Finding Fate

by Charisse Spiers

  I take a deep breath. “You’re always right.”

  “I’m rarely right, but I am right about this.”

  Something occurs to me, making my heart race. “What if he doesn’t want to come with us? I don’t know that I can leave him a second time, even if he wanted to stay.”

  “I don’t know, baby. I think for a lot of it we’re just going to have to trust God. He’s steered us this far. I’ll believe ‘til the day I die that you walking in the multipurpose building that day we were practicing was because of him. Had you not met Konnor, the rest would have likely never fallen into place.”

  “You’ll always be my voice of reason.”

  “And you’ll always be the love of my life.”

  I lean forward and place my forehead against his. “I could live in a shoebox with you and still be the happiest girl in the world. My heart is so full.”

  He smiles at me, making my heart flutter. “I’ll kill myself working before I ever put you in a box.”

  “I love you, even when you’re being ridiculous.”

  He laughs. “I love you too. Can we go get our son now?”

  Hearing that phrase come out of his mouth makes me weak in the knees. “Yeah, baby, let’s go get our son.”

  Fifty

  Konnor

  I walk out of the kitchen after shoving the last bite of my cream cheese bagel in my mouth to Presley standing in front of the Christmas tree in her pajamas, looking at the ‘parents to be’ ornament she bought to hang with the year. Sayler got a couple one where the blonde girl is expecting. I was about to go work on a song with Riggan in the basement for a couple of hours. When I got up, she was sleeping. It’s still pretty early. She’s never been a late sleeper, though, even pregnant and tired.

  Swallowing my mouthful, I brush the crumbs off my hands and come up behind her, running my hands underneath her thin tank top and placing them on the small bump that hasn’t been there long. It’s like the little hard knot appeared overnight. One day it was flat and the next it was there. It has a ways to go to match Sayler’s, but it’s noticeable. It’s hard to believe we have a baby in there. “You still think it’s a boy?”

  “Yeah. Every time I go into the baby section of a store, I’m pulled toward boy stuff. Boy names keep sticking out in my mind. I don’t know, it’s just a feeling I have. I was craving margarita salt the other day while Sayler wants to eat all the sweets. Me and her have done a bunch of those little gender test things we’ve found online for fun and all of mine have said boy.”

  “We find out this month, right? Or did you decide to be surprised?”

  “I want to find out. I don’t think I’d make it the whole pregnancy wondering.”

  I kiss her neck and inch my hand down lower, my finger slipping under the waistband of her silk, red pajama pants. My dick is already pressing into her backside, but she doesn’t budge or seem the least bit turned on, like her head is way out in left field, which is unusual for Presley. She’s always ready to go, and if I don’t want it at least three times a week she thinks it’s her, which is ridiculous.

  I straighten and turn her around. The Christmas lights are reflecting off her shiny, brown hair. She looks . . . off. “What’s wrong?”

  “Right before they left for the airport last night Maddox asked if they could stay here with Madden while they find a place. Then said if it’s too much they could get a hotel with no hard feelings.”

  I blink, obviously missing whatever is bugging her. “Okay. Do you not want Madden to be here at all? Is it too much pregnant? I know nothing about little kids.”

  Her eyes water up. “This is their home. Why would he ask me that if he felt like this was their home? Their son is always welcome here. It’s his home too. I don’t want them to leave.”

  Oh.

  “Pres, I don’t think it’s anything personal. I’m sure they just need more than a single bedroom for a family of three, soon to be four.”

  “There has to be an option for them to stay. The add-on for the baby’s nursery will be done in a couple of months. Could we swing another on short notice? I could call the architect to see if there are options.”

  I grab her face and pull her in for a kiss. “Baby, you do know all your little love birds will fly the coop at some point, right? Our families will grow and they will want their own space. Are you afraid to be alone with me?”

