American Babe (18 page)

“Oh . . . okay. Yeah, I guess that's good.” Knox agreed, uncomfortably. I think he was in shock. We didn't talk about it any more. He just flipped on a movie and that was that. We just enjoyed our flight as much as we possibly could, knowing that as soon as we landed we were going to face the wrath of a mother scorned. Honestly, I didn't care. I knew I'd done something good for him.

“I
'm just praying that my mom is so happy for me that she forgets how mad she is.”

“Don't you worry about a thing. You are gonna be fine. I kidnapped you. You had literally no choice. I will deal with Veronica.”

As the escalator headed down into the depths of the baggage claim area of BWI Airport, I could just make out the figures of Veronica and Cara in the distance. Shockingly, they looked incredibly happy to see us. Thank God Vee was not freaking out. I was completely ready to make my case
and explain exactly why I took Knox, but I was thrilled that it seemed like I wouldn't have to.

Veronica and Cara started running toward us, and Knox was equally as excited to see them. They ran at each other and ended up in a group hug. The whole thing made me think of the opening sequence of
Love Actually.
I couldn't tell if it made me hate them all for that moment or if it made me hate myself for being affected by it.

“Mom! I made it. I was picked! They're going to put me on the show! I did the mushrooms that you love and Gordon smiled at me like, a bunch of times and everyone was so nice and LA is weird but so cool!”

“I'm just so relieved that you're back in my arms, safe and sound. We can talk about that later, Knox.”

“So pissed you got to go to LA without me,” Cara chimed in. She was wearing a jean skirt. No.

“You would have loved it, Cara. I saw famous people. I met Chef Ramsay.”

“Hate you.”

No one had really looked at me during this whole lovefest so I thought I'd make my presence known.

“He did great,” I said. “They really loved him for the show. Totally on brand for them. I think Knox has a real chance of winning it all this season. Based on what his competition looked like. Most of the other little people were in Gap Kids.”

It was weird. Veronica was definitely looking at me, but it was more like she looked through me.

“Babe. Don't you dare.”

Oh, okay. She was fucking livid. Boy, did I misread this situation.

“Veronica. I'm sorry I took him. I should have talked to you first.”

“
You should have talked to me first?
That's what you think would have made this whole thing okay? Babe, you need to come back to reality. You stole my child from my house and took him three thousand miles away without a single word.”

So much for not having to explain myself.

“But he needed to be at this audition, Vee. He made the show. I stand by my decision to take him because it obvi paid off in the end. I get that you are upset or whatever that we just snuck away, but you were not even entertaining the idea of letting him go. He is super talented and he deserves a chance to make something of himself. Honestly, it's a miracle that I came into his life when I did and provided him the opportunity.”

I knew as soon as the words left my mouth that I'd fucked up. I was tired. It was a fucking red-eye to BWI, give me a break.

“I'm sorry? Are you now insulting the life I can provide for MY son?”

“No. I'm sorry. That's not at all what I meant.”

“We're going home. Thank you for not killing my son.”

Then Veronica just grabbed Knox, who looked stunned, and they all headed toward the doors.

“Don't you want your luggage?” I yelled. But they didn't turn around. They all kept walking out of the airport, leaving me alone.

“I'm really SORRY!” I yelled in a last-ditch effort to make things right. But they didn't look back. I could see that Knox was trying to stop and turn to say something but they were not letting him. I would've run to him but I don't really run, ever.

I mean . . . I actually kind of get it. Like, I almost see where Veronica is coming from in this situation. Even if she didn't technically give birth to Knox, she still raised him and changed his diapers and all that other terrible stuff that you have to do when you have a baby in your house and there's no Mabinty. I'm sure Mabinty would've cut a bitch for stealing me when I was ten years old. If I was Knox's mom, I would have been totally fucking freaked out if someone took him on a plane trip without asking me first.

