Then, Now, Always

by Mona Shroff

  Maya cut her eyes to Sam, expecting to see accusation and defiance. What she found instead gripped her heart. Rather than being hard and angry, his eyes were soft and pained. She turned back to her daughter. “I’m not mad.” She side-eyed Sam. “Really, I’m not.” And she wasn’t. Her daughter was okay, and if Maya knew nothing else, she knew Samantha was safe with Sam.

  He exhaled, and Maya felt the tension leave his body. She nodded toward the door. “Can I talk to you?”

  Samantha rolled her eyes again, but laughed. “It’s okay,” she told Sam. “She won’t bite.”

  Maya started as Sam gently placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her to the hall. The warmth of his touch was achingly familiar.

  He came around to stand and face her. The white in his shirt contrasted with the creamy brown of his skin. He set his jaw and gripped her in his gaze. “I had no way of knowing she was allergic, and until she showed up, I didn’t know she was coming behind your back.”

  Maya nodded. “Yes, I know. She kind of does what she wants sometimes.” Maya shook her head. “In any case, thanks for coming and staying. I’m sure you have work to do. I’ll stay. You can go.”

  Sam looked at her, incredulous. “I’m not going anywhere.” He peeked into the room. “I’m staying right here until we know she’s okay.”

  It was Maya’s turn to be incredulous. “What? You don’t have to—”

  “I may not have to, but I want to and I will.” There was no room for negotiation.

  Maya couldn’t help smiling. “Fine. But she’s going to make you watch soccer videos.”

  Sam smiled, showing that dimple, and laughed softly. It was a deep, low rumble, and Maya’s stomach did a pleasant flip at the sound. “Twist my arm.” He placed his hand at the small of her back again as they headed back in the room. Maya took a deep breath to calm her pounding heart. After all these years, why was she responding to him this way?

  Just before they reached Samantha’s bed, Sam leaned down and whispered to Maya, “Let’s not forget that you still haven’t told me why you left. I’ll be stopping by the coffee shop for that explanation. Tomorrow.”

  Well, that wasn’t going to calm her down.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  MAYA

  Maryland, 1996

  MAYA WANDERED ABOUT the drugstore with the basket hooked on her elbow. She tried to ignore the store’s music taunting her, Alanis Morissette going on about free advice not taken. She grabbed a bottle of shampoo. Then she decided she needed more eyeliner. She chose a new lipstick.

  She passed the feminine hygiene aisle and headed toward the snack area. Nothing sounded good, but she grabbed a can of barbecue Pringles anyway. Chocolate would be nice, she thought. She grabbed a bag of peanut butter cups and lingered awhile debating the merits of plain vs. peanut M&M’s.

  She couldn’t avoid it anymore. She headed back to feminine hygiene and threw in a couple boxes of tampons. For good luck, Maya told herself. Finally, as casually as she could, she grabbed a handful of pregnancy tests and bolted for the checkout.

  She was breathing heavily as she headed for her car and somehow made it home. Mr. and Mrs. Mehta had taken a few days off to take their children to the beach, so Maya had some time off, too. Her aunt and uncle and cousin were all at work. She would have the house to herself. She locked the door to the bathroom anyway.

  Fingers shaking, she fumbled, but managed to open the first test. Maya inhaled deeply, taking in the familiar scent of soap and bleach mixed with the floral scent of cherry-blossom air freshener, forcing herself to calm down and read the instructions.

  She read them three times to be sure she got it right. She peed on the stick, set it on the counter and pulled out another test. She repeated the process five times. She wasn’t sure why she chose five—it just seemed like a good number and it ruled out the possibility of a tie.

  She paced the small bathroom, intermittently biting her nails and running her fingers through her hair until time was up for the last test. Her stomach fluttering dangerously, she took a step closer to the counter. She stopped. She couldn’t look. This wasn’t happening. But she knew it was.

  With new resolve, or maybe acceptance—it didn’t matter—she walked quickly to the counter for confirmation of the answer she already knew. Five pregnancy tests each told her she was having Sam’s baby.