  She rolls her crying eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous, Konnor. I’ve imagined us living together while playing house since I was a little kid, but we’re young. We have plenty of time for it to just be us like when we’re thirty. I love our chaotic, lived-in house with our family. It may not be ideal, but it’s ours. It’s easy. You guys can have your boy time, we can hang out as couples, or we can do our girl thing without the complications of making decisions for where and when and things. We know how to give each other space for relationship growth. And we’re all pregnant. Do you know how rare that is at our age? Our babies will have friends. It’s perfect.”

  I crack a smile. “You really do love this, don’t you?”

  She wraps her arms around my neck, and I finally relax. “I love our crazy life with our friends.”

  I huff out, not upset in the least, despite the way I want it to look. “Fine, I guess we can flip Landon and Maddox. I’ll get a crew in to put up some walls in the basement to make it more like an apartment. A couple of guys were asking for some overtime. It’s already a finished basement with a bathroom, small kitchenette, and wide-open space. It’s temperature controlled and all that. It can’t possibly take that much time to section off two to three rooms.”

  Her mouth curves downward. “I would never make you give up your mancave. We can find another way.”

  “Babe, a mancave is cool and all, but it’s not a requirement. Now that we all have girls, we just play down there. We can take a section of the big-ass garage. It’s not a big deal. Making you happy is more important to me.”

  There’s that smile I’ve always loved.

  “Thank you, but are you sure? No pressure.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, I’m sure. Maybe you can thank me with sixty-nine later. I love how you suck my dick when I shove a finger in your ass.”

  Her cheeks heat. “Don’t you ever tell a soul the classy Presley Dunagin likes anal play.”

  My mouth tips. “Our secret. Go get ready and take Sayler to pick out a twin bed and some boy stuff since you’re so drawn to shopping for boys. It’ll give you some practice while we men drink beer and build shit.”

  With a squeal, she’s kisses me quickly and takes off. “Best husband ever!”

  “You may take that back when I’m fucking you to heavy metal later,” I call back.

  “Consider it done!”

  I shake my head and laugh. No one from Laguna would believe this is what Presley Dunagin has become. I smile. I knew it was there all along. And she’s all mine.

  Fifty-One

  Maddox

  The car pulls up to one of the biggest houses I’ve seen since I got here. With color palettes of bright blues and whites it’s hard not to find it beautiful. So much water. So much depth to the landscape. So much to see. I like that a lot of the houses have an older style versus more modern architecture, even though there is that too. Certain places look like a photo out of a magazine; like a wonder of the world.

  Out of all the wrong I’ve done in my life, God has to be on my side, because the single only reason I had a passport was because of that mission trip my parents encouraged me to go on my first year in the youth group at my church. They said it’d be a once in a lifetime opportunity. I went through all the necessary steps to go out of the country and backed out in the end. I suppose now, it’s never a bad thing to be prepared for everything.

  Gabby’s dad starts talking to the driver in Greek, which is something that never occurred to me since they’ve always spoken English back home. Her grandfather took another car. I’m more scared of him than I’ve ever been of her dad. He makes thin
gs a lot more awkward. I was thankful for the break. He looks at you hard and says very little. He has those same eyes I’ve always found extraordinary in Gabby, only his look lethal, aged, and though they’ve seen a lifetime of battles.

  My nerves are haywire. Thoughts are running away. “Gab, do you think there will be language barriers?”

  She looks at me and then stares at the house. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what they’ve taught him or how they’ve raised him.”

  “He’s bilingual,” her dad says, cutting into our conversation, and then he looks at me. “To some of us, it’s important for a child to understand their heritage. His father is American. He understands English perfectly fine.”

  Side note: look into Greek classes.

  I nod, slightly relieved we don’t have that dilemma right off the bat. I think I’d lose it if he couldn’t understand me. I’m so nervous I could puke, but I’ll have to endure it, because as her dad opens the front passenger door and exits, we follow his lead.