Yeah, so actually I completely understand why Veronica just walked out of the airport. She was 1 million percent justified in doing so. I think she will realize, in time, that it was better for Knox that I did take him to the audition. But
I'm gonna let her have her moment. I wonder if she thinks about how she is actually Knox's aunt in these situations. Is it constantly on her mind or has she made peace with it? Donna really just creates havoc wherever she goes. What a slut.

So . . . I was at Baltimore/Washington International Thurgood Marshall Airport at 6:15 a.m., alone. I had a few options: fly back to LA and leave this mess behind me like Donna would do, stay at a hotel in Baltimore (LOL!), or Scott?

Babe
Hi!!

Scott
Why are you awake?

Babe
Why are you awake?

Scott
Just heading home from the pool. Where are you?

Babe
Scott!!!! DON'T text and drive. You've already died once this week.

Scott
That's true. Are you here?

Babe
STOP TEXTING.

My phone rang.

“Hi.”

“Are you back in Maryland?”

“Yup.”

“Was Veronica still upset?”

“Oh, yeah. Piiiiiissed. Can you pick me up?”

“Um . . . where are you?”

“At the airport. I'll drop a pin. United Airlines.”

“Where do you need me to take you?”

“I'm not sure. I'm kind of feeling sad. Can you come get me and take me back to your place?”

“Sure. I'll be there in twenty minutes. Try not to make any racist comments to anyone before I get there. K?”

“You know what, never mind. I'll take an Uber to a hotel or just book a flight back to LA.”

“Stop. I'm kidding. I was joking at lunch, too, by the way. I don't think you're racist. Which I would have explained if you hadn't freaked out and bolted.”

“You're fucking weird, dude.”

“So are you, Babe. See you in a few?”

“Yeah.”

S
cott drove an old Land Rover Defender. Google it. It's one of the only cars on the planet Earth that can actually make a guy hotter. It's like the kind of vehicle you would get if you were going on a safari in Tanzania. It's rugged, not at all flashy, and death is guaranteed if you were ever to get in a wreck in one. I was instantly ten times more attracted to him when he pulled up than I had been when I met him for
lunch. Scott gave me a hug when I got in the car. He had Led Zeppelin playing on the car stereo. It was all working for him. Wet hair from the pool. Clean shaven, soapy-smelling, heaven. I really must have wanted to fuck him because I never say or think of the word “heaven,” on account of it being sick.

“Was Knox upset that he wasn't able to audition?”

“Oh, he did get to audition. He snuck out of my house in LA yesterday and convinced Mabinty to drive him.”

“Wow! Oh my God, that kid. That's pretty crazy. How'd he do?”

“He made it. He's gonna be on the show.”

“If Veronica lets him.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, when she called me freaking out when you first took Knox to LA, she was going on about how she felt like Knox wasn't ready for anything like this.”

“That's fucking stupid. He is soooooooooooooooooo talented. You should've seen how well he was doing at the audition.”

“That may be,” Scott said. “But I don't think she approves of the whole concept of him being on television. She said that the limelight had already wreaked enough havoc on her family, and that she wasn't about to subject Knox to that whole world.”

“I mean . . . I guess? I think that's pretty small-minded. But whatever.”

“He's her kid, Babe.”

I didn't feel like getting into the whole thing with Scott. Especially not before confronting Veronica about the fact that I had confirmed she wasn't Knox's mom. I felt more torn than ever about whether or not Knox should know the truth. But I at least knew I needed to have a face-to-face with Veronica, without anyone else around. I knew that she would understand where I was coming from about the whole kidnapping if she took a second to listen to me.

It was still only 8 a.m. when we got to Scott's cute little townhouse. It was in Annapolis, which basically looked like a town from the eighteenth century. Colonial or whatever. Quaint, quiet, boring. His house, however, was really nice. Like, super minimal, clean furnishings. Tons of light. Not at all what I pictured. He had some incredible photographs on the walls that he said his sister took. Unclear on that. Scott seemed like he had it all together. I wasn't used to being around a guy who had no “agenda.” Scott “was” who he “was” and he wasn't changing that because he was around me. Like the version of yourself that you normally present to someone when you are interested in them is “manufactured” to be more appealing. But this guy didn't know the first thing about that. I liked it.

