Finding Fate

by Charisse Spiers

  The timer on the oven starts beeping. Being in his house gives me a sense of déjà vu. “That’s the ham,” Maddox’s mom calls out. “Can you get it out? I’m finishing Maddox’s cheesecake.”

  I grab the back of his shirt and hide behind him as we near the kitchen entrance. I’m such a coward. I’ll own it. I’ve always wanted his mom to like me. “Did you say cheesecake?” Maddox asks excitedly when he stops. It’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. I need to learn how to make cheesecake. “Is that strawberry topping in your hand?”

  “Hey, sweetie,” she responds sweetly, and I can’t help but wonder what that’s like. I haven’t seen my mom since I was little. “I hope you’re hungry. We have a lot of food that doesn’t need to sit in my refrigerator. Where is Gabby?”

  Before I can keep track of his movements, Maddox jerks away, making me feel exposed. I peek through one eye to his smile now facing me, forcing me to open my eyes all the way. “Hello,” I say awkwardly to everyone in the now silent room. Last time I met them it wasn’t on the best of terms, so I don’t know whether to formally introduce myself as a means to start fresh or just pretend I’ve been here all along.

  Maddox’s dad has a pair of reading glasses sitting at the halfway point on the bridge of his nose and a clean carving knife in his hand as he stands over a ham where he placed it on the stovetop, but he’s looking my way. He’s on the stockier side, but clearly, he’s active, because he isn’t necessarily overweight. If he has grays you can’t see them because his hair is the same darker blond that both of his sons have, but they inherited the coarser texture from their mom, whose hair is more in the golden hues of blonde in comparison to their darker, but much thicker than their dad’s fine.

  The room is so quiet. Everyone is standing frozen, all eyes on me. I’m petrified, standing here with my hands pressed together as I play with the end of my sleeves. “Mom, Dad, you remember Gabby—now my fiancé, and of age.” I could kill him for cracking that joke. It’s hardly funny. He smiles at me and then points at his dad. “Gabby, this is my dad, Roy.” He moves his finger to his mom, and I lock eyes with her for the first time. “This is my mom, Sandra, but everyone calls her Sandy except for my grandpa. Her cheesecakes are magical. They make you fat.”

  I accidentally laugh out loud at his joke, and the second it’s out, his mom smiles at me. “The only thing that’s magical is how fast it disappears when he’s around.”

  “That sounds more logical,” I tease. “We went out to eat a while back and he ordered dessert for us to share. I should have known better. It was more like a ninety-ten split. Ironically, it was cheesecake.”

  “Hey,” he laughs. “You said you were nauseous! I took one for the team. It is unacceptable to waste something so tasty.”

  “How are you feeling, Gabby? Hungry, I hope.”

  Nauseous. Dammit, Maddox! Just when things were smooth sailing. I tense, knowing she’s referring to the pregnancy that Maddox accidentally spilled the beans about over the phone. It’s not even something I want to talk about. I know he comes from good people. I know what their beliefs are. We aren’t married. Lord, we’ve only been back together since October, so an accident really isn’t even a good excuse. New couples are more careful than long-term couples. It’s December. It looks bad. I know it does. And I won’t lie and say I’m not a little embarrassed. As a matter of fact, all the years of my buried embarrassment in front of them comes crashing down on me to the point I can’t catch my breath. “It was an accident,” I cry out. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Gabby?” Maddox. He sounds worried. But I’m already gone. My anxiety is coating every facet of my mind. I want his parents to think I’m good enough for him. I want them to be proud of who he chose. I don’t want them to be ashamed because of things that happened when we were younger. I’ve never cared about what anyone else thinks, but I do them, and I’m only humiliating myself more by crying, but I can’t help it. I cover my face with my hands to salvage some of my dignity.

  Petite hands touch me, and a wave of floral awakens my senses as I breathe in the feminine perfume. “Honey, are you okay? Why are you sorry?”

  She lovingly rubs her hands down my arms. “We aren’t married. I know you’re against that. I want you to like me. I feel like I owe you so many apologies for the things that happened back then with my dad. I love your son. I always have.”

