Playlist: You Make Me Happy by Cathy Heller
Word Prompt: Hose
Chapter 20
After Bella's practice we head to my house to snack and do homework. As we pass through the hallway side by side, Bella stops to check out some old family photos. Katie in braces, Garrett in his graduation cap and gown, me holding my MVP from freshman year when I was on the JV team.
"You were so skinny," she says, smoothing her finger down the frame.
"So were you," I remind her. I remember those little chicken legs running around the field.
"So was everyone. Every girl was so infatuated with you then. Cheryl Hayworth stuffed for you that year. You remember her?"
"Who?"
"Cheryl. Curly hair, glasses, used to always wear—"
"Oh, yeah. She was the one with those loud bracelets. We sat next to each other in freshman English. I could never concentrate; she was so jangly. She stuffed for me?"
Bella makes eye contact, and I'm embarrassed that she's caught me looking proud. Hey, that's exciting, girls trying to enhance themselves for me.
"Did you ever . . ."
"Do I look like I stuff?" Bella sticks out her chest, and I examine her thoroughly, sneaking a finger down the collar of her tee to take a peek.
"Looks natural to me."
"I can't believe you just looked at my boobs to prove that."
"Hey, it sounded like an open invitation. Who am I to pass that up?"
"It could be misconstrued as insensitive that you would even need to check, considering . . ." She raises an eyebrow. All I can do is grin like an idiot. I know Bella's boobs are real. It's factual. I know from my experience with them. Yay, me! "But then again, insensitivity runs in the male DNA in this family."
"I'm trying to break the laws of science and be the black sheep."
"Well, bravo." We share a moment of silence looking up and down the photos. Bella stops in front of a studio shot of my mom taken in her early twenties. "She's so pretty."
"My mom's amazing. I wouldn't be surprised if she remarried within a month. Who wouldn't want her? What's to complain about? She's smart, she's funny, she's attentive, she cooks, she looks nice, she dresses nice. I mean how many moms do we know that wear those nasty high-waist mom jeans? My mom still shops at Gap."
"I wish there was a way we could make him remember."
"Remember what? That he loves her? He knows." I slide down the wall, spreading my legs out so they touch the opposite wall.
Bella joins me on the ground, her slightly salty after-practice smell makes me miss ball already. Only I wish I could smell as mild as she does after practice.
"No, I mean, I want him to remember what he was like when they were young and carefree and he didn't have bills to pay or mouths to feed. When it was just the two of them. Hell, in a few months, it could be. They'd be free of kids; they could do whatever they wanted. It's every married couples' dream, right? To play and travel and make love all day once all the kids are gone?
"Let's just skip to that. No kids, no mortgages, just fun."
Bella smiles, her eyes squinting as she regards me. "You're kind of a romantic, huh?"
"Maybe. A little bit. Why? Do you like it?"
"I think I need it. I was raised by Charlie. Everything's so practical. I think I need that balance."
I swipe her hand off her lap and lace our fingers together while searching the frames above me. There's a single frame housing three photos. One with Mom and Dad on a bench. He's fully decked out in his baseball uniform. He was sixteen there, I think. Mom and Dad at their wedding reception, kissing. And last, my dad's got his arms wrapped around mom's waist while she's cooking. She's spoon feeding him over her shoulder, their smiles outrageously wide. I miss my parents. I haven't seen them that way in years. A few, at least.
"My mom's romantic," Bella says quietly, calmly. "Every time I visit her she has to pull out her albums and go over her love affair with Dad. She pores over the photos and smiles wistfully at each one even though her hair looks so stupid. I can't get past the hair. I know it's shallow, but sue me. Besides, every daughter's supposed to think her mother's hair is stupid, right?"
"You are so cute," I say, and she swats my stomach with our joined hands. "But that's not a bad idea. Maybe I can get them to think about their beginnings, when they first fell in love, had a first kiss, first dance. I'm not sure how anyone can forget those things."
"Me neither. Edward, our first kiss was . . . besides the after part . . . I will always, always, always long for that feeling."
I lean my head against the wall and swing it so our eyes meet. "Yeah?"
She nods, and her eyes dart to my lips.