“You tired?” Scott asked.

“Kind of.”

“You can nap in my bed. Door at the top of the stairs.”

His house was exceptionally clean, considering he had no idea that I would be with him when he returned to it.

“That's really sweet of you.”

“It's fine. Sheets are clean. Fresh towels in the bathroom if you want to wash up.”

But I wanted to sleep with him. I really, really wanted to fuck Scott. He'd just rescued me from the airport, and his place wasn't dirty? That equals let's fuck now.

I then had a moment of incredible insecurity.

Scott was not the type of guy that I normally fucked. Most importantly, he didn't care about anything that the guys I normally sleep with care about. He didn't care what kind of car I drove, what clothes I was wearing. He probably wouldn't have noticed that I was a couple of days overdue for a wax. It just made me feel uneasy. Like we were speaking two different languages. But the things that freaked me out about him were the things that made me want him. I just had to own my differences and put myself in the power position. I went from feeling insecure to feeling pretty liberated, actually. Knowing that he didn't really care made me feel completely free.

“I'd like you to come join me for a nap.”

“Sure,” Scott said, in a completely matter-of-fact way.

“I want to fuck.”

“Babe. I can tell when a girl wants to fuck me.”

“And?”

“You're hilarious. Yeah. I want to fuck you too.”

Then Scott just walked over to me, kissed my neck, and lifted me right off of my feet. I was straddling him and kissing him back. He literally ran up his stairs, threw me on his bed, and ripped his shirt off. He was really in great shape. Swimmer body can sometimes look gross, but not in this case.

When I say that Scott was aggressive, I'm playing it down. He completely dominated me in the bed. Like, out of nowhere. The following words were going through my head on repeat the whole time he was fucking me:
Oh Shit, Oh Shit, Oh Fuck, Oh SHIT
! It was on a loop in my brain. I was being controlled by him. Scott was doing all of the work. I honestly don't even know how big his dick was because we were staring into each other's eyes for almost every second we were in that bedroom. I wouldn't have dared take my eyes off his for one second to catch a glimpse of his peen. It felt biggish inside me, but, like, size actually didn't matter. Whatever size it was was making perfect sense to my vagina. And maybe this is impossible, but I could tell just by the way it felt that it was the perfect shade of pink.

He gave me three ridiculous rocket orgasms. It just never happens, or rarely. We all know how insane that is. So all the claps go to Scott. This was an absolute first for me. Scott gave me the first two without really breaking a sweat—they were gifts. Then on the last one we climaxed together.

“That was really nice, Babe. I like you.”

That's what he said to me, with a huge grin on his face, after we finished.

“That was better than nice. That was fucking phenomenal.”

“That makes me feel good to hear. I'm starving.”

“Me too.”

WHO AM I RIGHT NOW?

“H
i. I'm Babe Walker. I'm here to see Veronica.”

“I'm sorry?” said the receptionist at the front desk.

“Babe Walker. Author, friend, philanthropist. I know it's weird that I'm here, but it would take too long for me to explain why so I'm gonna skip that part and just let you deal with the reality of my presence.”

She had her hair in the style of a mullet. She didn't look happy.

“Who did you say you were here to see?”

“Veronica. She's a nurse here, right?”

“Are you here to see a patient?”

“No. I'm here to see Veronica. Is there more than one nurse named Veronica that works here?”

“One second, please,” she said, picking up an old beige phone and pressing a few buttons on the number pad. “Miss, you can sit down over there. Vee will come get you when she's able to.”

“Oh, it's okay, I'll just wait here. I prefer to stand.”

“Suit yourself.”

I offered her a smile, leaned against the counter, and examined my nails. My navy-blue manicure was chipping, but I was kind of dying for it. The perfect hint of grunge to complement my otherwise neopreppy look: a ribbed Proenza sweater in chartreuse, an asymmetric Maison Rabih Kayrouz miniskirt, and metallic Robert Clergerie espadrille chukka boots. I was giving you mature youth and wise vulnerability.