by S. A. Wolfe
“It’s exciting.” I try to sound enthusiastic, but in truth, I feel like I’m losing my already precarious footing in Peyton’s world.
“I think Harmony chose the restaurant because it’s a neutral location—not her home, not my home. But I would like you to be there. They’re coming by at ten this morning. The staff won’t be in yet, but I told them we could have breakfast.”
“You want me to cook breakfast for all of you?” I perk up, considering I may have a role here—to help Peyton.
“No, I don’t want you to cook. I’ll make some eggs and toast or something. I want you to meet Finn. And Harmony.”
“Oh. Good. Yes,” I say.
“Bash will be there, setting up the kitchen. I haven’t told him yet. And I’m going to call Greer and ask her to be there, too.”
“This is good.”
He doesn’t notice how deflated I sound. I got my hopes up, thinking I’m special to Peyton and he wants me to meet his son. It turns out I only made the short list of friends and family to be present on this special occasion.
“My family is so big that I think I’ll have to introduce Finn to everyone else at a later date. I mean, I haven’t even met him yet. What if he can’t stand me?”
“You’re crazy,” I say with a laugh. “You’re a dream father. You’re energetic, and smart, and fun, but more importantly, you’re good at taking care of people. He might be intimidated by you at first, but he’s going to see you for who you truly are, and he’s going to fall in love with you.”
Peyton is about to say something but then closes his mouth and stares at me. I feel a blush warm my face. Before I accidentally reveal more of my affection for him, I throw back the covers and jump out of bed. “Let’s get ready for your big day!”
“It’s four. Middle of the night for us. What are you doing?” Peyton asks as I rummage in the dark for my clothes. “Talia, get back in this bed.”
“I should really go home, get some rest, get cleaned up for this big event …” I ramble it off like a grocery list.
“Hey.” Peyton’s voice is low and soothing again. He’s out of bed and wrapping his naked body around me from behind. “I don’t want you to leave. I just told you the biggest news of my life. I want you to stay here with me tonight. In the morning, you can drive back to your place and change clothes if you want, and then we can meet at Swill before Finn arrives.”
I turn around in his arms and rest my hands on his narrow waist. His cock is hard and pressing against my belly, so it’s fair to say this news hasn’t dampened the mood or lowered his libido.
“Think about it. Does Harmony really need to meet me today? You’re going to introduce me to them as your friend? Your buddy? I’m your best buddy like Bash?”
“No, you’re not like Bash. Harmony knows Bash from high school, and she knows Greer, even though my sister graduated a few years ahead.”
“Right, it’s a reunion for all of you. So if I’m not there as the cook, how are you going to introduce me? Harmony does not want to be introduced to the woman you’re sleeping with, and she definitely doesn’t want her son to meet the woman you’re sleeping with. You haven’t thought it through. This is not how you want to start off your relationship with your son. I’ll stay home and meet him later like everyone else.”
“You’re not exactly like everyone else.” He sweeps his hand down my naked back, and his erection twitches against my belly. “Fine. You can be the cook. Pretend you’re there to check on your supplies or orders for the week—whatever. It’s natural that both you and Bash are in the kitchen, and then I’ll ask you to come out and meet Finn. And Harmony.”
“This is about you and Finn. Don’t complicate it by having me there.”
“I want you there,” he says in a gritty, demanding tone.
“Why?”
“Because I’m nervous. I’m nervous to meet my own kid, and it would help me to have you there.”
I hug him and kiss his chest. “If you think it will help you, I’ll be there. Thank you for asking me.”
He nuzzles my head, then pats my ass. “Get back in the bed. I’m going to ask you to do something else for me.”
I laugh and push away from him. He blocks my escape and pushes me back onto the bed.
“Oh, really? And what do you want me to do?” I press my foot up against his chest. The light of dawn is streaming through the windows, so I can see that sinister gleam in his eyes. My pulse races as I anticipate being taken over by him.
He grabs one of my thighs and flings it across my body so I land on my stomach. I’m waiting for that thrilling sensation of having a man’s hands all over me. This man’s hands and everything else he will offer.