  Her head spun and she held the counter to keep from falling. What little she had eaten that day threatened to come up, so she grabbed her belly and slowly slid down the wall to the bathroom floor as her tears fell.

  Her fingers trembled as she ran a hand through her hair again, the coldness of the tile seeping through the worn mat and causing her to shiver. What was she going to do? How would she tell her mother, her family? Having sex before marriage was bad enough. But getting pregnant before marriage was advertising to the whole world your complete lack of morality and what an awful job your parents had done in raising you. Her mother had had it hard as a single mom, but society had sympathy for her. After all, her husband (the dog!) had left her alone with a child. Her stomach churned. There would be no such sympathy for her. The polite ones would avert their eyes and whisper behind her back. The others would stare and actively shun her. Not to mention she had plans for her life. Things she wanted to do. A child didn’t factor in, not now. She leaned her head onto her knees and cried.

  She had to tell Sam. Unbidden, the look on his face when Bridget had told him she thought she was pregnant popped into her mind. He had been kind, concerned. She thought of his gentleness. The sobs subsided; she took a few calming breaths and concentrated on the warmth in his eyes and how his smile lit up her heart.

  Sam loved her. He would stand by her. This thought in mind, she peeled herself off the bathroom floor. Of course he would. A small voice that sounded like her mother poked at her, reminding her that men were highly unreliable. She ignored it. She caught her bleak reflection in the mirror. Puffy, red-rimmed eyes, her brown skin ashen, her hair a rat’s nest.

  Maya turned on the water and washed up. She would go tell Sam right now. As she slowly brushed her hair and contemplated the conversation, the phone rang. She dropped the brush and left the bathroom to answer it. It was her mother.

  Maya gathered herself together. “Hey, Mum.”

  “Maya, how are you?” She continued without waiting for an answer. “Mrs. Chen from across the street was just telling me how much she misses your brownies, so I had to call.” Her pride and happiness bubbled through the phone and Maya’s vision blurred, the lump in her throat making it hard for her to breathe. Her mother would be so disappointed.

  “I know you’ll be home in a week, but everyone has missed you so!”

  It took everything Maya had to keep her tears back. She couldn’t even manage a “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Maya? Is everything all right?” Her mother’s voice was filled with concern. “Maya? Maya? Maya, say something.”

  Maya hung up the phone and dissolved into fresh tears. Her mother would never understand. She had to see Sam. It was 11:00 a.m. He was at one of his many jobs and wouldn’t be free until evening. They had made plans to meet at the park. She’d have to wait until then. She walked down to the kitchen and did what came naturally: she started to bake.

  Before she knew it, four hours had passed, and as Maya was just starting a round of chocolate chip cookies, she heard the front door open, and suddenly her mother was standing in the kitchen.

  “Maya?” She continued their conversation from the morning as if four hours and two hundred twenty-five miles had not passed.

  “Mum.” Maya forced a smile onto her face, but knew she wasn’t fooling anyone. This was her mother. “What are you doing here?”

  “You tell me.” Her mother’s gaze was fierce. She had come for answers. “I called you back many times, but you did not pick up. What has happened?”

 
; “Nothing, Mum. Stop being so dramatic.” Maya rolled her eyes for effect, knowing it was futile.

  Her mother put down her purse and glanced around the kitchen. Brownies, muffins and now cookies covered the countertop. She pursed her lips and studied her daughter. Without a word, she walked upstairs. Maya heard her mother enter the bathroom, and the blood drained from her head. No, no, no! In her distraction, she hadn’t gotten rid of any of the evidence. She tried to force her feet to move, or call out to her mother, but she was frozen with fear. The silence as her mother came back down was the loudest Maya had ever experienced.

  “You didn’t stop seeing that boy, did you?” The accusation was clear.

  Maya remained silent. The answer was obvious.

  “I warned you. I told you no good would come of it.” Her mother’s voice was calm and hard. Maya wished she would yell.

  “Have you told him?”

  Maya swallowed tears and shook her head.

  “Fine. Get yourself together. We’ll talk elsewhere. I don’t need my brother coming home in the middle of this.”