  As we approach the door, Gabby grabs ahold of my hand, lacing the two together. I can finally feel that she’s shaking. Her dad opens the door and calls out something in Greek throughout the house. We come through the doorway and shut the door at the exact moment little feet start running down the stairs. Gabby squeezes my hand and my heart starts pounding in my ears. “Pappoús!” a young voice screams out excitedly.

  I don’t know what I expected him to sound like, but having a Greek accent wasn’t it. I’ve always been a backwoods country boy, and this is putting me out of my element. But I’ve dreamed of this moment so many times since she told me about him, and here we are, about to finally see him.

  Gabby’s dad looks at her. “Take Maddox into the main space. I need a minute with him, okay?”

  She hesitates, but then she pulls me along, leading me through the house until we come into what looks like the main living space filled with seating. I can’t even look around to admire where we are because my stomach is churning, and I feel anxious.

  Gabby sits down, tugging for me to join her, and despite my need to stand, I sit. Muffled voices, one aged, one young, converse in Greek, and I hate that I can’t understand what they’re saying. “What did your dad just say?” I ask her.

  Gabby’s eyes are filled with tears as she stares forward blankly, scaring me. “Remember that day I told you stories about? It’s here,” she whispers, and then looks at me. I’ve only heard her speak in Greek a few times in the past. She thought it was weird that she was bilingual when most of the people at her school weren’t. In her mind different was a bad thing, while I thought it set her apart. She would get embarrassed that I liked hearing it and always played it off that she was rusty, but if she can tell me what he said that easily, she was lying. She’s beautiful, but she’s also smart. I hope he’s more like her. “Do you think he knows about us?”

  The rushing of my blood through my heart is making me feel overwhelmed. “I don’t know. I’d hate your dad a little less if he does.”

  “I mamá kai o bampás mou eínai edó?”

  I watch the tear fall down her face as our little boy speaks back to her dad close enough we can just barely pick up what they’re saying but far enough we can’t see them. “My mom and dad are here?” he asked. “He knows, thank God.”

  “Naí. Échoun megalósei kai érchontai gia na sas pároun.”

  Her bottom lip trembles as she stares at me, more tears coming now. “What?!” I whisper-shout in a panic. “What did he say? I can’t stand this.”

  “Yes. They’ve grown up and come to get you.”

  Before I can even sort out my emotions and the many swarming feelings combatting in my body, Gabby’s dad steps into the room, leading someone else, and when they get a few steps from the couch, he stops and steps to the side, letting us see him. The second I lay my eyes on the six-year-old little boy I break, tears streaming down my face.

  He has Gabby’s dark eyes, but everything else is me. My darker blond hair. Same features. Same skinny build I had as a kid before puberty hit and learning how to work, which made me fill out. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. Every few seconds he glances at Gabby, but his focus remains on me. I can’t catch my breath because it feels like my heart keeps trying to stop but then starts up again.

  I drop to a squat on the floor, bringing my height to closer match his. “Madden, I’m Mad—”

  “I know who you are.”

  “You do?” I almost cry out, finding it difficult to maintain a steady voice.

  “You’re my dad.” Then he looks at Gabby. “And you’re my mom. Both of you are in the picture by my bed. Pappoús gave it to me.”

  My heart sinks as me and Gabby look at each other at the same time. She lightly shrugs, a crying mess, likely thinking the same thing I am. Which photo? “He’s known about you both his entire life. We’ve never babied him,” Gabby’s dad clarifies, looking between us both. “Every visit I tell him stories about his mom . . . and what I know of his dad. He’s always known this is his temporary home. He knows I sent him here after he was born, and that his mother didn’t want him to leave or know he was here. He also knew his mother would tell his father about him when she was ready. I’ll own up to a lot of things, but I’m not a liar. I may have hidden him from you in ways, but I’ve never hidden you from him. If loving my daughter enough to give her a childhood or my grandson enough to give him a fighting chance at a stable upbringing makes me the devil, then I’ll wear the suit.”

