Esme Chapter 11 free porn video

We are nearing the sprint to the finishing line, thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story. Please leave your comments! Chapter 11 Club Prince Voodoo was in Wynwood. They had to Uber over from their hotel. "Where are we going? And why? The club in the Fontainbleau looks pretty cool. And it's next door," Freya said. "Oh stop being such a married woman," Esme said, laughing. "You have the rest of your life for that. Besides, Marina," one of the freelance travel writers, "said this was the place." Freya laughed. "THE place, huh? Since when do you want to go to THE place?" "Stop. You're getting married. Let's have one more blowout weekend. Before you start having to drive to football practice." Freya smiled. "Football practice? Is that me or you?" Esme paused. "We're not talking about any of that tonight." They pulled up to the club. It was an old warehouse on a side street. Above the door was a neon sign depicting what she assumed was a dancing voodoo doll, a pair of mysterious hands hovering above. They stood in line for a while, the women, Freya included, in short skirts and dresses. In her skinny jeans and t-shirt, Esme felt simultaneously under and overdressed. "You remember that club second year?" Esme asked as they entered the main space. "Uh huh. The one with the dance floor you stuck to. The one out by the Meadowlands." "That's the one. We slept in your car and drove back the next day." "How could I forget? Monday, I'm hungover and I have to drive on Route 3 and through the tunnel. In rush hour." There were people dancing in the middle of the room. All the pillars had been done up to look like palm trees and Esme spotted several waitresses wandering around in grass skirts. "Shall we hit the bar?" The music was loud and she had to repeat herself and mime drinking to get Freya's attention. At the bar they found stools and sat. The bartender came over and Esme ordered two cocktails with fancy names. When she tried to pay, he shook his head and pointed to two guys at the other end of the bar. Before either Esme or Freya could say anything, the two guys got up and came over. "Hey, how're you're doing," said the taller one, with a southern accent. He leaned on the bar next to Esme. Esme looked at Freya who replied, with a smile, "I'm just fine. And you?" Esme heard a hint of Freya's accent. "We," and he looked at his friend, "are doing just great. So where are you ladies from?" "Downton Abbey," Esme said, to unsurprisingly blank stares. "We're women, not ladies. And we're from New York." She wasn't sure why but she felt like she needed to declare her allegiance quickly. "You don't sound like you're from New York," said the shorter one. He wore a guayabera that didn't fit properly. She could see chest hair popping out between the buttons. Freya smiled. "I'm from Charlotte, and my friend here is from jolly old England." Esme shot her a warning look but Freya just smiled. "So, what brings you lad..women to town?" The taller guy said, to her and not Freya. She wondered when he would ask her zodiac. He took the stool next to hers and the other guy sat on the opposite side of Freya. "I'm Doug and that is J.D." "Hello, Doug. A pleasure," Esme took his hand. "I'm Felicity, call me 'Fee' and this is my friend... Scarlett." She smiled as she saw Freya roll her eyes. They talked for half an hour. Doug and J.D. worked for a financial services company and were in town for a marketing conference. Doug would lean forward so he could speak to the whole group, his arm resting on the bar next to Esme. When he made her laugh, she found herself brushing up against him. J.D. kept trying to talk to Freya but she looked uninterested, sipping her drink through a straw. She noticed that Freya kept her left hand by her side, below the bar. "You dancing?" Doug leaned into Esme. "You asking?" "What?" He looked confused. Freya took J.D.'s hand and led him to the dance floor. Esme looked Doug up and down and said, as she walked to the floor, "Are you coming?" They spent the next hour dancing to awful EDM which, to Esme, was somewhat redundant. She could feel the bass thumping through her bones and thought about Jay back in Brooklyn. He was probably cleaning his cameras or watching whatever sports he could, while she wasn't there to point out how boring they were. =============== Jay walked into the bar and saw Patti from behind, her blonde hair now past her shoulder blades. She was in her usual leather jacket, black skirt and boots. 'Whatever else you are,' he laughed to himself, 'you're consistent.' He walked up and touched her on the shoulder. "Give me your money bitch and we're all good," he said, in what he tried to make a low growl. Without turning around, she said, "No." "No?" She took a sip of her drink. "You didn't say please. That's just rude. If you're going to ask for my money, say 'please.' Also, bitch? Hashtag Time's Up," she said, turning around and grinning. He gave her a hug and kiss. "Hey, Pats." She kissed him back. "Hey, honey. So she let you out for the night," she said, with a grin. "Ha ha. She's down in Miami with Freya..." "Oh yeah, that's right. Freya told me. Last big hurrah before the wedding." Jay laughed. "Does Esme know you two speak?" She just smiled. "So you're a free man and you used it on me? I'm honored." "Yeah, yeah, Patty. Shut up. So how did the shoot for Vanity Fair go?" Patty had done a shoot for Vanity Fair, of a new rookie for the Los Angeles Lakers. "Fucking nightmare," she said, sipping her drink. Jay put up his hand. The bartender came over and he ordered a Fat Tire, and another scotch and soda for Patty. "I thought you liked jocks. That they did what they were told." She took another sip. "Usually. It wasn't even the kid. It was his father. Kept telling me how great the kid is. How he should charge me to photograph him." "Jesus. Can only pull that shit there. Kid can play ball. But come on..." She finished her first and started on her second. "Cheers," she said, clicking his bottle. "Saw the shots you took in London. Of the trans kids." "Yeah and?" "They were good." Good was her highest compliment. Not bad was good. Good was very good. Richard Avedon and Annie Leibovitz got very good. "The girl looks so vulnerable. You got some gallery quality shit there, Stepanik." "Wow. Thanks." "You're really getting good lately. I think it's Esme," she teased. "Aw, look, you're blushing." Jay smiled and held up his middle finger. "Fuck. You." "If I haven't taken the opportunity before, why would I start now?" She called over the bartender. "7 and 7 for my friend here." She turned to Jay. "You got some catching up to do. And you're not getting there on beer." They each had one more after that, when Patty said, "we need to slow