  Maya nodded and twenty minutes later they were seated at the back of a coffee shop, staring into coffees that were getting cold.

  “So, Maya, I suppose you were right. This boy was your mistake.” Her mother’s voice was firm and unforgiving. “How did you let this happen?”

  “I don’t know.” Somewhere in the car ride, Maya had found her voice. Angry tears welled up in her eyes. “I love him. He loves me.”

  Her mother shook her head, her voice full of hostility. “You know that means nothing,” she said. “He will not stay around and take care of you or this child. And do you really want him to? Never knowing if he stayed for you or out of a sense of duty?”

  Sunita reached for Maya’s hand, pity suddenly in her eyes. “Your father left us with nothing. You know this. You cannot depend on a man—only yourself.”

  “No, Mum. Sam is different,” Maya beseeched her mother. “He really loves me. I know it.”

  “You don’t think your father loved me?” Her mother dropped her hand, her nostrils flaring, her eyes hard. “We ran away together. Left the country! Left our parents, our families!” She leaned toward her daughter. “All so that we could be together. That was love.” Her voice turned bitter. “And look how that ended.”

  Maya watched a young woman walk by the coffee shop. She was laughing, and her eyes lit up as a young man approached and kissed her. Was it only yesterday that Maya had felt that carefree, that light? An image of Bridget’s frightened face flashed through her mind. Was that how she looked like, now? Frightened? And exactly how many other girls were there, right now, who had this same problem?

  Her mother gently turned Maya’s gaze back to her. “Unreliable, Maya. Men are unreliable.” She sighed, her eyes pained from a lifetime of living with the knowledge that her love was not good enough, and worried that her daughter would suffer the same fate. “Maya, honey. At least if you don’t tell him, he can’t abandon your child, the way your father abandoned you.”

  * * *

  SAM SUGGESTED A picnic dinner in the park that very night. It was just as good a place to tell him about the baby as any. Her mother was wrong. Sam would stand by her, she was sure. Mostly.

  She pulled into the parking lot as Sam had instructed. He had been very specific about where she should park. The evening was warm and sticky, a typical August day in Maryland. She paced the sidewalk, allowing the scent of the lake to calm her while she waited for him. She wanted this baby, no matter that it wasn’t part of the plan. There had to be a way to make it work.

  She paced a few more minutes and checked her watch. It wasn’t like Sam to be this late—or even late at all. She walked a bit farther around the parking lot, and sure enough, the powder blue Honda Civic was there. But no Sam. Puzzled, she looked around, and wandered down the path that circled around the lake.

  She heard them before she saw them. Hushed voices, Sam’s deep voice low and agitated, Bridget’s high-pitched and urgent.

  Maya froze. What were they doing here? Sam did not look happy; he actually looked angry. Before she could decide whether to interrupt them or wait by the car, Sam’s gaze landed on her, almost as if he could sense her presence. He looked relieved to see her, but did she see guilt flash across his face?

  He turned back to Bridget, and shook his head. She turned and upon seeing Maya, she grabbed her bag and turned on her heel, stomping away from Sam and toward Maya. She paused as she passed Maya to shake her head at her, and Maya could see that she had been crying. What was happening? Had Bridget gotten the results of her test?

  Before Maya could speak, Bridget continued walking away from her, and Sam came to stand by her. Maya was watching Bridget disappear around the corner when she felt Sam’s lips on her cheek. She leaned into him, as much from habit as for comfort. It had only taken one season to get used to him.

  “Hey.” He wrapped his arms around her.

  “Hey.” She let herself melt into him for a moment, inhaling the clean, masculine scent of him as she turned to face him. His hair was slightly damp from his shower, his face smooth from a recent shave. “What was that all about?”

  “Just drama. Don’t worry about it.” Sam’s lips were soft and gentle when they touched her own, and her eyes filled with tears at how much she loved him. She deepened their kiss and Sam responded in kind by pulling her into him, until finally he pulled away, laughing. “We may need to get a room.”

  “Was that about the pregnancy?”

