.”
“Uh, huh,” she’s moving her hand faster and faster.
I decide to help her along. “Keep doing what you’re doing.” I lean forward pressing my middle finger into her and then begin to pump in and out with her movement.
“Oh, shit, Baker. I’m gonna come. Don't st-stop.”
“I won’t,” I add a second finger, and just as I start to feel her core constrict, I pull my hand out quickly and press my cock into its place. Plunging deep inside, she screams, and I let out a guttural moan. “The fucking best, V.” Nothing feels like this. Nothing has ever felt like this. It’s like…oh, fuck. I quickly pull out. “I forgot a condom, hang on.” I step out from between her legs and turn.
“It’s okay. I’m on the pill.”
I turn back to her quickly, “Since when?”
“Tenth grade.”
“Tenth grade? I thought you were a virgin when we…”
“I was.” She looks hurt.
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”
“Lots of girls are on birth control pills for other things, Baker. It helps with our cramps, and it regulates our period.”
“Sorry. I guess I didn’t realize.”
“So, I’m covered.” She says with a slight smile. I look from her face down to her pussy. It’s tempting but… I walk over to my wallet that’s sitting on the counter. Opening it up, I pull out a condom. Tearing it open, I slide it down my cock as I walk back to her. To say I’m shocked at what I see is an understatement.
“What’re you doing?”
She’s sitting up placing a foot into her jeans. She blinks up at me. “You don’t trust me.”
“What? Yes. Of course, I trust you.”
“No you don’t, or you wouldn’t have just put on a condom after I told you I was on the pill.”
“I trust you. It’s just that the pill is only 99.9% effective.” Besides, my mom’s words are rolling around in my head and I don’t know why. ‘She’s a money-grubbing whore. She’s just trying to get knocked up.’
She’s standing now, buttoning her jeans. “So, you're worried about the point zero one percent chance of me getting pregnant?” Placing her hands on her hips she adds, “Or is it that you don’t believe me when I say I’m on the pill?”
“I, uh. I believe you. I just want to be careful. The last thing I need is for you to get knocked up, V.” She flinches at my words, and I’m not sure why. Does she want a kid or something? “I’m not ready for a kid, Virginia. I may never be.” I’ve seen first-hand what happens when a couple has a kid when they don’t want one.
“The last thing you need?” she says bending down to pick up her book bag. “Is for me to get knocked up?” Unhappy. She’s definitely unhappy. “For your information, Bake…” she spits my name out like she’s mad at me. “It takes two people go ‘get knocked up’.” She uses air quotes to emphasize the last three words.
“I know I just meant…”
“You meant that you don’t want me to get pregnant and what? Trap you?”
She’s got her book bag packed, and now she’s slipping on her furry boots. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going home. Peach wanted help with something.”
“With what? Why can’t Tig help her?”
“She wants help with lady stuff.”
“You’re lying.”
Her eyes grow large, and then they turn into little angry slits as a scowl appears on her pretty face. “Yeah, I’m a liar and a whore who wants to get knocked up and trap you into a loveless marriage. Jesus, Baker. You sound like your mom now.”
My mom? She just had to throw my mom in my face. Luckily, we haven’t seen mom since the incident at the coffee shop. She took off after she was released from jail. Somehow, Granna’s attorney found out that she wasn’t on the run from some drug lord and she didn’t have gambling debts. That’s good news, I guess. The bad news, from what I understand, she honestly thinks she’s entitled to this money, and her feelings of resentment have been festering for a long time.
When I suggested I talk to her and possibly give her some of my money, Granna said that I’m ‘absolutely not to give her a cent’ and that she’d ‘take care of it’. It’s not like I’m ever going to spend a million dollars. Hell, that’s only the first disbursement. I’m getting another one when I turn twenty-seven, then one at thirty, and the final and the bulk of my inheritance when I turn thirty-five. In all I’m due to inherit just under seven million dollars. So, yeah, how the fuck am I ever going to spend all of that? In the end, I promised Granna I’d let her take care of it, but if mom shows up again, I’ll do something about it.
I’m pulled from my thoughts when I hear the front door slam shut. “What the fuck, Virginia?” I run to the door opening it up to a gust of chilly air. Peering down the driveway, I see her practically running away. “Virginia!” I yell.
She stops and turns back, walking toward me until she’s at the bottom of my front steps. “Baker, I love you. But, sometimes love isn’t enough.”
Love isn’t enough? What the fuck is she talking about? “Look, I’m sorry.” She blinks up at me, tears clinging to her lashes. She looks back down at the ground.
“Did you hear me? I said I was sorry.”
“I know. I heard you.” She’s still not looking at me.
“No. V. I’m really sorry. I should never have made you feel like I didn’t trust you it’s just my history with my parents and their unwanted pregnancy is still fresh in my mind all these years later.”
“But, we aren’t your parents, Baker. It’s not fair to compare me to your mom. I’m not her.”
“I know. You’re the complete opposite of her.” Obviously.
She looks up at me again, “You never want to have kids?”
“I don’t know.” I’m being honest. I don’t know.
“Well, I do. I want at least three someday. If you don’t, then we should probably just end things.”
“End things? Why?”
“We want different things. It’ll never work if I want them and you don’t. We’ll both end up hurt and resentful.”
“Wow, you’re serious? You’re willing to just give up on me?”
“I’m not giving up on you.”
“The hell you aren’t. You’re giving up on us just because I may or may not want kids with you someday. I’m only twenty-fucking-two, Virginia.”
She takes the three steps up my steps until she’s touching my arm. “I think we should take some time to think about this. It’s been pretty fast and intense with us. When I get back from my dad’s, we can talk.”
“You’re fucking breaking up with me?”
“No. I think we both need time to think about what we really want.”
