Neighbors (15 page)

I feel a tense smile spread across my face.
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Dylan. I’m so happy for you.”

“No, for
me, Melissa. For us. None of this would be possible without you.”

That does
n’t make sense. My face twists. “What did I have to do with it?”

“Well, I was telling
Jack how great you are and how I can’t be without you, but I don’t want to move forward until I know I can make a more steady life for us.”

I’m surprised about his thoughts of the futu
re. My heart warms.
His future does include me
. Then I snap out of it.
But I don’t want him to base anything on me, not before he’s heard what I have to say. Once he does, he might be sharing his future with someone else.

“
Dylan…”

“Wait, Melissa. There’s more. So,
Jack offered me a partnership. I thought about it and decided it would be a good move for me, for us,” he corrects. “And the more I thought about it, the more I thought about how much I love you.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand in both of his. His smile morphs to a more serious expression. “These past few months have been… the best. The thought of this new venture with Jack made me realize all the things that are important to me: a steady job working on houses, which I love, and sharing every minute of every day, of every year with you.” The smile returns as he fumbles with his pocket. He places a small black velvet box on the table. “That’s why I’d like to ask you to marry me.” He opens the box. A beautiful round diamond in a simple setting winks at me.

Between the
three of us—Dylan, me, and the waiter, who is holding our food—I can’t formulate words. I want this so badly, but I can’t answer before he knows my secret. Moments feel like decades. I’m motionless and numb in my seat.

“Melissa?
Melissa, you haven’t answered. Does that mean no?” His smile fades.

“No, no. I do want to marry you,
Dylan, with all my heart. I love you. It’s just I…there’s something I have to tell you first. You may not want to marry me after you hear what I have to say.” I look down at my hands.

A curled finger lifts my chin
. “Melissa, you’re scaring me. Please tell me what’s wrong. Greg didn’t-”

“No!” I cut him off.

Large brown eyes implore me. My brain presses,
Tell him
. I inhale and sit straight in the chair. “Dylan, we never talked about our future. I don’t even know what you want in five years from now, or two years from now, or nine months from now.” I wait, but he says nothing. “Dylan, do you want children?”

“Yeah, of course I want…”
It’s then, mid-sentence that the imaginary light bulb turns on above his head. “Melissa, are you…?  Really?”

I look down at my knotted fingers.
“Yes. I’m pregnant.” I close my eyes and hold my breath, waiting to open them to find that he’s gotten up and walked away.

Instead, h
e jumps up out of his seat and yells, “Whoo-hoo!” The patrons surrounding us stop eating and watch him. He kneels by my side and picks up the little black velvet box again. “Let’s do this right then. Melissa Baxter, I love you with all my heart. I don’t ever want to wake up without you, spend the day away from you, or go to bed without you next to me. Will you, please do me the honor of being my wife and the mother of my child?”

I
can’t see him clearly through the tears welling up, but I answer, “Yes, Dylan. I would love to be your wife and the mother of your child.”

He lifts
me out of the chair and pulls me into his arms. My body feels heavy but relaxed. I don’t want him to let go.

The other diners applaud, and o
nce the manager of the restaurant hears of our happy news, he insists that dessert is on him.

Twenty-Five

The
next day, I phone my parents and my brother to tell them that Dylan and I are getting married. Dylan does the same and calls his father. I imagine Maria’s expression when she finds out. She probably really hates me now. Dylan also calls his brother, Michael, who is very excited he is going to be a brother-in-law. A call to Tracy results in a lot of excited screaming, which is the polar opposite of Dylan’s friend, Kyle. He is calm, cool, and collected as he offers a reserved wish of congratulations.

Once the calls a
re over, we eat breakfast. “So, what kind of wedding do you want?” Dylan asks as he eats breakfast.

I shrug. I’m
too involved with shoveling eggs into my mouth to speak. “I’ve already done the big, expensive party thing and that didn’t work out too well, but I’ll do whatever you want.”

“I think I’d like to marry you somewhere quiet, with just our fam
ily and close friends,” he says.

“That sounds nice.”
I stuff more eggs onto a piece of toast. I don’t have to hide my eating habits now.