  His eyes darkened as he glanced in the direction that Bridget had stomped away from them. In the next instant, his brown eyes filled with amusement. “Maya, I did not invite you out here to talk about Bridget.” He bit his bottom lip and looked her in the eye. “She found me waiting for you—and I promise I will tell you all about it, but right now, I have dinner.” He enthusiastically produced a basket, grabbed her hand and led the way. Sounds of children playing and the scents of lake water and sunscreen filled the air as Sam searched for a spot of grass worthy of their dinner. He stopped at a small clearing with a few trees for shade that opened with a breathtaking view of the sunset over the lake. “I’ve been waiting for this all day.”

  All signs of the fact that Bridget had been here were gone from him, and he was completely focused on her. But Maya couldn’t shake the feeling that something was up.

  Dinner consisted of dhokla, an Indian lentil cake, steamed and served with sweet and spicy chutneys, as well as fruit and wine. Maya offered to help lay it out, but Sam wouldn’t have it. She stood while he worked and stifled the urge to tap her foot nervously. Once he seemed finished, she prepared to sit.

  “No.” Sam held her hands. “Don’t sit. Not yet.” Maya raised her eyebrows at him, but remained standing. “Close your eyes.”

  “Sam, really?” Maya was getting irritated with his games. She needed to talk to him.

  “Come on, Maya.” Sam was insistent. “Just one minute, I promise.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Fine.” She closed her eyes. He seemed to walk away and return.

  “Okay. Open them.”

  Maya opened her eyes to find Sam down on one knee. Her hands flew to her belly and her breath caught. He had a small box in his hand and his dimple was in full display. “So, Maya.” Amusement and the sun added a golden spark to his normally melty brown eyes. “Heads, we get married. Tails, we break up.” He opened the box to reveal the small coin sitting where a ring should be.

  Maya’s heart began to race, and then her blood began to boil, even as she felt it drain from her head. She had just seen his ex-girlfriend stomp off, crying, with no explanation from Sam. If Bridget was pregnant, too, they’d all be tied together forever, and this was how he planned their future? And who knew how many other girls there were? It was one thing to toss a coin to decide which movie to see, she thought, but marriage? If t
he coin turned up tails, they were supposed to break up?

  “Is Bridget pregnant?” She spit the words out.

  Sam’s eyes widened. “What?” Confusion took over his face. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  He wasn’t answering the question. Sam couldn’t really love her. He might love her now, but what about in the future when he had all these other responsibilities? Would he love her then, or would she just be another responsibility he had to take care of? No. Maya wasn’t going to let her child be something on a checklist. Men were unreliable. With this realization, she wiped away her tears.

  “Maya.” His voice was tender. “I love you and I—”

  “Sam Hutcherson, are you out of your mind?” She shrieked at him, vaguely registering the hurt and surprise in his eyes. She turned on her heel and ran full tilt back to her car. He was calling to her, running after her. She couldn’t listen. She fumbled with her keys, then finally got in her car. Sam was outside her window, saying something, but she couldn’t hear him for all her sobbing. The car screeched as she pulled out and raced home.

  It was close to impossible to see through her tears. She couldn’t tell him about the baby. She just couldn’t. He wasn’t ready to be a father. He was just a boy. Her stomach hurt. She couldn’t breathe. He would leave her, just like her father left—just like her mother had said. Well, he wouldn’t get the chance. She’d leave him first.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  SAM

  New York, 2012

  SAM FOUND HIS way to the back entrance of the coffee shop that led to Maya’s apartment, and rang the bell. He’d told Paige he had a meeting, and he’d promised to meet her and his parents later so they could go to the appointment with the cake decorator together.

  First, he needed answers from Maya. He was getting them today. Right now.

  Sam missed a beat before speaking when Maya opened the door. Her hair was down, one rogue piece falling to the side of her face. He used to wonder how it was that whether her hair was up or down, that one piece always wanted to lie on the side of her face. His hand moved as if from muscle memory to tuck that strand back behind her ear, like he had done so many times before. Instead, he pushed his hand deep into his pocket. She was dressed simply in leggings and a sweatshirt, but he’d never seen a more beautiful woman.