it down. I'm feeling buzzed and I have to see Pete tonight, unlike some people." He laughed and felt the warmth in his face. A couple more and he'd start to feel the hair on his head. He smiled, thinking back to college. Three drinks was dinner, not a buzz. "Cheese bowling," he said, pointing to the bowling machine in the corner. Basically, you slid a metal disk down the table to knock over mechanical pins. At some point, he and Pete had decided the stuff you spread down the table to prevent friction looked like Kraft Parmesan cheese, thereby giving birth to 'cheese bowling.' He explained this to Esme once and finished mumbling, "you had to be there." They played a couple of games when Patty said, "So how was Uniontown?" Jay was lining up his shot and said, "Huh?" She laughed. "So how was it? Not that I don't like seeing you but this was a little out of left field and I could tell Pete wasn't invited..." "Jeez. He's not pissed, is he?" She laughed. "he's not a girl. So how was it?" "Eh, the same as it ever was. Same as it ever was." "How's the kid?" She took another sip of her drink. "Aiden? He's doing great. Like seriously great. You wouldn't know he had anything wr...no, that's not right. I mean you wouldn't know he's anything oth...I mean, he's a regular teenage boy. Smells like one. Has a girlfriend and everything." She laughed. "Puts him one up on you." Jay responded with a middle finger and she continued, "Does Esme still feel guilty about y'know everything? Jay put up his hand. The waitress came over and he ordered a Fat Tire. They sat quietly for the minute and a half it took for her to come back. Jay took a sip, grateful for the time to think, and said, "I don't know. Aiden's parents told her not to and he seems happy, but yeah still a little probably. I don't know. How would you be?" Patty shrugged. "Good question. She didn't do anything wrong." "I know that and you know that and she sort of knows that, but still..." Patty looked him in the eyes. "What's up Jay?" "What's up what?" He looked at a spot just over her shoulder, and intently studied the band poster on the wall. She moved his eyes towards her. "Cut the shit Stepanik. What's going on? Did you see your family?" He nodded. "Everything OK," she said, with genuine concern. He pursed his lips and let out a long breath. "Come on Jay, just say it. It's not your mom, is it?" He let out another breath. "Nah, she's fine. It's Amber." Patty smiled. "What did she do this time? Bar fight? Punch some wuss in the bar and his girlfriend needed to defend him." He gave her the finger again then laughed. "Remind me again to kill Esme for telling you that. And besides," he laughed. "It's not like SHE did anything to protect me." "I'd call you a pussy, but pussies are strong. They push out babies and all." She must have seen something on his face because she said, "Holy shit. She's pregnant, isn't she?" He took a long swig of his beer and swallowed hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing. "Yup." "WIth that drug dealer guy?" "Yup," he said, finishing the beer and ordering another. He looked at Patty's drink and held up two fingers, pointing back and forth. "Fuuuck. What's she going to do? She going to..." "Nope. Catholic guilt and all." "Is she going to try and raise it herself? There's a train wreck waiting to happen..." "Nope. Try again." He wondered why he wasn't saying anything, why they were playing this guessing game. "Your mom is way too old to be starting again. And she would have a stroke if Amber put the kid up for adoption." She looked at him again. "What? What is she going to do? She's not dumping the kid on Stef, is she?" "Not exactly." She took his hand and squeezed it. "Stop fucking around, Jay. What?" He took a deep breath. "She wants us to adopt it. To raise it." "Us? Who us?" Patty said, as she took a long sip of her drink. "Me. And Esme. Me and Esme. She wants us to raise it." "And you said?" She looked him in the eye. "Oh god, are you fucking serious? You? Really?" "Thanks for the vote of confidence, Patty. I really appreciate it." He was agitated. "Sorry, Jay. It's just. Jesus effing Christ. I mean. She gets knocked up and you. And Esme. Are supposed to. I mean, I'm...but...that is just I don't even know what." He laughed. "Wow, that's deep...." She took another sip of her drink. "Well, this is fucking huge, don't you think?" He laughed. "Kinda." "I'm sorry for what I said, Jay." "Nah, it's OK. I get it. I'm just...you're the one person I know who'd get it, I guess. I mean, because..." She took his hands in hers. "Let's get a table. And get two more. She held up two fingers and pointed at a table. They sat down. "No bullshit Jay. What's going on?" "I told you. She's pregnant. And she knows she can't raise it. And she wants us to. She thinks we're its best chance to have a life." Patty looked at him. "No comments, Pats?" he said, with a smile. "Nope. This is serious shit. And I'm going to treat it that way. And, seriously, Jay. Why?" "Why what?" "Why are you considering this?" He got agitated. "Are you saying I shouldn't?" "I'm not saying that at all. I'm genuinely asking. I've known you how long? Twenty something years? I've never seen you look at a kid. And you haven't exactly been Mr. Family?" "I know. But..." "But what? Why? What gives?" "I just...." "You just what? She asks you and you're thinking about this. And, again, no judgments, but why? I genuinely want to know why." He looked down at the table and she said, "it's OK, Jay. I'm not judging you. This is just a big deal and you asked me to meet you about this, I assume, and you haven't answered me. I'm really trying to help. Why are you considering this?" "I...I dunno." "That is not a good reason," she said, looking at him sternly. "That is in fact a terrible reason. This is a kid we're talking about here, Jay. It's not that frog you took from the dead guy's place. This is a kid. If you're doing this right, and you better be, this is it for life. For the next fifty something years. And I dunno is absolutely the wrong reason. And you know that. And I know you. And I know you know and you're not telling me. And I'm not letting you leave until you tell me why you're considering this and we talk about it. Which is why you asked me to meet you. Right?" He took a sip of his drink. "When did you become such a chick, Patty?" "Fuck you, Jay," she said, laughing. "And I'm going to be a total chick and nag you until you tell me. So we can do this easy or hard. Your choice. Why are you considering this?" "I guess I feel like we can give this kid a chance that we didn't have." She rubbed the top of his hand. "That's better. That's a start. Why you?" "She thinks we're smart and the kid will get to live in New York and have two parents...." "Esme