  She laughs, slowing my tears. I wasn’t expecting laughter. “Stop that. We aren’t holding you accountable for things that happened a long time ago. You were a child. My kids are grown now. He’s about to be twenty-five. What they do isn’t on me anymore, it’s on them. We’re all going to be accountable for our own actions. I did my part. I raised him right. I got him out of high school.”

  Madden’s laughter echoes through the house, and I immediately see the change on her face to one of confusion. “Actually, you didn’t,” I answer, just as Micah chases him into the kitchen.

  “Daddy, hide me.” Madden hides behind Maddox’s legs like they’re playing chase.

  Micah stops just inside the door. “Too soon?”

  “Daddy?” she whispers, her eyes on mine and already blurring.

  I plead with Maddox silently for help. “Um, I—”

  “Mom.” She turns around at the sound of his voice like it’s a reflex, her head turning downcast as if she’s following Maddox’s arm around Madden, who is still halfway behind Maddox and using his body as a shield. He’s quiet now, only half of his face peeking out from behind Maddox’s leg, as if he’s picked up the sudden change in the room. Dad said he’s very perceptive and responds best to being open instead of babying him. Coddling is something my grandfather doesn’t believe in, especially with boys.

  The very beginning was a little rough, with many awkward moments, but the more we interacted with Madden like we’ve known him his whole life the more comfortable he became. Luckily, he seems to never meet a stranger, because I was afraid he’d want to go back. Dad has helped a lot since Madden was already comfortable with him. The real test will come when we go back to Miami and he’s not around. Micah was much better about playing the part like Maddox and I have. “Remember that thing I didn’t want to discuss over the phone? This is Madden, our son,” Maddox continues.

  “Oh, my heavens,” she cries.

  I notice his dad setting the knife down on the stove from the corner of my eye. I pass her to join them, needing the comfort of Maddox by my side. As I get to Madden peeking up at me like a skittish cat, I squat. “Hey, sweet boy, you remember how Daddy said Greece was far away?” He nods. “And how Pappoús said Mommy didn’t know you were there?” Again, he nods. “Did Pappoús tell you why he sent you to live with Pappoúli and Ya-Ya?”

  Madden glances over toward Maddox’s mom, and then to his dad, before his eyes settle back on mine—the perfect match. He’s still working through transitioning to primarily speaking in English. Greek culture encourages the Greek language, even to those that immigrate to another country, which is why my father and I both speak Greek fluently even though we only use it around each other or family in Greece, but Madden has never lived in the States, so for him it was the opposite. He was taught English like I was taught Greek. He gets confused sometimes like his mind is trying to make the switch, but I think he does damn good for a six-year-old. “He said you were too young to take care of me by yourself, and you were too young to be with my daddy. That Pappoúli and Ya-Ya would take care of me until you grew up.”

  A tear slips down my cheek. He will never understand how much this hurts me to pretend it’s okay. How much losing him hurt me. How much keeping him from Maddox hurt me. That every year he celebrated his special day I grieved.

  If I had gotten my way, I would have kept him and done the best I could. I would have loved him unconditionally because he was ours. I would have come clean to Maddox and his parents despite how bad it is for a fourteen-year-old to be pregnant, because none of it is his fault, or Maddox’s parents’ fault. They shouldn�
�t have to sacrifice knowing each other because things weren’t picture perfect for a society that makes the rules.

  “That’s right. I met your daddy when I was young. We loved each other very much, but Pappoús thought I was too young to be with Daddy then. That I needed to grow up first. Sometimes Moms and Dads do things that we don’t like because they think it’s best. It made us sad to be apart, so Daddy went to live with Uncle Micah.” My heart weeps that sometimes we have to doctor shit to make it presentable to preserve the good in people. “Then you were born, and I had to go back to high school, so Pappoús wanted you to have the best life even though it made Mommy sad for you to leave. When Pappoús said I would tell Daddy about you when I was ready, it’s because I didn’t want to make Daddy sad too, because you’re ours, and we love you a lot. Do you understand?”