"Should we reenact—"
"Shut up," she mumbles as she climbs onto my lap and presses her lips to mine. She yanks my hat off my head and fists my hair all while pushing down deliciously with her hips.
"I don't quite remember it like that," I say quietly.
"Who cares?"
"Not me. I don't care one bi—"
"Shut u—" This time I close my lips over her mouth to keep her quiet.
-NSID-
Tuesday afternoon I'm crammed in Bella's mini-mobile, hauling ass to get my dad to play hooky from work. Something drastic needs to happen here, and who else can do it? It can't hurt to try.
I pull into his office and wrench the door open to find some big haired, loud mouthed new secretary who has no idea who I am. "Sir, you can't just . . . Dr. Cullen's with a patient." She follows me into the hallway.
"He's the patient now," I mumble, knocking on exam room one. "Dad." No answer. I bang this time, calling out again. "Your son's here. He needs to see you."
The door opens and a small, older lady with purplish hair and massive glasses shuffles out. "You keep taking that medication, Gladys."
"What?" she crows, turning and cupping her ear.
"Nice seeing you, Gladys," he says, this time a little louder.
"You, too, sonny. Glad you're closer than my grandson. Shannon was making me see him for my arthritis, but I told her Dr. Cullen was closer and cuter." She pats his cheek. "But I suppose if he brought his practice here, I wouldn't mind it. You got room for a young laser-wielding doc?" She doesn't wait for Dad's response and barrels on. "He's all the way out there on the freeway. I can't drive out there. I'll die on the road. And I can't be his only client. If I am, then he's not a very good doctor, is he?" She turns her eyes on Dad, and he smiles. She nods her head, already forgetting that he should say something, I guess.
Gladys takes a while to get out of our way. Her mothball smelling bag brushes against me as she goes. Once she does, I pull Dad into the room myself and shut the door. "I have an idea. For Mom."
"Edward . . ." he says, defeated, closing his eyelids with his thumb and middle finger as though pronouncing himself dead.
"She hasn't filled out the papers yet, Dad. You still have a chance. Take it."
"What were you thinking?" he asks, and I dive into my plan.
-NSID-
Dad and I pull up to Mom's office, and I head inside. The vibe here is so different than Dad's office: women happily chatting, clicking away at keyboards, a man in dress pants, but no tie, sipping on a Coke while taking a call. "Hey, it's Esme's pride and joy! Hi, Edward. So good to meet you."
"Hi," I say, shaking hands with . . .
"Siobhan. She's making copies. Right back here." She leads me through a narrow hallway filled with bright motivational posters. The whole place smells of coffee and doughnuts. I'm hungry.
Mom's stapling some packets together and fitting them into crisp new folders. "You have a visitor."
"Shoot. Mr. Cohen is early. I'll be right out."
Siobhan nudges me with an elbow. "He's really irate. Said you'd have those for him by three, and it's four now."
"I never said that. I strictly said—" Mom shoots her head up in exasperation until she sees me and a wide grin takes over her face. "What are you doing here?"
"I'm kidnapping you. Bella has a game. Come cheer her on. There's only two more, and that's only if she wins this and the next."
"Siobhan, do you think—"
"Get out of here. I'll handle that crappy Mr. Cohen. And then I'll take him out to dinner." Mom rolls her eyes. "Hey, if you won't accept his invitation, I will." She leaves us alone in the copy room.
"Mom, are you . . ."
"No, I'm not. He asked me out, and I told him I was separated and definitely not dating."
"Okay, good."
"I would never do that to your father. I know this must be hard for you to understand but . . ." Mom runs her hand over my head, patting it down in the back with a frown on her face. "I'm exhausted, honey. I can't be the only one trying anymore."
"I know, Mom. I agree. And you deserve the best. You both do. I mean, Dad wasn't always like this, right? He paid lots of attention to you when you first started dating. I remember you guys always chasing each other around the yard when Dad would wash the car."
"He never could resist spraying me with that hose. You know that's how he got my attention. His team was having a fundraiser. A car wash. I walked by and whoosh! All wet. I could not believe how rude he was. And how cute." She smiles on, wistfully looking out the small window in the room.
"You need your stuff?"
