Edge and Belle

Chapter 2 (Belle): Ineligible For A Promotion

For two solid weeks, I'd refused to answer the door when Edge knocked. I hadn't blocked his number because I wanted him to know I was receiving his texts...and ignoring them. Same with his calls. His voice mails were all basically singing the same song: What's going on? Why won't you talk to me? Are you and West and Piper OK?

The last one always made me rage. Seriously? Like he cared about my baggage? According to Edge, Suitcase 1 and Suitcase 2 made the girl who was good enough to be a booty call ineligible for a promotion to girlfriend or wife.

Quite honestly, I couldn't figure out why the man was still calling and texting and knocking on my front door after two solid weeks of being ignored by a going-nowhere booty call. For heaven's sake -- Karen was right there, just panting and begging to return to his bed. Why work this hard for a mere booty call? And if he didn't want Karen, he was so gorgeous he'd have no trouble finding a replacement for me, maybe this time finding a woman with no excess baggage. In fact, I was thinking maybe someone should make a dating app for that: Booty Calls Without Baggage.

That night we fled from Edge's place, after West fell asleep in his own bed, I went to my room and buried my face in my pillows and cried. Why was I such an epic screw up when it came to picking men? My children's father just walked away from his two-year-old son and brand new daughter. West had absolutely no memories of him, but I knew the day was coming when West would ask where his dad was and I'd have to try to explain a little bit to him. More could come when he was older. Piper was just a free spirit and I could see waiting longer to tell her.

But after Frank had walked away from us, I had a long talk with myself, and I promised myself since the children had only me, that I would focus on them and on me, no distractions. I needed a plan to figure out how I was going to give my children the best life possible.

First item on the agenda was to get a college education. I was twenty-one years old and I had two children and a high school diploma. That would enable me to work, but I had always wanted to go to college, so I figured why not -- I may as well start now. I didn't need much sleep anyway.

It took me five years to do it, but I did, with a lot of help from a group of other mothers like myself who I found at school -- young, single, with children...oops, sorry, with baggage -- and we formed a group of five. We rented a house together from a very understanding landlady who had once been in our shoes, and it was crowded, but we made it work. We had less rent to pay than if we were each in our own apartments, so that helped with tuition. We coordinated our school and work schedules and made a commitment to stick together until we all earned our degrees.

It was just seven months ago that we all moved into our places, but we were still close and they were still the women I could call on if I needed anything, just like they could call on me.

Once I had my degree, a good job as a web designer and had settled us in our tiny, three-bedroom rental home, I decided it was time for a tiny bit of me time. I hadn't allowed myself to date. School, studying and work took enough of my time away from my children. I refused to add anything that would take away from my time with them.

Four months ago, I'd met Edge through a friend of a friend. We'd all met at a bar one night, my mom had the children for a sleepover and I was feeling happy and free to have a little fun. Edge had introduced himself to me immediately, and it was flattering and an ego-boost I hadn't realized how much I'd needed it. He was charming and funny and intelligent and he listened to me, asked me serious questions about myself. He was amazed I had an eight-year-old and a six-year old, but it hadn't seemed to bother him. 

With his friend vouching for him, and my friend vouching for Edge's friend, I'd taken Edge home. And that night, Edge had shown me a lot of fun. For the first time since before my daughter was born, so I was raring to go and it was a long, exhausting and extremely satisfying night.

I'd thought that was it, but he'd kept contacting me. We kept having fun and talking whenever I had a free night. He was exceptionally understanding when I told him my availability was limited because of West and Piper. But we managed the odd dinner here and there and then he began texting me. The texting led to calls at night after the children were in bed. I have to admit, I was beginning to love falling asleep right after his deep voice rumbled a delicious good night, sweet Belle to me.

Then a month ago, he texted late one afternoon to ask me out to dinner (apologizing for the last-minute invitation) and I'd told him I couldn't because I had promised my children a rare night out at their favorite pizza place. We'd found a tiny Italian place that made the best pizza, and the owner and his wife always fussed over West and Piper and treated them like visiting celebrities, even giving them some dough to play with at the table while we waited for our pizza. We loved their Margherita pizza with basil and mozzarella cheese.

Sounds great. Can I invite myself along?

I had to think about that for a minute. This was a whole new level, a whole other layer to our...whatever it was. I'd been thinking so long, Edge had sent a second text.

Sorry if I overstepped, but I'd like to see you and meet them. If you're ready for that.

That text told me several important bits of information. Edge knew how important my children were to me, and he knew that being introduced to them was a huge step. He was the one instigating the meeting, and it wasn't me asking him. So I took that as a positive sign that he was somewhat serious about me.

We'd be happy to have you join us.

And for the rest of that month, until I'd heard him telling Karen we basically meant nothing to him, he'd seen the children at least two times a week, managing to make it to two of West's baseball games and treating us afterward to pizza at our favorite place. He'd also invited us to his place during the day to swim a few times -- and one memorable Saturday, Karen had stopped by while the four of us were splashing in Edge's pool. That had surprised both Edge and me, but he'd gotten out of the pool and, after drying off that mouth-watering body, he'd walked her out and come back to join us in about two minutes, an irritated look on his face. This was after the first two gatherings at his place, so Karen and I had already met and declared a polite war.

So hearing him call me a booty call with baggage that had no future? It hurt. Deeply. But more than the hurt, it infuriated me.

Hearing him call my name as I let the children into the house after picking them up from after-school care? I'm not sure he was ready for what he was about to face, but I apparently had to face him now. With a quick word to the children to go inside and watch TV for a minute, I shut the front door and turned to face Edge.

He had the audacity to look somewhat irritated, I noticed, and then I thought, bring it on.