“On your knees,” he says gruffly. “And hold on to the headboard.”
Peyton
BY THE TIME TALIA arrives at Swill, I’m a wreck. She immediately goes to the kitchen and begins preparing breakfast dishes. I fill Bash in on what’s about to occur and, without a word, other than “man, oh man,” he goes into the kitchen to help Talia.
I pace the restaurant, then walk behind the bar and pour some seltzer, take a few gulps, and then pace some more.
Greer comes storming through the main doors, looking disheveled. “Where is he?” she barks, looking around the empty restaurant.
“He’s not supposed to arrive for another twenty minutes or so. How did you get here so fast? I called you five minutes ago and you were still in bed.” My sister looks like her kids dressed her. She’s clomping across the concrete floor in UGGs and only half her hair made it into the ponytail holder. She looks wild-eyed and exhausted.
“I called the sitter and promised her double the money to come in early.” She stops abruptly and tosses her bag onto the bar. “I got here as fast as I could.”
“You look worse than me. You could have taken your time—”
“I didn’t want to miss him! My God, Peyton, this is huge!” My sister is practically hysterical.
“Do you think you can calm down before Harmony and Finn get here?”
“I’m that bad?” She looks down at her clothes, then tucks her shirt into her jeans.
“Are you wearing your nightgown?”
She hesitates, then nods. “I’m going to go see what clothes I have in my locker in back. And maybe wash my face.”
“You do that.” I rub her back. “Take your time.”
A few minutes later, when I see Harmony’s car through the front windows, I take a deep breath and walk to the entrance. I pull open the large doors and stand there, dumbstruck, watching Harmony and … my son get out of the car.
As he walks toward me, with Harmony following, I take in his skinny limbs, his shoulder-length hair that is straight like mine, and his dark complexion from his mother. He’s a blend of his Scottish and African American ancestry. I’m awestruck, stunned that this small person is somehow a part of me.
With his big brown eyes, he looks up at me with an innocent curiosity. I don’t see resentment swimming behind his dark pupils. If anything, he seems delighted.
“I’m Peyton.” I smile and step forward to shake his hand. I want to grab him and pull him in for a big bear hug, but I don’t think I’ve earned that right yet.
“Yeah, I figured.” He laughs. “I’m Finn.”
We shake, and I squeeze his hand extra hard. I don’t know what I should do in this situation.
Harmony and I exchange a polite embrace while Finn watches us.
“Come in,” I say. “We can eat and get to know each other.” I smile again, and it’s somewhat painful, a frozen smile on the verge of tears.
I’m not a person who cries, not even at funerals, but this person standing before me is my child, and it’s like seeing a new kind of wonderful beauty for the very first time. I wish my mother were here to see this, to meet him, to see me as I am now.
Logistics aside, Harmony and I have created a human being, and it’s all because I was a reckless teenager who couldn’t use a condom properly. I want to
laugh at my stupid, good fortune. As a teenager, this scenario scared the shit out of me. As an adult, it seems Finn is the product of dumb luck, and I can’t complain about winning the lottery.
Finn is wearing a Knicks T-shirt, jeans, and weathered Converse high-tops. He walks with an easy gait, and it’s like watching myself from my father’s old videos of us.
I notice Finn size me up, too, notating any physical attributes we may share.
We sit at a table in the deserted restaurant, and Talia and Bash approach us with pitchers of orange juice and water. I fumble with the glasses, and Talia takes them from me, pouring the pitchers around the table.
“Talia and Bash are both chefs,” I announce without going into the specifics of Talia’s business and her use of our kitchen.
Harmony is gracious and nods approvingly, as though I’m presenting exciting information. Finn listens but continues drinking his orange juice.
“It’s good to see you, Bash,” Harmony says. “It’s been a long time.”
“I didn’t think you’d remember me.”
“You look exactly the same. I’m not surprised you went into business with Peyton. You two were inseparable.”
Talia silently sets the table with cloth napkins and silverware, while Bash fills Harmony in about the evolution of our business partnership. I notice Talia sneak a long look at Finn, and I really want to know what she’s thinking at that moment. Then she retreats to the kitchen, and Bash soon follows.