"Just my purse."
Mom makes some quick arrangements and grabs her bag before following me out. I'm waiting for the fallout when she sees Dad outside holding her door open, but she doesn't say anything. In fact, when she gets in, she smiles at me, shaking her head minutely, like I'm sly or something. Well, I try.
-NSID-
We get ourselves a few dogs and sodas and set up in the bleachers. The game's already started and things are looking good. Dad's talking to Mom, and Bella's shutting out the opposing team. With her final strike of the inning, the crowd goes wild, including one Jacob Black who's seated near the front. I'm howling right along with him, and we catch each other's eyes and share a nod.
After the third inning, Charlie shows up, ruffled and late from a full day of work. Things are looking good for Mom and Dad, who are sharing a messy snow cone and giggling, so I wave him away. He sits on his own, but he seems content with his nachos.
When I spy my parents holding hands, I'm in utter shock. Is it really this simple? I don't know, and I don't care. It looks good, so I move away to give them space and end up next to Jake.
"She's so good," he says, shaking his head. "You treating her right?'
"She'd beat me with a bat if I didn't."
"I always loved that about her."
"Your eye looks good." I snicker at my dig.
"She's got a mean right hook, so watch out for that. She doesn't need a bat for that one."
"Mmm," I murmur, trying not to laugh.
He throws his hands out wide and chuckles. "You cornered me. What was I supposed to say? You point blank asked me about my virginity."
"I didn't say anything."
"You didn't have to. Bella took care of it herself. I was so excited to see her running toward me in her cute little practice outfit and then wham! Right across the cheek. If baseball doesn't work for her, she could try boxing."
"Good idea. Though I'm not sure I like the idea of watching other people hit my girlfriend."
"Eh," Jake says with a shrug. "So you're happy? Both of you?"
"Yeah."
"Good. Let's get this done."
"All right," I say, and he offers me a fist bump before cheering on our team again.
-NSID-
"Go, Bella! One more! One more!" Charlie yells roughly from high up.
My voice is hoarse from all my shouting as well. Turns out Jake's enthusiasm is contagious, and the two of us together make up a huge portion of the cheering section for Bella. As do my parents; they holler just as much. I thought Mom was a big talker when I played, but she's really goading on these girls, trash talking as they come up to bat.
"I hope you bat better than you braid, sister. And blue's not your color," Mom scoffs as the batter takes up the box.
Dad sits beside her, shaking his head and laughing. They look happy, thank goodness. I've got to force them to ditch work and have fun more often. They're too serious.
Bella runs her fingers over the brim of her hat, her eyes concentrating ahead of her. She rolls her head and shrugs her shoulders before whipping her arm around and pitching a strike.
"That's my girl. Bella, you rock!" Mom screams and hops up. She pulls Dad up with her, and then hollers at the rest of us. "Get up, everybody make some freaking noise. Support our girls!" The crowd goes wild, stomping their feet, clapping their hands, and booing the batter. I almost feel bad for her. Almost.
Bella delivers another strike. Her eyes meet mine, and her lips pull up into the tiniest grin.
"I never had a chance," Jake mumbles, and I laugh.
"I told you she was in love with me."
"She told you?"
I tuck my hands in my pockets and shrug awkwardly.
"Yeah, that's what I thought. I couldn't get her to say it either."
"You love her?"
"Sure," he says, like it's no big deal. Like, of course he was in love with her. And why wouldn't he have been? Hell, they hung out essentially all year, and who knows how many dates they went on, how many times he was in her room I didn't know about.
I wish I could've known that I loved her that easily. I wish I hadn't wasted so much time without Bella. Who knows where we could be by now, or how much more in love we could be? She does love me, right?
Jake narrows his eyes and claps me on the back. "She'll say it. She does. She's just being Bella."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because she weighs everything. She doesn't say things she doesn't mean. Just like she doesn't do things she doesn't mean or regret. I'm sure that's why she was never really my girlfriend. She just didn't feel that way. But with you, I see it. Damn. Right here." He draws his fingers over his eyes and wipes away a pretend tear with a pout.
"Shut up, loser. Watch the game. My girl's about to win it."