“It also means we don’t have to wait.” He
stands and looks for the phone book in the closet. Flipping through the pages, he picks a name of a Justice of the Peace. “How about next week?”

I nearly choke on the eggs.
“So soon?”

“I don’t want you chan
ging your mind on me.” He winks.

“Oh, don’t worry
,” I smile. “You’re stuck with me forever now.”

He smiles and kisses my nose.
Since I’m already a bundle of hormones I don’t have too far to go before I’m ready. I clench his shirt by the collar and pull him toward me. I devour his lips in much the same way I did the eggs, and then I stand, pressing my body to his. “You’d better do me now. I won’t be this thin in a few months.”

“You’l
l always be perfect,” he manages between kisses. He takes my hand and leads me upstairs. He points to the bed and I oblige, lying on my back.

“Close your eyes,” he says. Again, I obey.
For several moments I don’t feel anything, but my skin is on high alert—waiting, wanting. Light fingers touch only the buttons on my shirt. My skin reacts with every inch that is exposed. Peeling back the flaps, I feel his warm lips in the hollow at the base of my neck. My pulse is rapid. I can hear the thrumming of my heart from the inside of my ears.

He unclasps my bra and
removes it before gently planting kisses along my neck, across my chest, and down to my navel. My breathing is irregular. I writhe under his lips.

He moves down to my jeans. I feel him
pop the button open and glide the zipper down. Anticipation is building. I lift my behind to help him remove the tough fabric from my body.

I
open my eyes to look at him. “Uh uh. Keep them closed,” he commands. And I shut them tight.

His cheek grazes the inside of my thigh as he works his way up my le
g. His hand is paralleling the sensation on the other leg. Inside me, the pressure is mounting. I need him soon.

“Mmmm, I love these little silk panties.” His finger
slips under the satin and circles my clitoris. Electricity flows through all of my synapses. My hips rock back and forth. “Nuh uh. No moving.”

My heart is pounding. T
he sensation is overwhelming. He continues to massage the most sensitive part of my body.

“You’re so wet,” he says. His voice is filled with carnal desire.
He slips his finger inside me. I cry out. He does it again. I can’t hold my hips down. They rise up to absorb the intensity. His thumb caresses my clitoris again. I’m at the edge. “Come for me,” he says and I can’t hold back. My dam bursts and I give in to my orgasm.

As I attempt to slow my breathing, he leans back and
pulls his shirt off. Swift hands work to remove his jeans. Once he takes his briefs off, he springs free. His eyes promise that I’m going to enjoy what he has in store a whole lot more than the last wave.

“Please,” I beg. I pull my knees up
and part my legs as he positions himself at the entrance of my shattered wall. With a fast thrust he’s deep inside of me.

“Oh!” I cry as I grip the sheet beneath me.

He offers his own groan. I look at him, my eyes pleading for more. He pulls back slowly and repeats the action. Another sharp push and he’s in me again. I cry out again. He eases back again, but when he impels me this time, he doesn’t stop. His rhythm increases. He pounds into me, increasing his speed with each thrust. His mouth is on me and we kiss, gasping for breath in between. I’m building again fast. My body is quivering. I can’t control any of it and I unravel.

He moans once more and
empties inside me.

* * *

“Gladys, I need you to take off next Sunday. Eileen, too, if she can.”

“Why? Will there be a terrorist attempt at the
hospital?” Her dark eyes peer over her bifocals.

“N
o. I’m getting married.” I lift my left hand and wiggle my fingers so that the diamond sparkles in the light. “It’s only going to be close friends and family and I want you and Eileen to be there.”

Then something rare happens. Gladys smiles
. I think I’ve only seen her pearly whites three times in the five years I have known her. “I knew you were getting yourself all worked up for nothing yesterday.”

Eileen struts
over. “I need you to find coverage for next Sunday,” I say.

“Sure, why?”

“I’m getting married and I want you and Gladys to be there.”

Eileen’s black eyebrows rise
high on her forehead and her mouth falls open. “Wow!” She hugs me. “Congratulations! Okay, sure. I’ll go to personnel on my break.”

“
We’re on break now,” Gladys decides. “C’mon, I’ll go with you.” She winks at me as she stands and takes Eileen’s elbow and escorts her to the elevator.