agreed to this?" When he didn't say anything immediately, she said, "Did she agree to this?" "She said that she's considering it. Seriously." "Have you two ever talked about kids?" He shook his head. "Have you two ever talked about you two?" "Meaning?" "You know what I mean. Have you two ever talked about you two, in the long term?" "Have you and Pete?" "Yes, we have." "And?" "And we're together for the long term. And you're deflecting the question, Jay. Have you ever talked about it?" "Not exactly." "Have you even talked about living together?" "We all but live together," he said, defiantly. She laughed. "Are you serious? All but living together is not living together. As long as you have someplace to go, you're not living together." He thought back to the day Amber told them and hoped it didn't show on his face. "So have you two talked about it?" When he didn't respond, she said, ""So no." He nodded. "So let's see if I get this so far. You haven't talked about your future. You haven't talked about living together even. But, now, all of a sudden, because your sister gets pregnant, everything goes on fast forward. You're adopting your sister's kid. Well, you are. But Esme's considering it. And this is a good idea?" "Why are you being so hostile," he said, his voice raising. "I am not being hostile, Jay. You called me. I didn't call you. You called me to talk and I'm talking. And you don't like what you think I'm saying..." "Stop it! I don't like what I think you're saying? What the fuck does that even mean?" "It means," and she took a deep breath, then exhaled, "that you still haven't told me why you're thinking about this. You have never said that you want kids. You have never discussed your long-term future with Esme..." He blurted out, "I know I love her. And I can't picture my life without her..." Patty smiled. "Well, that's a start. Have you told her that?" He felt his face flush. "Aw, Jay is blushing. Well, we have a project for when she gets back. Jay has to tell Esme that." "Blow me, Patty," he said, laughing. "Ask Pete. I don't do that anymore. Sorry. Now, back to the topic at hand, why? Why do you feel like you should do this?" "I don't know. I'm serious, Patty. I guess I feel like I should." "Why? Why should you? As opposed to Stef or your mom or, god forbid, the kid's own mother?" "Amber can't. You may as well as save money for bail now." She rolled her eyes. "Fine. And your mom?" "She's too old. Come on, she's 60 years old. She's supposed to take care of an infant full time? She'll be 78 when the kid graduates high school." "Agreed. So why you? Why not Stef?" "She didn't ask Stef. And I don't think Stef is offering. So, it's me." "Why is it you? Excuse my bluntness, but this is a white kid. A white American kid. There's plenty of people who would line up to adopt this kid. And would pay for her medical care while she was pregnant." "Mom won't let that happen." "So because your mom doesn't believe in adoption, it's your job? Not sure how we get here from there. Why do you feel like it's your job? Other than attrition? Why?" He took a deep breath. "I'm its uncle. I can do it so I should do it. OK? Is that good enough?" She took a sip of her drink and held up two fingers. "Is it good enough for you? Pete and I will be here for you, if you do this. But, this is for keeps. You and the kid. Regardless of you and Esme, it's you and this kid. Your kid with Amber's shit..." "Amber's not that bad. She just," and he felt himself tear up. "Jay, look at me. It's OK. Whatever you do. Yes or no, it's OK. But you owe it to this kid to know why you're doing this. Fuck, look at this room. See that girl at the bar?" She pointed to a girl with lank brown hair who was snarling at a guy. "She's with that guy because her dad resented the fact that he couldn't pursue his dream of being a singer-songwriter and he took it out on her and her mom..." Jay laughed. "Yeah, yeah..." She laughed. "I'm not finished. That guy, coming out of the bathroom? He can't get it up without telling himself, 'see, mommy? Someone loves me!'" Jay looked at another guy, standing by the pinball machine. "That guy? Mom dreamed of being a rodeo clown, the first woman rodeo clown, but she got pregnant and she took it out on him and now he needs someone to tie him up..." She laughed. "Rodeo clowns and B & D? Jesus, Stepanik, what did your mom do to you?" He laughed. "I'm not going there." "Good. There is not enough alcohol for that. Is this some kind of guilt?" He took a deep breath, but didn't say anything. "Jay, what?" "I just wonder...and I dunno." "You can fix shit, is that it? Fuck, I had two parents and look at me. You can't fix shit. And if you think you can, just stop this shit right now and say no. Because you can't and all that will happen is you'll get pissed and the kid ends up fucked up worse than if it stayed back there. I'm not working tomorrow so we can stay here all night, if you want." "Thanks. That's not the only reason," he said, not sure if he believed that. "Anytime. Did you ever want kids?" "I dunno. I don't dislike them." "That's a reason to order a meal," she said, laughing. "Not to have a kid." "I mean, I never thought about it. When have I ever had reason to think about it?" "There was you and the girl with the pentagram tramp stamp..." "Right up there with you and that guy with the mountain man beard. Before every hipster douche had them." She shuddered. "Call Pete now and tell him why we're never having sex again. Did you think about it with Esme?" "No." "No?" "She'd kill me for this, so you can't repeat it. She can't because you know..." Patty looked down. "Oh shit. I am sooo sorry. I can't believe I said that. I never..." "Don't go there, OK? Let's just say she can't and so we never thought about it...." "Deal," she said, the redness in her face diminishing. "What did she say when you asked her?" "That she's seriously considering it. Then she talked about how we'd handle it. I mean, the logistics and all." "Have either of you cared for a baby?" Jay shook his head. "Held one?" "Lots of guys haven't," he mumbled. "Yeah, but usually the girl has. None of my business but has she?" "I don't know. She liked her friend's kid..." "OK, Jay. You have an assignment when she gets back. First, you tell her you love her and want to be with her long term. Second, you ask her what she's thinking. Third, you ask whether she's ever taken care of a kid." "Yes, ma'am," he said, smiling. "Uh huh. You can be a great uncle and be there for it. You don't have to be its father." "I get it," he sighed. "I am serious. And I will follow up. If you decide to do this - because you want to, not because you think you have to - Pete and I will be there for you. We won't take care of it or anything, not until it's a teenager