  He blinks at me, not rushing to speak, and then finally says, “I understand, Mommy.”

  “Don’t be afraid of new people. Pappoús kept you a secret so I would finish school, and since Daddy didn’t know, his family couldn’t know, but you belong to them just like you belong to Pappoús, Pappoúli, and Ya-Ya. They are your grandparents too, and I’ll just bet that if you talk to them like you do me and Daddy, they’ll love you just as much.”

  He wraps his little arms around my neck, creasing my hair, and hugs me. I circle mine around his waist and pull him tight, my eyes instinctively closing. My heart is so full. “I’m glad you growed up, Mommy.”

  “Me too, baby. I love you so much. Will you go give your grandparents a hug so they can see how big you are?”

  “Okay,” he says, and releases me. I have to force myself to let go when I want to be selfish and just sit here and hold him for an eternity, or at least long enough to make up for every day that’s passed since I held him and had to let him go.

  When he turns to face her, she’s already mirroring my position, her aged face wet. She’s a beautiful lady, and has aged gracefully, with smooth skin from taking care of it but still has a few lines around the eyes and mouth from living and laughing over the years.

  For a second, she just stares at him. We’ve all done it. I’d convinced myself he had gotten my dad and grandfather’s dark hair, but he looks just like his dad, all the way to the shape of his eyes, only a different color. “You’re a handsome boy,” she says. “Your dad’s old swing set is still in the backyard. Do you want to see it while your mom and dad set the table? I forgot that cheesecake has to sit in the refrigerator, so we have some extra time. Me, you, and your grandfather could hang out a little while and you can tell us all about Greece. I’ve never been there. Or he could show you the big log truck down the road at the shop if your mom and dad don’t mind. Your dad used to drive it sometimes.”

  “Cool! I wanna see it.” He turns around, his eyes big and round. His face is already animated. “Can I go with . . .” He stops drastically and spins. “What’s your name again?”

  I want to laugh and cry at the same time. It’s so sad that he has to ask that about his grandparents, but also, you have to love the innocent mind of a child. No filter most of the time. They don’t need it. Everything is good in the world. There is no ugly to a child. And sometimes, I wish we could all view the world that way.

  She smiles at him, but you can see the sadness in her eyes. I hate it. So many people have been hurt over this, but even so, I love Maddox too much to wish I’d never met him. I don’t even know what it was exactly that made him stand out to me. One moment I was there with a friend, enjoying the music, and the next I saw him. In that moment I knew I wanted to know him. And deep down, I think I even knew he was meant to be mine. I haven’t second guessed it since.

  She takes his hands in hers and looks at him. “Well, that depends,” she says. “There are lots of names for grandmas and grandpas. Mine were Nana and Papa. Your grandfather called his Mawmaw and Pawpaw. Your daddy called his grandparents Meme and Pepaw. There are others too, like Gigi and PopPop, Lolly and Pop. You’re a special grandchild. You want to know why?”

  “Why?”

  “Because you’re the first, and that means you get to pick our grandparent names, so, what do you want to call us?”

  “I get to pick?!” he asks excitedly.

  “You sure do.”

  “But what if you don’t like it?”

  “I will love it, because you chose it. It will make it more special.”

  “Okay. I like Gigi and PopPop, because it’s like Pappoús, Pappoúli, and Ya-Ya.”

  A tear slips down her cheek. She lets it go instead of brushing it away. “Gigi is perfect. What do you think, Roy? How do you like PopPop?”

  Everyone’s eyes go to him as he pulls on his last boot and fixes his jeans over it. He walks over to the cabinet and pulls out an insulated mug, already filling it with coffee. “I think you read my mind. That’s the one I was hoping you’d pick. You ready to go to the shop and look at the equipment?”

  He nods excitedly and turns to me with a smile. “Can I go, Mom? With Gigi and PopPop?”

  “I think that’s an awesome idea! Me and Daddy can hang out here.”