I cover the ER while they head to the nurse’s personnel
to get coverage for Sunday.

The rest of the week ke
eps me busy. I enlist Tracy to help, ordering food and hiring the Justice of the Peace to be at the house at noon on Sunday. After work, she runs around with me to the party store for some streamers and paper goods, and to a few dress shops for something to wear.

I purchase
a simple ivory dress that will hide the little bump that’s forming in my middle. “That’s your ‘new.’ You can wear my grandmother’s pearls,” she says. “That will cover the ‘something borrowed’.”

“I have a nice pair of pearl earrings
I can wear,” I add.

“Okay,
‘something old’,” she says. “Now all we need is something blue.” She taps her chin with her index finger. “Got it! Come with me.”

The rest of the week has me crazy with cleaning the house and scrubbing everything. I’m not sure i
f it’s because we’re going to have the wedding in the house or if I’m nesting early. Joey tells Dylan that I’m always this obsessed with cleaning and he has less than a week to get out of the whole deal. I don’t find my brother’s comment humorous.

The Friday
night before the wedding, my parents, and Joey and Cheryl meet us at the restaurant where Dylan proposed to me. We’ve reserved the back room. Tracy has been flirting with Kyle since he walked in.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” my mother says when I introduce my parents to Stuart and Maria. Stuart is so sweet as he engages my parents in conversation. Maria rolls her eyes and stares off to the side.
Apparently, she feels the people who are here to support Dylan and I are beneath her. I wonder,
What does Stuart see in her?

Dylan’s brother Michael is working a tour, so he won’t be able to join us, but says he wo
uldn’t miss the ceremony on Sunday. “I can’t believe my brother is lucky enough to be marrying such a great girl,” is his statement. I confirm my judgment.
He’s a sweetie.

Dinner is fantastic and
everyone is having a great time, everyone except Maria. She excuses herself and heads toward the ladies’ room. I decide I should go talk to her.
I’ll offer her an olive branch. After all, we’ll be family now.
Yeah, wait until she finds out she’s going to be a grandma.

Inside the restroom, I wait until Maria is finished in the stall and washes her hands. “Maria, I hope you’re enjoying your dinner. They have awesome food here.”

She applies a fresh coat of lipstick and smacks her lips together. She doesn’t turn to look at me, but addresses me through the mirror. “Well, it certainly isn’t Le Cirque, but it isn’t bad.”

I inhale and hold my breath for a few seconds before I begin
. “Um, Maria, I was hoping we could start over. Since we’re going to be related now, I thought we could be friends.”

She stops fiddling with her mascara and looks at me, still through the mirror. Her glare is scary. I hold my breath. “Well, I guess we’ll have to pretend for the sake of family functions, but I don’t see us sp
ending much time together.” Her head finally turns and she looks me up and down. “We don’t exactly shop in the same stores, Melissa.” She returns her attention to the mirror. She adjusts the shoulders on her silk blouse, then turns to leave. She stops at the door and faces me. “Good try though.” And then she walks out the door.

I grab her
before it closes and haul her back into the ladies’ room. Her expression is wild. “What do you think you’re doing?” she hisses.

“Maria, look, I know that you and Dylan dated a few times and it didn’t work out. I also know that you shot your arrow a little higher after that and landed Stuart. I don’t know what your dynamic
or you’re motive is, nor do I care; that’s between you and Stuart. But I’m really trying to be friends with you here. Why won’t you even try?”

Her eyes narrow and her mouth
shifts into a sinister grin. “Melissa, I wouldn’t be so quick to judge people. You barely know Dylan. You don’t know anything about his past or what he‘s done.” She purses her lips. “You don’t know what’s good for him.” She sneers at me. “And it isn’t for you to decide who I should be friends with.” She pulls her arm from my grip. “Besides, you don’t know that he’ll stay with you. I’m sure he’ll tire of you one day and then you’ll be looking for a replacement, just like I did. But I’ll have him back, one day.” She lifts her chin up and walks out of the bathroom.

I ask my reflection
,
Is she fuckin’ kidding me?

It’s then that I realize she’s right. I don’t know anything about Dylan’s past
or if he’ll tire of me.