by Claire Adams
Finally, they came in and took me to the back to a small triage-type area, and I gave them a sample. Then it was back to the drab lobby with the fake plants and tattered chairs that were a leftover from decades past to await the results. I sat next to Chelsea to be polite, but still didn’t speak. I had nothing to say.
Instead, I thought of every sacrifice I’d ever made to make my mark on society, to make a name for myself. I thought of all the hard work it took to even make my first restaurant, all the years of slaving away in a shitty kitchen in the middle of the ghetto. I thought of my future, branching out to 200, 300, maybe 500 All You Can Eat locations across the country. It was a pipe dream, but if I could pull it off, I’d go down in history with the greats of restaurant creation.
“Mr. Moore?” the nurse called, and I looked up. “We’re ready for you.” I stood, and followed her into the room.
And then I thought about how a baby would ruin it all.
Chapter Two
Everly
There was nothing I couldn’t do. I held my up head and walked proudly across the stadium, smiling like a crazy person as the President of Northwest Culinary Institute handed me my certificate. The paper was thinner than I expected, considering how much it cost, but my heart soared to new heights. I was officially a chef. Or, at least I would be as soon as I got a job as a chef.
The sky was as dreary as ever as I left graduation, but that wasn’t going to ruin my incredibly happy mood. I deserved some happiness. I considered all the restaurants I was going to apply at, making a list in my head as I walked through the crowd of families who had attended the graduation. I had a mental list of five restaurants, possibly even that new one opening in two weeks, when I found my own family. More so, my niece found me as she attacked my legs.
“Everly!” She slammed into me so hard that I wobbled a bit and then lost my balance. Before I could right myself, my knees caved and I found the ground.
Belle stared at me with wide eyes and a curled-up bottom lip. I’d dragged her down with me and the both of us were struggling to get up.
“Belle!” My sister, Lacey, scolded her 3-year daughter as Belle leaned against me to get to her feet. Lacey grabbed her by the shoulders and heaved her up. “I’m sorry, Everly; she only gets this excited when she sees you.”
I cringed a little, wishing I could say the same. It wasn’t as if I hated her, but she had a way of annoying me, and for some reason, she took to me like a bee to a flower, but instead of bringing me honey, she more times than not stung the crap out of me.
“It’s okay,” I said, and smiled as my mom and Lacey helped me up.
“Say you’re sorry, Belle,” Lacey said, and the little girl apologized. Her hair was the same as the rest of the women in our family; dark red and silky, and she had a dusting of freckles that only I shared. Lacey’s red, curly hair was clearly in need of a deep shampoo and cut, and stood out in stiff waves in a ponytail. My mom had her red hair cut short, and all four of us shared green eyes, though I’d been told mine were always the brightest and biggest. Lacey had once told me how she’d always envied them and thought hers were the color of moss.
“Congrats,” Lacey said as she hugged me. “I’m so proud of you; I knew you could do it. Now you get to be the family’s personal chef.”
Our mother scoffed and pulled me into a tight hug. “You’re going to need a better job than that. If an MBA in finance wasn’t enough, you just had to get a useless culinary degree. Now you have to pay them both off.” Lacey rolled her eyes and mouthed an apology.
I winced, though I was not surprised at how quickly our mom spoiled the afternoon. For some reason, me pushing myself to take more credits in school than anyone else annoyed her. Having completed my bachelor’s in three years and my master’s in a year wasn’t celebrated, but rather had become a point of contention. It was almost as if she didn’t want me to push myself. Tough shit. I was who I was. And being a chef was something that came up after I’d gotten my master’s.
“I’ll treat all of us to lunch; come on. Lacey, you need to save your money for Belle’s gymnastics, and don’t get me started on how much money you have to save, Everly.” She clutched her handbag tight against her breasts and shook her head, as if to shake that very thought from her brain. Lacey and I followed our mother to her car, where Belle was showing me how she could strap herself into her own car seat. I faked a smile and pretended to listen, but all I could think about was my mother’s disappointment in me. Nothing I’d ever do would be good enough. Not many people were good enough in my mother’s eyes. She’d always been hard on us and tough as nails. She took that strong single mother role to a new level, but only when she was single. When she had a man, she ignored us, and oh, how I wished she had a man.