  His eyes set on mine. “He’s always been yours. I gave him your last name too. I needed you to prove your commitment to my daughter with nothing in the way. Too many kids come from broken homes. My daughter is one of them. Despite what she may say, she misses her mother. No grandson of mine was going to follow in the same footsteps. If there is one thing I believe in it’s family. I forced you apart because of the age gap. You defied the odds and found a way. You gained my respect when you loved her regardless of the burns on your feet. You earned my trust when you made it forever with a ring. I’ll give her to you because you brought her back to life. Break her or leave them and you’ll be the one wearing a bullet. Are we clear?”

  I direct a smile at the man I’ve hated since I turned eighteen. My birthday was January. I lost everything a month later. We finally agree on something. “I’ll even hand you my gun.”

  He allows only a hint of a smile my way, before withdrawing his hand from Madden’s shoulder. “Go hug your mother, Madden. She’s waited long enough.”

  He takes off running toward her and catapults into her arms. She doesn’t miss a beat either, as if she’s been practicing it for years, hugging his small body against her petite one in a death grip and kissing all over his face. “I love you, baby boy. Mommy has missed you so very much.”

  I have to wipe my eyes when he wraps his tiny arms around her neck and lays his head on her shoulder, just letting her love him. That’s what you do with Gabby’s love. You let it seep all the way to your bones and experience the way it makes you feel better. It changes you, starting at your core. “Do you want to meet your daddy? I’ve waited for this moment for a very long time.”

  Gabby’s dad steps out of the room as I stand, giving us privacy. Instead of taking him from her, I grab her and pull them both in, sandwiching him between us as I wrap my arms around her. For the first time in a long time, I feel complete, and a peace washes over me like I’ve never experienced. “I love you both so much. I’m sorry.”

  He lifts his head and looks at me, before laying his small palm on my wet cheek. I can’t look away. All I’ve seen of him was his newborn photo that Gabby has. I’ve imagined him in my head so many times, but it never quite worked out right. I thought he’d look more like Gabby or me individually, but this is better. He got the one part of her I’ve never been able to get out of my head—her eyes. He looks so much like me, though, that one look at him and you know exactly who he belongs to. “It’s okay, Daddy. You don’t have to be sad an
ymore. I will stay with you and Mommy.”

  Gabby clenches my shirt at my side, sniffling every few seconds. I grab the side of his little head and kiss his temple. I don’t have it in me to be angry anymore. I’ll always wish I could have been there when he was born, to see him grow up to this point, but I’m here now. Things could have turned out so much worse. Strangers don’t have my son. I have him. I’m going to celebrate that. I’ve spent too many years filled with hatred. Bitterness has been my poison for as long as I’ve been an adult. I’m ready to shelve that book and start anew.

  Even if nothing comes of the band, I’m okay with that. I’m ready to build a life with my girl and my kids, because I’ve learned the people important to us are what matter the most. I could have been standing here hugging him for the first time as an eighteen-year-old instead of a six-year-old. I could have had to bury my girl like Riggan did Abby. But instead, I’m getting them both back with a bonus next summer. That’s enough of a blessing to let the bullshit go.

  “I’d like that, buddy,” I tell him. “You and Mommy make me happy.”

  “Daddy.” His dark eyes bore into mine like he’s thinking. “Pappoús said he’s Mommy’s daddy. Do you have a daddy too?”

  And if my heart wasn’t already broken in two, it just split for sure. My parents are going to be heartbroken, and even though they’re conservative people, it’s not likely going to be because I have a son out of wedlock, but more because they’re going to meet their first grandchild at their door instead of in a hospital room like they will their second when it’s born. “I do, buddy. I have a mommy and a daddy, and a brother too. They’ll all be excited to meet you.”

  “So I have another Pappoús and Giagiá?” he asks, his brain turning with information, and it’s getting harder to control my emotions.