and we can be a bad influence and al, but we will be there." He smiled. "I know. Thanks," and he gave her a hug. Then he held up two more fingers. --- --- Breakfast and remorse. Esme knocked gently on Freya's door. Even with her gentle taps Esme winced. It was a while before the door opened. Her hair was standing up and her makeup had run. Freya looked like a singer from an 80s soft rock band. "Come in." Freya mumbled. Esme sat on the bed while Freya made them coffee with the little kettle. It tasted bad but that didn't matter. "I'm going to shower." Esme just nodded rather than speak. As she heard the water turn on Esme laid back on the bed, closing her eyes. Outside the window the sea and the sky looked calm and blue. She wondered what Jay was doing. The water turned off and Esme pushed herself up. Freya re-entered the room covered in towels. "That was some night." Freya sat down next to her. Esme nudged her. "Did we really end up at a foam party? I think my black jeans are ruined." Freya laughed, then held her head. "Ow. Oh, then you'll have to put on one of the twenty other pairs you have..." "There are a couple of charcoal grey ones." By the time they made it downstairs, the breakfast rush was over. The two women sat and drank coffee while a team of waiting staff refreshed the buffet. Esme's eyes followed the pancakes wondering, as always, at the notion of dessert as breakfast. It beat muesli, but she could never get used to it. "So, what do you do during the day in Miami?" Freya shrugged. "I dunno. The beach? Shopping?" "The beach sounds good." There was a pause. "I don't think I could handle shopping. All the people." Esme chose her Jean Seberg look, this time with a yellow one piece and a red shirt. Freya had her bikini 'working on the tan for the wedding night', which made Esme laugh. She wondered aloud if Freya thought Jason was working on his tan for her. Spring Break was a few weeks away, so the beach wasn't too crowded. There was an area where a group of men were working out ostentatiously in public. Esme had once interviewed a group of gym bunnies for a weekend article. She'd been surprised at how shy the guys had been. After a couple of hours of laying there, Freya said, "Want to get some frozen yogurt?" Esme made a face. Frozen yogurt was ruined ice cream as far as she concerned. They laid in the sun for another half an hour. Esme felt a little better, but wondered if her sweat smelled of alcohol. She felt a shadow move across her. "Move," she said, looking up. She put a hand over her eyes and saw the silhouette of a man, a large man. "Hey, you girls new to town?" Esme pushed herself up. "Who wants to know?" He laughed. "I'm Jed," he said, gesturing to a group of young twenty- somethings playing beach volleyball. The men were large and the women thin and barely dressed. "We need two more for a game. Want to play?" She looked at Freya, who shrugged. "Sure. Why not?" "So where are you from?" "What makes you think I'm not from here?" Esme said, with a smile. He held up her arm. "You clearly don't live anywhere near sun." "I get more than enough sun thank you." Big yellow thing in the sky, not to be trusted. "So where?" He spoke with the confidence of someone used to getting his way. "New York. What about you?" "Originally, Albany, Georgia. Now, I'm from the U," he said, holding his hands in a 'u' shape. "What is the 'U,'?" Esme laughed. One of the other guys laughed loudly. "Seriously? You don't know?" "Enlighten me," she said, amazed at their arrogance. "The University of Miami," Jed said. "So shouldn't you be in class or something?" She looked at Freya, who stood a couple of steps back. She had a look in her eye that Esme couldn't quite place. Not contempt and not interest, but a mix of both. One of the other men, a large African American, laughed. "We're done with that. Season's over. Preparing for the combine." Esme had no idea what that meant, nor did she care. She wanted to play volleyball, although she wasn't exactly sure why. Freya looked at him and said, "shouldn't you be in California then?" A blond woman standing by the net laughed and Jed said, "excuse me." Freya looked at him and said, "you must not be a first rounder then. All those guys are training in California." Then she smiled. "at least the guys from a real school." Jed and another one of the guys laughed. "Excuse me?" Freya held her arms perpendicular to her body and started moving them up and down, so her palms kept touching. She looked absurd but clearly she was the only one who thought so, since the others started laughing and hooting. "When's the last time they won a national title," one of the others said. "Um, what's going on?" Esme said. "Gator chomp," Freya laughed. "University of Florida. Where my dad played." Esme nodded. She thought it ridiculous and then remembered her father getting into it with some Man U supporters. Freya continued and said, with a smile, "let's see if you can play volleyball. Come on, Esme." The teams were already even so Esme and Freya were split up between them. Before they could be chosen Freya moved so she was standing with Jed's team. Esme thought she caught a moment's look of disappointment cross his face, but he hid it well. The first time the ball came to Esme she managed to hit it away easily enough. The second time it sailed over her head. Esme overreached and toppled backwards. Jed darted around the net and helped her up. Looking around, Esme caught sight of Freya watching, her arms folded. For the rest of the game, Esme was a bag of nerves. Often falling over and several times colliding with her own side. She felt worse when the other side, Jed in particular, started punting the ball gently to her. She could feel her face heating up every time the tall blonde girl on her team called out 'good shot Esme' each time she managed to successfully hit it back. When the game ended, Esme went over to Freya, who was looking a little happier than before. "Have fun?" "Lots." Freya said, in a oddly sharp tone. "I always like seeing my kitten playing with a ball of yarn." Esme gave her a side look. Was there an edge in her voice? "Hey," Jed had run over. He was tall and when he stood close Esme had to look up. His broad shoulders made her think of Jay. "We're going to the pool bar at the Fontainbleau. You in?" Before Esme could answer Freya cut in. "Sure sugar. Sounds like fun." Esme looked at her, she wasn't sure what her friend was up to. "Should we change first?" Esme muttered. Jed stood next to her. "Don't worry about it. You're fine. This is Miami," and he made the 'U' sign again, as if it were some sort of talisman. "Uh, sure. Let us get our stuff." The group went off and she turned to Freya, who was crossing her arms again. They followed far enough behind