“Everly, couldn’t you at least try a little harder, and would you please answer, Belle?” Lacey gestured toward her daughter, who still hadn’t gotten her car seat buckled properly.
“She said she could do it herself,” I muttered under my breath as I reached over and clicked her in properly. Lacey rolled her eyes and squeezed Belle’s hand. It wasn’t my fault if I just didn’t feel the same level of attachment to Belle, and I wished Lacey would understand that. I didn’t want my own children, so what made her think I would want to deal with hers? Don’t get me wrong, I loved the little fiend, but I didn’t quite have the instincts or the interest to pick up Lacey’s slack all the time.
“Are you in the mood for sushi?” Mom asked. Lacey and I didn’t bother responding. It didn’t matter what we were in the mood for because our mother would have her way, as usual. “Good, let’s get some sushi.”
After finding out that the wait for Mom’s favorite sushi place was two hours long, we settled for a burger joint. We took our seats, me grimacing as Belle demanded to sit next to me but refused a booster seat. I picked up the menu and scanned it.
“They have a wonderful lettuce burger here,” Mom said. I glanced at her.
“I eat my burgers with buns,” I said. Belle and I exchanged a glance, wrinkling our noses at the thought of bunless burgers.
“I’m just saying you could use a little moderation,” she said, and Lacey groaned. My mother had always been on the two of us about our figures, even though we were not unhealthy.
The waitress took our order, and I ordered a burger with a double order of fries just to see the grimace on mom’s face. She pursed her lips as our food arrived.
“So, what about that new guy you’ve been seeing?” Mom asked Lacey. She wrinkled her nose.
“Oh, Fred? No, our third date was a disaster. I haven’t called him since,” she said. “Plus, he freaked when he found out about Belle anyways. I don’t need that kind of man in my life.”
“You can’t blame him,” I said. “You didn’t tell him you had a kid until the third date.” Mom glared at me and gestured toward Belle. “Oh, come off it. She doesn’t know what I’m saying.”
Belle and I dipped our fries into her milkshake and munched on them as Lacey and Mom discussed their future plans for Belle.
“I can’t believe I have to start considering where to take her to preschool next year,” Lacey said. I glanced at the younger version of all of us. She was growing up fast, and soon enough she’d be a young woman. I remembered being her age, back when I had a better outlook on children and families. I had wanted to grow up and marry a rich prince and live in his huge castle and have lots of children so I could have a big playground on the castle grounds. I’d even dreamt of a moat, only I’d wanted to make it into a giant ball pit. Looking back, I was an unusual child.
I watched as Belle tried to sit taller so her elbows reached the table, and she could almost do it. She gave up and took to her knees, leaning over her milkshake where she dipped a fry to the bottom. “She’s getting so big,” I said.
“Forget about Belle’s future; what about yours?” Mom asked me. “What are your plans now?”
Lacey sat her burger on her tray and looked at me. I wond
ered if she was losing her appetite. Mom had a way with that too.
“I don’t know.” I shrugged. “Does it matter? Whatever’s going to happen is going to happen regardless of whether it’s planned or not. You know I like to experience life without fussing over unnecessary things. There’s no point in thinking about the future.”
Mom scoffed. “Whatever’s going happen is going to happen? Really? Que será, será? I don’t know what kind of fantasy world you’re living in, sweetheart, but take it from me, that Doris Day was full of crap.” Mother sipped her drink and Belle giggled.
“Everly, why don’t you live with us for a bit?” Lacey offered as she finished a bite. I stole a fry from Belle’s plate, who frowned. “I have a friend who could get you a job at one of the restaurants near the pier.”