“So, if I tell you I want ten kids, we’re going to be golden? Is that it?”
“No. I don’t want you to tell me something just because it’s what I want to hear. You deserve to be happy, Baker, and if having kids will make you unhappy, then maybe I’m not the one for you.”
“Just because I don’t want to knock you up you’re out of here?”
“No! Jesus, Baker.” Several tears start to roll down her cheeks. “You’re not being fair.”
“Me? I'm not fucking fair? You won’t even give me the courtesy of trying to understand my point of view on this shit. Instead you run off accusing me of the ‘not trusting you’ bullshit.” Sure I say it in a faux bitchy female voice. That’s not to win me points with her.
“Well, on that note. I think I’ll head out. See ya,” she says stomping down the steps.
“V, I didn’t mean it.”
Lifting her middle finger in the air as she marches down my driveway I want to laugh or maybe cry; I’m not sure which because damn, she just flipped me the bird. “Virginia,” I whine. “Come back. Let’s talk about this.”
Ignoring me, she keeps walking. My first instinct is to go after her. She’s not wearing a damn coat again. I could make sure she’s warm––give her a ride home––but I don’t. I just stand there on my front steps freezing my balls off wondering what the hell just happened. Oh, I remember, she broke the fuck up with me because she wants a fucking kid. “Jesus, she drives me fucking crazy.” And not in a good way this time. Fine. Fuck her.
Chapter 49
Virginia
My dad arrives at my place late Tuesday night, and we’re on the road bright and early on Wednesday morning heading to his house. He must know something’s wrong because he keeps asking me vague questions about classes, my friends, and about Baker.
I told him on the phone that Baker and I were dating. He patted himself on the back for predicting that would happen. I think he also liked the fact that he was getting to hear about a part of my life that I’m not sharing with anyone else. Not even Peach. I mean, obviously, she knows things, but not about this latest drama. She’d kick Baker’s ass.
On the ride to Illinois, I spill everything about the argument we had over children. “Dad, I just don’t want him to feel like he has to have kids, a family, if he doesn’t want it. I also don’t want this to come between us later on.”
“Okay. Let me ask you this. I know he loves you, but do you love him?”
“I do.” I sniffle as quietly as possible, but I know he heard me.
“Oh, sweetheart. This will all work out. I promise you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Let me tell you a little something about men…”
“Oh, no,” I laugh a little.
“Now, now. Let me say this. Men are simple creatures.”
I snort at that.
“No, seriously. We are simple. If you feed us, kiss us, love us, and praise us, we’ll be happy men.”
He can’t see me but I roll my eyes when dad calls men ‘simple’. Men aren’t simple. They’re more complicated than a Rubik’s Cube. “Dad…”
“Let me tell you what I think Baker is doing right now.”
Oh, I want to hear this. I’ve thought about Baker almost every minute since I stormed out of his place on Sunday. I’ve checked my phone about a thousand times for messages or missed calls, but there’s been nothing. Granted, I haven’t written or called him either. I’m not ready to make the first move. “What’s he doing?” Please don’t say he’s out picking up another girl. Please don’t say he’s…
“He’s wallowing in self-pity right about now.”
“Baker’s not like that. He’s very confident. I’m sure he’s out with his friends meeting someone new.” On that last word, I start to cry. “He’ll find someone new, dad.” Someone who doesn’t want to have kids. Someone he can trust.
“Sweetie, don’t be surprised when you get back to find a shell of the man you left on Sunday.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s not going to take this well. I know I only met him the once but you need to go see him as soon as you get home.”
“Should I be worried?”
Shrugging, dad says, “Maybe. I think you need to hear him out.”
“I did.”
“Not really. He’s obviously got some serious qualms about fatherhood. Let him tell you what those are, and perhaps you can work things out.”
“I guess I can do that.”
&nb
sp; “Just trust me, honey.”
“Okay, dad. Thanks for the advice.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry you’re going through this, but I’m not gonna lie, I love being able to talk to you about your life like this.” Dad’s voice gets shaky. When I hear him sniffle, I look over at him and see his eyes are a little shiny.
“I’m glad I can talk to you about it too, daddy.”
When I call him ‘daddy’, he loses it, crying openly as he drives. I guess I haven’t called him that since we started talking again––probably not for ten years. He’s so emotional; he pulls the car over at the next exit to wipe his eyes. “I’m… I’ve missed you so much, Virginia. There’s been a hole in my life without you.”
“Oh, daddy. Mine too.” We wrap our arms around each other, hugging. When we’re finally on the road again, I take some time to think about Baker and his request to drive me home. I would have loved a road trip with Baker, but I’m glad dad picked me up so we could talk. This has been cathartic.
“Okay, we’re almost home,” dad smiles at the road ahead. “Twenty more minutes or so.”
“Good. I’m hungry.”
“Tina’s got a feast ready for us when we get there, but it’s nothing compared to Thanksgiving dinner.”
“So, you and Tina are good?”
“Very. We’re very good. She’s my best friend.”
“Oh, that’s so cool. I’m happy for you both.”
“It just wasn’t meant to be for your mom and me.”
“I know.”
“She called me, you know?”
“She said she was going to.”
“We talked for over an hour. She also sent me a box.”
“A box?”
“Yep. Filled with things about you. School pictures, videos, class projects, newspaper articles, you name it.”
“Really?”
“Yep. I pulled out the school pictures to hang on the wall, but I thought it’d be fun for you and me to go through the rest of it together so you can tell me about everything.”
Damn it all to hell. I’m crying again. “I’d love that, daddy.” So much.
The five days I spent with my dad and Tina were perfect. It was just the three of us most of the time, but Thanksgiving day the house was filled with family I hadn’t seen in years plus I some of Tina’s family. They were all gracious and kind to me.