to be out of earshot, not that Jed and his group were listening. "Are you sure about this?" "Of course, Kitten. Stop asking." As far as Esme could think, she'd only asked her once. The bar was poolside and looked over the beach. From down the beach, she could hear music playing, hip hop. By the time they arrived, there were shots lined up on the bar. "Drink up," Jed said. "What do we owe you," Esme said, to laughter from everyone, including Freya, who seemed to be channeling someone Esme didn't know. Jed laughed. "Don't worry about it. And don't ask again." He put his hand on her shoulder. He was smiling but she felt his presence, his size, in a way she didn't with Jay. Esme and Freya each pounded their shots, while the three other women in the group whooped. The tables were round and tall, the sort you stood at. One drink was quickly followed by another. The blonde came and joined their table. "So you live in New York," she said, with a smile. Esme smiled and nodded, feeling the warmth of the last drink in her stomach. "Where are you from originally? I mean, the accent?" Esme smiled. "Brooklyn," which got a small laugh. "I'm English. I moved to New York for graduate school." The blonde smiled, looking at Jed. "My friend is at NYU Law School. I go up every so often. I go there and you come here. Funny." Esme smiled, while the blonde and a Hispanic woman talked about some club they were going to that night. Freya drank quickly. "Hey girls." Jed returned. He placed a hand on the small of Esme's back, but removed it quickly before she could protest. "We're not girls!" That was the best Esme could do. "Kitten's got claws." Jed smirked. Freya laughed, spitting out some of her drink. Before Esme could say anything else, Jed started talking. Directly to her. Again he stood too close. Again she felt unnerved by how tall, how big he was. Jay was tall and broad-shouldered too but he wore his height differently, more loosely. Maybe she was biased, but Jay was more welcoming, like an oak offering shade too all. 'OK,' she thought, 'I need to slow down. I've had too much.' Then she noticed Jed's hand resting lightly on her hip. "Hey," she said, as Freya coughed, then said, 'I'm going to get some air.' They were outside. She watched as Freya wobbled off. "I'm going to keep an eye on my friend," Esme said. Jed smirked. "She's fine," he said, putting a hand around her waist. "Excuse me," she said, trying to move his hand. She noticed the blonde staring at the floor, then the pool, but not her and Jed. "I want to make sure Freya's OK." He kept smirking. "She'll be fine." Esme tightened her grip on his wrist. "She will be, when I'm there. Excuse me," she said, pushing his away as hard as she could. He moved it away. She knew that, had he wanted, he could have kept her here but wasn't. "No worries," he said, the smirk never leaving his face. "Whatever." Esme walked off, thinking, 'dick.' She saw Freya wobbling down the steps to the beach and ran to her, feeling the effects of one too many shots. "Freya!" Freya grabbed onto the railing. "I'm fine," she snapped. "Why don't you go back to Jed?" "What?" Esme said, positioning herself between Freya and the bottom of the stairs. "I said I'm fine!" Freya said, trying to maneuver around her. 'Thank god, she could never handle her liquor,' Esme thought. "And I say you aren't." "Go back to Jed," Freya yelled. Esme hoped nobody could hear, and remembered for the music at the bar. She couldn't hear conversation there, much less here. Esme looked at her, and thought how unfair it was. "I don't want Jed. I have Jay. And I brought you here. For a fun weekend. Which we're obviously having now." She started to dance, as clumsily as she could. "Fun, right?" Freya sat on the steps and started to laugh. "Sorry, Esme," she said, and she started to cry. Esme looked at her. "What's wrong? My dancing never got that response before," she tried to joke. Freya leaned on her shoulder and started to cry. "It's not that. It's just....I don't know...it's like I'm invisible....guys don't...." Esme laughed. "I know. It used to be all you and the gawky tall thing tailing along." "I wouldn't put it like that." "I would. And I'm fine with that. I never wanted to be the centre of attention. I had enough of that at high school." Freya stopped for a moment before pulling Esme closer. "Sorry," she spoke softly, "I didn't think of it like that." "No worries, Freya," Esme said, wiping Freya's nose with her shirt. "I'm glad you didn't." "I don't. I never did. I...just...Jed's an asshole." "You think?" Esme said, laughing. Freya gave her a smile. "Yeah, well, guys like that used to...not that I want them...I have Jason....and I wouldn't." Esme smiled. "You may not want to go to the party but you want to be invited?" "Yeah, and the invitations don't come as much anymore," and she started to tear up again. Esme pulled her close. "Yeah, well, I wasn't looking to be invited to THAT party anyway. He's a dick. He wanted me because he thought I was something on a list. Insecure English girl. Check. Like if Saanvi was here, he'd want to check off South Asian. You? You're...too strong for him. He's just scared of you." Freya looked at her and smiled. "Sure, Kitten. That's it. Thanks." --- They went to dinner, at a restaurant in the Aventura Mall. "I cannot believe you dragged me here," Freya said. "This is our big send-off and we're," and she looked around, at the people dripping ice cream on themselves, the tourists, the parents and the elderly, "at the mall. Between this and the party you took me to so you could hook up with Jay, you really need to work on your big send-offs." Esme laughed. "Oh stop. You'd think you'd be used to malls, being from the suburbs." Freya looked at a mother pushing a stroller, a baby sleeping and a toddler standing on an attached board screaming. Then she looked at Esme, smiled and said, "Yes. And I moved to New York for a reason." Esme sighed. "fine. We'll get something to eat and then go back. Then we can have your night of partying." She waved her hand in the air and yelled, "woo hoo," which made several people turn around. Esme smirked at her. They stared off at the entrance to Topshop. 'Jesus,' she thought. 