“Oh, the one with the fish tacos?” I asked. “I love their fish tacos. They’re some of the best around.”
“Yeah, Pier’s Fishes. It’s a beginner’s job, but at least it’s something. And Belle and I would love the extra company.” Lacey added, and I felt a stab of pity. Lacey’s bastard ex-husband, Frank, left both her and Belle completely alone two and a half years ago.
I considered the offer for a moment longer than I’d like to admit. It wasn’t that I didn’t love them both, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to impose on them. Lacey had already done so much to help me over the years.
“Thanks, but I can probably find a cheap apartment. I’m not the greatest roommate, and it’s been 12 years since we’ve shared a house together. I don’t want to depend on you for more than I already have,” I said.
Mom paid the check and regarded me with a scowl. “You’re going to rent an apartment?” She shook her head. “No, you’re moving in with me until you find a job that can pay off both of your degrees and we’ll figure out where to go from there. You need to start planning and preparing for the real world, Everly. This sort of attitude is exactly why there are homeless people living across the street from this very diner. Do you want to be homeless?”
My mother’s rant made up my mind, as it usually did. Having lived in the dorms for the last few years, I was used to roommates, and my sister and her kiddo would be a welcome distraction from life.
I looked back at Lacey and Belle. “Do you still need a third roommate?”
Belle clapped her hands and cheered, then knocked over her milkshake. The lost fry floated through the creamy mess and found its way to my blouse.
What the hell had I signed up for?
Chapter Three
Maddox
Nick met me in between our houses, in a garden pathway that connected our spacious backyards. His tan skin was covered in fresh paint, and as he slipped on his sunglasses, he transferred some of that paint onto the lenses.
“Shit.” He cursed and wiped them off on the only white part of his shirt. “I have to stop doing that.”
“Why? You’re turning 500 dollar glasses into a work of art,” I said. Nick looked at his glasses in consideration.
“I could probably sell this for another two or three hundred on top of that,” he mentioned. “Good business idea.” I nodded.
“Seven days left,” I said with a sigh. “Alaskan Way is opening in seven days, and I still don’t have my entire team assembled.”
“Screw that,” Nick said. “Probably doesn’t help that Chelsea might try and force you into that kid’s life. Can you imagine? You? A dad?” I didn’t tell him that I’d been doing my best not imagining that.
“I gave her two million in alimony just to keep both her and that baby away from me. I haven’t heard from her since, but damn, it’s still worrying me. I can’t sleep, I’m barely eating. Jackie knows something’s wrong, but I haven’t told her. Damn it, Nick. How did this happen? I’ve never even wanted kids; I was always careful.”
“Let’s just get some lunch, get your mind off of it.” Nick offered. “You’re buying.”
We took my newest car, a blue Ferrari with a gray stripe and soft leather seats, and the wind in our faces and power beneath my hand as I switched gears made me feel better. Lunch was Italian, and the chef personally catered to our table; a big guy, Romano, who taught me when I was younger how to make pasta from scratch. I savored the meaty sauce of the spaghetti and popped meatball after meatball into my mouth as Nick took giant bites of strangozzi al tradeoff nero. His dish looked so good that I ordered a plate of it, and ate that as well.
We emptied a bottle of wine throughout lunch, and Nick looked appreciative as another bottle was brought to us.
“One day you’re going to own the restaurant world. You know that?” Nick said.
“With the way things have been going, I have to admit that you just might be right.” I smiled. “I just need the right people in the right places, and boom! Things will grow almost like a compounding interest scenario. Just have to grind.”
“Are you ever going to branch to overseas?” he asked, and I considered it.
“In a few years, yeah. Nothing’s tying me down here, so I might as well reach for global domination,” I said, and Nick cheered to that. Dessert was brought to us, two cannolis with a generous amount of chocolate shavings sprinkled on top of oozing cream. They were crunchy and light and fresh, and I personally thanked Romano as he checked in on us.