"Yeah, she is. We love you, Bella!" Jake shouts, and her shoulders shake with laughter before she pulls it together and nails her next pitch.
Strike!
She pumps her fists in front of her chest, and the girls rush her, screaming and cheering.
I holler along with everyone else, until Jake smacks my stomach. "Go get her, idiot. She loves you."
Dammit, he's right. I want on that field, and I want her in my arms. I jog down the bleachers and hop the short fence on the side before running to her. She catches my eyes through the crowd and runs toward me, leaping into my arms.
"That was amazing. Did you feel that energy? Omigosh! I'm so high right now I could do anything!" She's breathless, her cheeks pink, her skin hot and tacky to the touch. She's so damn sexy.
"You were fantastic out there. You did it!"
"Hell, yeah, she did," howls a girl behind her, and Bella gets a butt slap from her teammate. Hot.
"I did," Bella agrees, nodding and laughing, her eyes alight with happiness. I always want to see her this way, always, so I sear it in my memory and seal it with a kiss right there on the field. Even where Charlie can see from his spot in the bleachers. Oh, well.
"Good game, Bella. Come here, come here, come here," Mom squeals as she pushes me away from my girlfriend. I step back and stand next to Dad, who's smiling but looks awkward standing there in his scrubs.
They chat animatedly, and Bella chuckles loudly, calling out my mom for being mean to the other team. Mom looks innocent, and Dad and I catch each other's eyes and laugh.
"This was fun. Good idea, Edward," Dad says.
"It was sort of Bella's. She mentioned how exciting it must have been when you first fell in love. And I figured, she used to come see your games. So . . . nostalgia."
"Well, I like it. I'm gonna run with it, try to buy myself some time to win back her heart. Make sure you thank Bella for me."
"I will."
-NSID-
Even though Charlie offers Mom and Dad transportation home, they find their own way, and he insists I take Bella out to celebrate. He's heading straight to a poker game afterward, anyway. I'm not complaining at the dad-approved date at all.
We end up at an ice cream parlor with a few of her teammates as they recap the game. It's fun seeing her with her team. She doesn't hang out with too many girls as far as I can tell, but these girls really like her. I wonder if they may even be intimidated by her a bit, so they don't pursue a friendship beyond this. What do I know, though? I have no clue about the dynamics of girl friendships.
Bella drives us to her house, but she's so wound up she doesn't want to go home yet. We decide to walk to my house, taking the long way around. We sway our clasped hands back and forth as we talk about my parents' successful evening. It seems like everyone won tonight, including me as Bella presses me up against the front door before devouring my lips.
Damn, girl.
She climbs her hands up my chest and back down before sneaking them beneath my shirt and running them over my abs. I make a really embarrassing sound and should be horrified that I'm outside in the open, but I can't really care about that because all I want to do is get inside my room and make out with Bella and take down her fresh knee socks.
I fumble with the door and get it open. We're stumbling around and giggling as we enter, trying to keep our lips sealed. As we move down the hallway toward my room a loud groan echoes through the house. Bella pulls back and covers her face with her hands, giggling. She points over her shoulder, and we tiptoe out the back door, sneaking into her back yard.
"Oh my gosh. I don't even want to know." She opens her back door and leads me inside.
"Ew! My parents! I thought they'd go to Mom's," I squeal, taking a heavy seat on her couch and covering my head with my hands. "I should go hose them down and make them stop. Gross!"
Bella sits beside me, still giggling. She's silly tired and still high from her win, and I can't blame her, but this is disturbing.
"I'm scarred for life, Bella. I feel like I need to take a shower or something."
"Well, I could use one," she says, and my head shoots up to meet her gaze. She stands and places her foot on the edge of the couch between my legs, lowering that damn strawberry covered knee sock like it's some black lace whatchamacallems attached to garters.
She removes her foot from the couch and lifts the other, placing it between my legs and shifting it up a little higher to the apex of my thighs.
Holy hell. Bella can seduce.
I don't even have time to register what's fully happening because I'm too turned on. My brain's too stupid. All I can think is Bella. Shower. Naked. Now. Go.
So I do and she gets naked and we shower.
Dad did order me to thank her, so I did. Several times.
Best night ever.