'I can't escape them, can I?' She watched three girls, no older than twenty, walk in, giggling. It made her think of Freya and Amanda all those years ago. She looked over at Freya, who was staring at the girls, with an almost anthropological curiosity. Freya looked at her and said, "what?" Esme smiled. "Nothing. Would you go back if you could?" Freya rolled her eyes and laughed. "Oh god no. Not for all the money in the world." Esme laughed and thought, 'all the money? Seems like a fair trade. Although where would you use it?' Freya continued, "God, I was a mess then." Esme looked at her. "I knew you then. And I know messes," she said, pointing to herself. "You were not a mess." Freya laughed. "Uh, yeah, I was. Maybe I hid it better than you..." "Most everyone did," Esme looked down at her feet. "True. But I was a total mess. Would you go back, if you could?" "Are you serious? Absolutely not!" She shuddered, thinking of how closed off she'd been. The nights spent alone in her room, frightened that the laughter in the hall was about her. "Even knowing what you know now?" "No. No. Absolutely bloody not. I wouldn't want to know that girl, much less be her." Freya took her hand. "I liked that girl, actually." They walked along, staring in the stores. They went into Nordstrom's, where Freya bought a lacy bra and panty set. Esme joked, "Oooh. For the wedding night?" "Shut up," Freya laughed. "Let's see if they have your size. Maybe they have a two for one sale." Esme picked up the bra and stared at it. Her usual choice was cotton, black or white. Is this what Jay wanted? She pictured herself in bed and Jay looking at her in it. She couldn't decide what to do. So she put it down. They passed a Gymboree store and watched a little boy climb to the top of a slide and slide down, arms up triumphantly. Until his older sister pushed him down. Then he screamed. "Did you do that to Jeremy?" Esme laughed. Freya's younger brother Jeremy was a dentist in Atlanta, married with a three year old son and another on the way, as Freya's mother never tired of pointing out. Freya laughed. "Um, yeah. Didn't Nick do that to you?" "Only when he was awake," she laughed. They watched the little kids run around the store, their mothers - and it was all mothers, save one grandfather (or second marriage dad) - chasing them around. The two of them were deep in conversation as they walked past the Lego store. Esme felt herself going over as her foot connected with the wheel of the stroller. She only just had time to take in the woman as Freya grabbed her arm. The woman seemed more buggy and named store shopping bags than person. "Oh god, I'm so sorry..." Esme started, looking at the two toddlers, both of whom had started to cry. But this new woman wasn't paying her any attention. "Freya?" Freya looked like she'd been caught stealing porn magazines. "Freya Parsons?" "Huh?" There was a pause. "Cynthia?" The woman nodded. "Oh my god, it's been forever! What are you doing here?" "Visiting the witch-in-law," she said, laughing. "I needed a break. Know what I mean?" Freya smiled. "I was just back home," which got a laugh and then she and the other woman started talking loudly and quickly. Esme watched like a bemused tennis fan. Cynthia was tall, with hair a shade of blonde that only comes out of a bottle, an expensive bottle but a bottle nonetheless. Her clothes looked too new and clean to be worn in the vicinity of two young children. It was a while before Freya noticed her. "Oh, sorry. This is my friend Esme. Esme this Cynthia, we went to school together." "With Amanda." The name of her nemesis slipped out. "Oh god, please tell me you're not still hanging out with her." Cynthia's tone of voice endeared her to Esme. Maybe she wasn't too bad. "I assume these are yours," Freya said, pointing at the two toddlers. Cynthia laughed. "No, I use them to pick up guys. Yes, these are Jacob and Michael. Guess who the dad is?" Before Freya could guess, she told her the name and the two went back to talking about people and places that meant nothing to Esme. Apparently, the dad had been something on the football - American football - team. Bored, Esme made a face at Jacob, who smiled then giggled. His brother soon followed suit. As she knelt down she was vaguely aware of Freya mentioning the wedding and sending an invite. If it made Amanda's day a little more uncomfortable, then she was all for it. She pulled another funny face, both the boys started giggling, which made Esme giggle and start playing peek a boo. Laughing, she looked up to see Freya watching her. Her expression was unreadable. Freya and Cynthia hugged as they said their goodbyes. Once she had left, Freya turned to Esme. "Lets get some food." "Real restaurant or food court?" Esme had looked at the map and saw that it had both. Secretly, she hoped Freya chose 'food court.' She wasn't in the mood for a proper meal and, more importantly, wanted Chick-Fil-A. The food court was busy and it took them a good half an hour to get their food and find a place to sit. The table they found was squeezed in between two potted pine trees and a table of young mothers. Esme had to hold her tray above her chest in order to squeeze past the parked buggies and bags of diapers. Freya looked distracted. She stuck her fork into her salad without looking, raising it to her mouth, not noticing the food had fallen off. "They look happy?" Esme spoke quietly, her statement half a question. "Uh huh." Freya still looked out at the rest of the food court. "I thought that would be me." She sounded distant. "What happened?" Freya looked back. "You did." Esme put her sandwich down, having lost her appetite. Was this her fault? Had she cost her friend the chance of a normal life? Her stomach tightened. "Sorry?" Her friend shook her head, like some fly was bothering her. "No. I mean thank you. If it wasn't for you, I'd be with that guy, whatshisname, from first year. I was sleepwalking into this." She paused for a while, Esme felt her face reddening. "Then I met you and you were so... different. Like you just didn't care." "I did care. I cared a lot." Freya reached out and took Esme's hand. "I know you do, Kitten. I mean all this. The B.S. of it. You could always see through it. I can't believe I spent how many years trying to fit in with this." "OK." Esme nodded. "But I think I need it. Some of it at least," she said gesturing around, "to fit in. I mean for the kid at least." She looked at the women and wondered if they would ever accept her. "Fuck it," Freya squeezed so hard Esme worried her fingers would bruise. "Are you OK? Thinking about Jason?" Freya nodded slowly. "I wonder why we're doing it." Esme looked at her, confused, and she continued, "the big wedding. All of it. What if it doesn't work?" "It will," Esme said. "You two work together." Jason had grown on her. He was, once you got to know him, fun. Not 'lost weekend' fun, more evening in with wine and friends fun. And he and Jay got along, which was important. "You really never discussed kids?" Freya looked at her salad, then Esme. "We did. Not like we sat down and said we'll have a boy and girl beginning on this date or anything. But I know I want them and I'm pretty sure Jason does. Maybe it would be better if..." "Jason's screwed up sister dropped one in your lap?" Freya laughed. "Um, no." They