“I think this new painting is really starting to get the right attention,” he said, with a light in his eye. “It’s already creating some buzz around the community. There’s a rumor of an offer, and it’s only a rumor, but if it’s true, it might be enough to start paying you back for everything you’ve done. Not a year too soon.”
I waved him off. “Don’t worry about it, Nick. Just focus on your art.”
“I’m serious.” He held up a hand as our server poured our wine into two half-empty glasses. “You bought me my house, helped me more than anyone ever has in my life. I’m going to pay you back one day.”
I held the wine up to my mouth.
“I just need to know that you’re okay,” I said. “Just be happy working on your passion, and that’s enough.”
I knew it was difficult for Nick to take anything freely given to him. In his house growing up, a shitty one-story loft with four siblings, an absent father, and an abusive mother, gifts and presents were always with strings attached. And even those were rare. Nick’s never had anyone in his life, except me.
“Thanks, man,” Nick said and finished his drink. “Still, I’ll make it up to you.”
The check never arrived; instead, Romano came personally to say it was taken care of, from one chef to another, and I left a ridiculous tip that would have covered the check plus double. Nick thanked me for lunch, and I kindly reminded him that it was his idea in the first place.
“What can I say? I have great ideas.”
I dropped Nick off at his house and pulled into my front driveway, in front of the fountain, as I only had maybe 10 minutes to change clothes and head back to work. My phone chimed like crazy as I parked, and I unlocked it to find a million texts from Jackie confirming and reconfirming and then changing and then reconfirming the change and asking for a confirmation on the opening night’s menu. I sent her a quick reply saying I’m on my way back, and that I didn’t bother reading a single thing she sent.
I stayed focused on my phone as I walked up the steps to my front door, and almost tripped over a young girl, probably no more than 12, holding a good-sized baby wrapped in a pink blanket.
“Um, can I help you?” I gave her an odd look and stepped back, slipping my phone into my pocket. “This is private property.”
“Here, Mister.” She lifted a note that I took from her before she stood up. “Some lady paid me 20 bucks to wait on you. Took you long enough.”
“What?” I glanced down at the note.
I can’t do this.
She’s your problem now.
I just can’t do this; I never wanted a baby. I don’t want her.
-Chelsea
My stomach turned to stone a
nd plummeted to my feet as bile hit the back of my throat. I wasn’t sure what to say, but it didn’t matter. I couldn’t get my tongue to work anyway.
“Well, here. This is yours.” She handed me the baby and jogged down the street as I turned to watch her go.
What the fuck just happened?
I moved the baby back as she wiggled in my arms. The smile on her little face should have filled me with joy, but terror was all I experienced at the moment. She was beautiful though, breathtaking. She had a head full of blonde curls, and stunning blue eyes. It was the same baby from the photographs. My baby. Abby.
Chapter Four
Everly
It didn’t take long for my nightmare to come true. I stuffed a pillow over my head as tiny hands grabbed at my sheets and pulled them off. I groaned and flipped onto my stomach. That was my first mistake.
“Auntie!” Belle yelled as she climbed onto the bed and jumped on the very tiny space around me. Her knee landed on my ass, and she fell onto my back, but that didn’t stop her from picking herself back up and jumping toward my head. “Auntie! You’ve been sleeping forever!”
“No, I haven’t,” I moaned. There was no sleeping forever while living with the most annoying 3-year-old in the world. I’d asked her and her mother a million times not to barge in on me, but neither listened.
“But Mommy says you have,” she said, and I pushed her off of me, her small frame splaying across the bed as she giggled. I yawned big and slid out of bed.
“Oh, she did?” I pursed my lips, not entirely surprised. Lacey was always the judgmental sister. Belle began to climb off the bed, but I wrapped my blanket around her and rolled her up like a burrito. “Have fun getting out of that.” I joked and left my room as she giggled behind me. Hopefully that would buy some time before she came back for me.