  His mom stands and smiles at me as she takes his hand. “We’ll go get your coat,” she says, leading him out of the kitchen. Micah follows them.

  Maddox’s dad screws on the top to his coffee-filled mug and walks toward us, catching me off guard by giving me a sideways hug. “Welcome to the family, sweetheart. I knew it was only a matter of time until he brought you back. He’s always been the most like his grandfather, even when it comes to love. Found it young and never looked back. One of these days, the two of you will have a fiftieth anniversary under your belt too,” he says low into my ear. My lips tremble as I try to hold in the tears. “And leave the past in the past where it belongs. Do you understand? Everything tends to work out exactly like it’s supposed to. We’re not angry. We forgave your dad a long time ago. Parenting has its hiccups like everything else. None of us are perfect.”

  “Yes, sir,” I say, no longer able to hold anything in. I hope that I can be like them. They’ve always been role models.

  “Good. The rest will smooth out with time.” He walks behind me and slaps Maddox on the shoulder, before squeezing the back of his neck and pulling him in. “Son, I shouldn’t have to say this but I’m going to. She needs to have your last name before another baby is born. Don’t wait around to make it right.”

  My cheeks heat with embarrassment when Maddox looks at me with a grin on his face. “Yes, sir.”

  He walks to the kitchen door and pulls on a trucker’s hat, before grabbing a jacket off the hook next to it. “If you get hungry go ahead and eat. I’m not in a rush. I’m going to get to know my grandson.”

  He walks out the door, leaving the two of us alone. I swipe my fingers under my eyes to try and clean up from where I was crying, before turning to face Maddox. “Do I look like crap?”

  He grabs my brown sweater over my belly button and pulls me in, already running his hands underneath it. “When have you ever looked like crap?”

  I smile, knowing that tone as he rubs across my bare skin. One thing I can always bank on to make me feel better is Maddox’s sex drive. “You hated my hair when it was black.”

  He dips his head in the crook of my neck, already kissing and nibbling along my flesh. My breathing escalates as he comes closer to my ear. “I never said I hated it. I just like your natural color better. I met you as a blonde. But if I recall correctly, my dick worked just fine when I fucked you in the ticket booth the first day I saw you. If you looked like crap to me, I wouldn’t have gotten up. You could have pink hair and I’d still find you hot.”

  My heart starts beating faster when his hand dips underneath my bra, kneading my breast that is now sensitive versus when I first found out I was pregnant. “What are you doing?”

  “We have the house to ourselves. Like old times.”

  “So . . . They’ll come back.”

  “Not anytime soon. I know my parents. If they sa
y they’re going to do something, they do it. All those times you stayed the night with me, we never got caught.” His teeth graze over the lobe of my ear and his left hand trails down to my ass, taking a handful. I moan out accidentally. He’s always been able to control me like a puppet.

  “But I want them to like me,” I whine, my hands already circling around his waist like I’m going to cave. It’s pathetic. “I’m not planning on going anywhere. At some point we’re going to get caught.”

  He pulls his hand out of my bra like he’s stopping, staring at me with a look that makes me feel guilty. I’m not sure he’s ever looked at me like that when it comes to sex. Usually I’m the one jumping his bones. “Gab, we haven’t had sex since before we left Miami. We’ve been with your family. I’m not trying to push my luck with that risk. We’re about to have a kid in our bed. It’s going to get harder.”

  I stare at him, loving him so much I can’t even think of saying no. I’d probably have sex with him in the same room as his parents if he asked me like that. As if he can read my mind, he starts smiling again, his hands going for the button on my jeans as he kisses me. The waist gives as they come undone, and then the zipper descends. “I’ll fuck you in my bed.”

  I extend my neck to kiss him again, my tongue skimming his lips. “Yeah? You think you can do it? I mean, you’ve pushed your limits with a little half and half, but you still haven’t fucked me dirty in your bed.”

  He tugs at my bottom lip as he slides his hands down my lower back, dipping them beneath my panties, and then he squeezes my butt. “I’ll do anything for you. After going that long without your body, I want you every damn day if I can get it.”