walked along a little more. "So what is up with you and Jay?" Esme took a deep breath. "I love him." Freya laughed. "Well, duh." Esme felt warm. "Shut up...I guess all of it was just...not what I expected." Or deserved. Freya smiled, happy to take her position as the sensible one again. "Well, it's here. And you two are great together." "Are we?" Esme said. "Really?" "Really." Then she paused. "Why do you think he wants to do this?" "I guess he feels like he should. Does that make sense?" Freya smiled. "Yeah. Why do you think you should? Or should you?" "I think I love him. And I think this is important to him. And I think...." "I think you need to call your parents." That came from nowhere. "Come again?" Freya kept walking. "I think that, if you decide to do this, you need to call them." Esme felt her throat closing. She took Freya's glass of ice water from her and gulped it. Then she sat back, and gasped. Freya stood there, waiting. Then she sat and put her arm around her, while she calmed down. The crowd watching dispersed. "What...the fuck..." Esme said. Freya said, "You need to speak with them." "I have nothing to say to them. Besides, why should I?" "Because," and she paused. "It's the mature thing to do. The responsible thing. You're going to be," and she smiled, "a mum. You need to show that you can be the bigger person. Don't they teach you that in England?" Esme laughed. "No, they teach us to deny our problems, thank you very much." She paused and said, "Do you really think I can do this? Your opinion means the world to me, you know." Freya smiled. "I know. And yes I think you can. For real. But I do think you need to face them. Even if they won't face you, you need to try." She looked at Esme. "What can they do that they haven't already done? Nick's not going anywhere... Saanvi and Cassie won't let him." And then she made a whip cracking noise. Esme smiled. "Can't I do something else?" Freya said, "No young lady, you MAY not. And use proper grammar." "See, you can be a mum too." Freya stuck out her tongue. --- They took a late afternoon flight back from Miami. They had thought about taking the last flight, but they had work and Freya joked, 'I don't think we can handle partying all weekend and going straight from the airport to work...' When they got through security, they both looked around, expecting to see Jay and Jason. Instead, they saw a row of men holding signs with names, none of which was 'Entwistle' or 'Parsons.' She debated whether to go to her place or Jay's, and realized that she needed to stop thinking like that. If they were going to do this - and she was definitely leaning towards 'yes' - she needed to think in terms of 'their place.' Esme looked for the express shuttle back into the city when Freya laughed and got on the taxi line. "Kitten, we are not taking the shuttle to Grand Central and then a train to another train. Get in line. Now, please." She was grateful that the cab stopped at Freya's place first. She looked out the window and wondered what she was going to say. And Jay. The cab dropped her off and she fished through her bags for her keys. She took the elevator up, grateful that he had one unlike her building. 'No,' she thought, 'my former building. If I'm doing this - and I am; right? - it needs to be my former building.' She turned the keys in the lock, but then it swung open. Jay enveloped her in a hug, then kissed her. "Welcome back." She laughed, not taking her arms from around his neck. "Welcome back indeed. Miss me?" "Yes," he said. He looked her up and down. "Look at you. You almost look not pale. So, how was the trip?" With that, she told him about everything, well almost everything. He laughed when he told her about the guys from the 'U." He called them 'convicts' and explained - or tried - something about Penn State beating them in the 1986 season. She watched as he, who was maybe seven at the time it happened, became invested in the story, which became a morality play. "How was your weekend? What did you do?" "I saw Patty," he said. There was something in his eye, something she couldn't quite read, so she held back. "Oh, how is she?" He told her a long story about a shoot for Vanity Fair and 'cheese bowling.' He laughed and said, 'you guys weren't the only ones to get drunk. Patty and I, I don't know, we just lost ourselves.' She noticed how he kept twisting around his watch band. And getting up to go to the kitchen to 'get something to drink.' And only filling his glass halfway. "What's up Jay?" Esme said, blocking his way to the sink. "Huh?" "Something's up. What is it?" He took a deep breath. "We need to talk," he said. Esme started to feel dizzy, nauseous. He looked at her and realized what he was saying, "No. No. Not that. Not that at all. Definitely not. I mean...we need....I love you. First off, I love you." First off? OK, not the way she expected, but, "I love you too. What's second off?" "Have you ever noticed how no one ever says second off, just first off..." She wasn't amused. "Don't deflect the question." He smiled. "Never date a reporter." She glared and he looked down. " I, we, need to talk about us." "What about us?" She wasn't nervous now, just confused. He wouldn't say I love you and then break up. That wasn't him. He wasn't one of those 'I love you, I'm just not in love with you' types. "Us. Long term us." "Yes, and?" "Like I said, I love you. And I want to be with you. All the time. So, I think we should move in together. I mean we're together all the time. You can move in here. Or I can move into your place. Or somewhere else." She smiled, finding his flustering charming. Nothing like the asshole from the cat guy's apartment. He kept stopping and starting, unable to find his words. After a minute or so, she decided to let him off the hook. "I agree," she said. "And I'll move in here. You have an elevator. If that's OK with you. I mean me moving in, not the elevator. We can't do anything about that, I don't think" He took her in his arms again. "I'd like that." She smiled and teased, "Is that all?" He took a deep breath. "We need to discuss the baby too." She put her hand on the arm of the chair, trying not to grip it too hard and scare him. She took a deep breath. "do you want to adopt it?" He looked surprised. "I think I should, we should. I mean, if you want." She thought back to the conversations with Freya. "That's not what I asked, Jay. I asked you if you wanted to. Do you want to be a dad? If Amber never asked, would you have thought you were missing something?" Esme was amazed that she was able to get that out, despite all the practice with Freya. He took a deep breath. "I've spent all weekend on this and I don't know if I would've thought I was missing something, but....yeah, I want to do this. I