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CHAPTER TWENTY
Thomas
Erin’sestimationon the sugar coma was on point. The insane amounts of cupcakes and cakes she and my mother baked nearly knocked me out by looking at them alone.
After alight dinner, the two of them excused themselves to the kitchen, snickering like two old friends. My mother smiled, genuinely happy with Erin’spresence.
While we waited for them, Italked to my father. I’dgrown to like him, to forgive him, and even to regret all the years we spent apart. But regret didn’tdo anyone any good, so Itook Erin’sadvice and enjoyed the present.
When they were ready, the cake parade arrived, and dwelling on the past really became the furthest thing from my mind. Triple-layered chocolate cake coated with chocolate frosting and with layers of vanilla cream, red velvet cake, of course, carrot cake, pink velvet cake, and aheap of cupcakes so big that Ilost count. An outpouring of love in the form of sweets.
The efforts my mother put into the preparations warmed me to her, and for the first time in thirty-four years, Ifelt like the loved son Ilonged to be. As my birthday anxieties from before vanished, Idraped an arm around Erin who sat by my side.
“You have to try these.” Erin egged me on, waving apiece of each cake in front of my face.
Her adorableness and enthusiasm were all Icould see, and I, forever hers, took abite of the chocolate cake. And then she did the same, agiant spoonful of cake moving directly to her lips.
Not that, not the cream on her upper lip again, no, no, no.
It landed on her upper lip. She swiped it off with her forefinger, then looking away from my parents and directly at me, she sucked on the cream, her eyes shining in mischief.
Blyat.
My spoon dropped to the plate in aclatter. My parents’ attention turned to me and Iacted fast, stuffing my face with cake to give the impression nothing happened. While Ipretended to act like afunctioning adult, my mouth itched with the need to be on hers or on that finger. Iswallowed with aloud gulp and waited impatiently for the night to end.
When my mother smoothed her dress in her lap and there were no more cakes to stuff ourselves with, we finally got up and headed to the car. Erin and Igrinned at each other like people who truly l—liked each other. The sugar contributed to our mood, absolutely, but above all, it was Erin. Her optimism pulled this dysfunctional family together again, and brought asmile to my face on aday I’dnever thought I’dcelebrate.
In the driveway before getting in the car, Iengulfed her, kissing her hair and feeling every part of her pliant body. Grateful didn’tbegin to describe the whirlwind of emotions Ihad for her, and as Icradled her, Ihoped she felt it.
“Your parents are still at the door.” She giggled when Iwouldn’tbreak our embrace.
“Sorry Er, Ithink I’mstuck.” Iwould’ve done just about anything to prolong her laugh, the soft vibrations of her chest, the genuine twinkle in her eyes. “Icorrect myself, definitely stuck. No one can save us.”
“Too stuck for birthday sex?”
Then again, Icould’ve made her smile at home. “Never.” Inuzzled her nose and opened the car door for her.
“You’re so easy.” Ataunting, dreamy smile spread on her face when Isat next to her.
“Are you…” Iwracked my brain for the term Iheard her say the other day. “What’sit called, slut-shaming me?”
Another bout of laughter vibrated in the car, carefree like Iwanted her to be. “You sound so foreign when you say it.”
“Maybe so, but Iam willing. To be your slut, that is.”
Slowly, Erin’slaugh tapered off. She placed her hands between her cheek and the car seat, resting on it with adreamy smile on her face while Isteered us home. “It wasn’tso bad, was it?”
“Ihad agood time, although Idon’tknow if the answer will remain the same without the overload of sugar in my system.” Idodged her when she punched my shoulder playfully. “If I’mbeing serious, I’ve never had abirthday like this. Thank you.”
“I’mproud of you for showing up. You’re abrave man, Thomas Cooke,” Erin said without ashred of humor.
But Icouldn’thave taken the credit for myself. “After fifteen years of marinating in everything that went wrong, of being sure it was alife sentence, Iwas brave today because Ihad you by my side.”
“Meh, Ijust baked cakes then had the pleasure of eating them in good company.” She rubbed her stomach.
“You’re much more. Much more than you can imagine.” The car quieted down when Iparked, and Iturned to Erin. With one finger under her chin, Itilted her head up, stole her lips in one raw, meaningful kiss, and said, “Ihope you realize that.”
Iwent around the car, as Idid amillion times, knowing I’ddo it amillion times over for her. Before Imet her, the whole act of opening doors and pulling out chairs seemed forced, coerced. The women I’dbeen with—Icared for them, treated them with respect and that was that.