want to be a dad. Not an uncle. A dad. I think I can do this. What about you?" "I think you'll be a great dad," she said, putting her arms around him. "What about you? What do you want?" She looked at a spot on his shirt. "Do you think I can be a mum?" He smiled. "Mum. Sounds so classy. So much classier than, 'maaaa.'" "Twit," she said, laughing. "Answer the question. Or are you answering it? Do you not think I can do it?" She kept staring at his chest. "My eyes are up here, you know," he said. She looked up. "Yes, I think you can. Do you?" "I hope so. I mean I know I've said it before, but I never thought it was an option so I never thought about it and...." She started to say that when she was little, she wouldn't have thought about being a mum, since she wasn't, well, he knew. And there was no reason to reiterate that. So she went with, "and my role models weren't exactly the best. But I just want to do the best I can." "That's all any of us can do," he said. "What did I have? My mom and two deadbeats. We'll do the best we can." He looked at her hopefully. "So you're in? We're doing this?" She looked at him and said, "I'm in." She wondered if she sounded too grave. "Mum," she said, pointing at herself and "dad," pointing at him. "Bloody fucking hell." He smiled. "Should I go buy a pair of sandals and black socks?" She laughed. "Start calling little boys 'slugger' and girls 'princess.'" She took a deep breath and said, "you are NOT leaving this house looking like a tart, young lady!" "You, young man, are grounded. And keep crying and I'll give you something to cry about!" He started laughing. "If all of your friends were jumping off a bridge, would you? And I'm not their mother, I'm yours." He grabbed her and kissed her. "We're doing the right thing, right?" She smiled. "Well, what's one more fucked up person in the world?" He started rubbing her back and got a look on his face. He smiled. Well, leered would be more accurate. "What's this?" She pulled away, feeling her face flush. "Nothing," she said, getting up and moving away from him. He was faster. "Uh uh, Esme," he said, lifting her shirt to expose the lacy black bra. "Speaking of tarts," he said, pulling down her jeans to expose the matching panties. --- Jay left after a long brunch. It was a Sunday and he had to be in Iowa for the run-up to the run-up to primary season. She'd tried to slow him down but he'd been annoyingly focused on catching his flight. Now she was left alone in their flat. Since she'd moved in, she'd been secretly and guiltily hoping for a few nights to herself. Once he was gone, she found herself wandering around the rooms picking up the clothes he'd left lying around. She felt like an idiot. She picked out a record. One of hers, not one of Jay's rock albums, and she poured a glass of wine. She opened her book, a proper one, not a Kindle, and started to read. Ten minutes later, she put it down and finished her first glass. When the record reached the end of the first side, she got up and switched off the record player. Looking through Jay's DVD shelf, she um-ed and ah-ed, picking out five. Two were old French films. One a horror film from the 1960s Jay was always going on about. The other two were 80s movies, The Breakfast Club and St Elmo's Fire. To play a DVD she had to link Jay's MacBook up to an external disc drive and then connect the MacBook to the TV. She put in The Breakfast Club and went and curled up on the sofa. Two glasses in and she was feeling a little better. She checked her phone. It was another hour before her favourite place opened for delivery. Her phone started to buzz. She picked it up, expecting it to be Jay from the airport. The number was a non-American one. 0044 - back home. Nick, Saanvi? Both their numbers were already in her phone. "Er, hello?" There was a long pause. "Hello." An English accent. The man sounded old. His voice wavered. "Hello, who is this?" "Esme?" "Yes." The voice made her think of her grandad, but he had died years ago. "It's your father." Esme's heart stopped. "Dad?" Her voice was little more than a whisper. "Esme, how are you?" "OK?" She had no idea where to start. Silence. "Good, good." More silence. "How are you... and mum." She nearly choked on 'mum'. "Can't complain." "No. Good." Desperately she tried to think of something to say. "Nick says you've retired." "Yes." The line went quiet for a moment. "I've been getting out to the golf course," he actually sounded happy for a moment, "your mum says it keeps me from getting under her feet." Esme turned one of the DVD cases around in her fingers. The film was Bande ? Part staring Anna Karina. She'd seen it years ago at the Cornerhouse Cinema in Manchester. She'd been with a boy who'd managed to unhook her bra through her jumper. It had poured down that day and the tiny cinema had smelled of damp clothes. "It's been a while." Nine years, ten? Her adult life? She pulled her legs up under her chin. "Yes, well. We didn't have any say in that." His words had sharp elbows. You had twenty-one years of say in that. "What are you calling about?" "Nick told us." Esme felt like her head was buzzing. "About the... er, adoption." Adoption? He wasn't wrong. It just didn't sound right coming from him. "Yes." What else could she say? "Nick is being very difficult." His voice sounded whiney, and old. She hated him for it. "What did you do?" She started picking at her arm, then her neck. "Nothing!" She remembered the way he spoke. How everything was about him when he was angry. 'You disappointed me' or 'You are making it very hard for your mother and me'. She'd always felt small, insignificant, apart from when her brother had made her laugh. "Nothing? You did nothing?" She tried to cover the anger in her voice and couldn't. "Nick has never been anything but loyal to you, not that you deserved it." "We're just worried about our granddaughter, your mother and I... He doesn't listen." "There's nothing to worry about with Cassie. She seemed fine to me, when I spoke to her the other day. Actually, she's better than fine, she's amazing." She paused for a second, then said, "I hope our child turns out as well." "You, you don't understand," he stammered, his voice rising in pitch. When had he become so old? "I cannot lose them. I lost one son, then a daughter." Esme felt sick. "I can't lose them too." "Then say you're sorry," she said, with false resolve. "Me. Sorry... I..." "It doesn't matter what you think. What matters is that they know you love and support them, no matter what..." He cut her off. "I have to go now. We have friends coming over. Your mother needs me to go to Sainsburys." His voice had become cold and distant. Then the phone line went dead. "Dad?" But there was no one there. She threw the DVD cases across the room.