“So, this is what I do,” I tell Finn. “It doesn’t look like much when it’s empty, but it gets very busy at night. And we have a nice bar and grill in our old Brooklyn neighborhood where your mom and I grew up, and I also have a showy restaurant in Manhattan.”
This is boring stuff to a nine-year-old, but Finn humors me with a “cool.”
“Hey, Finn,” my sister says as she sneaks her way into the dining hall. She’s changed into clean work clothes and fixed her hair, but she walks toward us like she’s tiptoeing on nails. “I’m Greer.”
“My sister,” I explain.
“My aunt,” Finn clarifies. “Mom made a family tree for me.”
Greer approaches and stares at him with a smile that’s a cross between a scary grin and someone holding their mouth open for a dental procedure.
“Greer,” I prompt. She’s going to creep the kid out.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t stop staring. You have Peyton’s face …” She starts to get emotional. I put my hand on her arm to calm her. God, I hope she doesn’t start crying.
“We’re just getting to know each other right now.” I want my sister to take the hint that I need this time alone with Finn and Harmony.
“Of course! I’m going to go back to the office and get some work done. Leave you all alone to discuss …” Greer’s nervousness is making me anxious again.
“It’s nice to see you again, Greer,” Harmony says.
“Oh, you, too, Harmony. I didn’t get a chance to talk with you yesterday. You look great, and this … bringing Finn here … it’s so exciting.”
Harmony’s smallest of smiles is unreadable. She’s probably dreading all the questions that will come from my family. I’ll have to make sure to head them off so Harmony doesn’t feel like she’s being interrogated.
“Our family is going to be so thrilled to meet you,” Greer says to Finn.
“Come back out before we leave,” Harmony tells her. “We can make some arrangements so Finn can meet the relatives.”
“Yes! I’m going to be right down the hall.” She points and begins to slowly walk toward the kitchen. I can tell it’s killing her not to be able to sit down with us.
“So, how do you like your new home and school? Are you settling in and making friends?” I ask.
“It’s okay. I miss my friends in Seattle, but there’s one kid I’m friends with at my new school. Albert. He’s pretty cool. For a geek, that is.”
“Albert? There’s a name you don’t hear anymore.”
“He’s smart, and we’re in math club together.”
“Math club?”
“Finn is very bright,” Harmony says.
“I do well in every subject,” Finn adds.
“He’s a straight A student.” Harmony beams proudly at Finn. “His favorite subjects are math and science.”
“Wow, good for you. I was lousy in math and science. You got the smarts from your mom.”
Finn grins. It’s my face grinning back at me. The kid got the killer MacKenzie smile, the one that wins people over. I’m so relieved he got his mother’s brain power.
“I think you two should spend some time alone to get to know one another,” Harmony says suddenly, then stands up.
“Fine with me.” Finn doesn’t seem surprised, so they must have planned this.
I open my mouth to protest that maybe we shouldn’t be left alone because I don’t know how to entertain this kid. I don’t know how I’m supposed to behave with my own son.
Harmony points over her shoulder. “I brought my workout clothes and thought I’d head over to that yoga studio down the street. And then I thought I’d grab a bite at the diner. This way you guys can have an uninterrupted hour or so together without me acting as a translator.”
“Sounds good, Mom.” Finn reaches for his orange juice and downs it in one gulp.
Harmony’s expression softens, and behind Finn’s back she mouths the words, “You’ll be fine.”
As Harmony leaves, Talia returns with one of the large trays propped above her shoulder. She swings it down to reveal a smorgasbord of food that any growing teenage boy would love.
“We made a little of everything, but don’t feel you have to eat it all. These are crème brûlée waffles,” she says, putting the first plate in the middle of the table. “These are breakfast burritos. They have scrambled eggs and a spicy potato hash inside. Bash says that he and Peyton lived on these when they were growing up.”
“Wow.” Finn looks at me, smiling and wide-eyed.
“Sticky buns,” Talia continues. “Because it’s my mother’s recipe, and Bash insists everyone loves these gooey things. And these are mini spinach quiches, because you need something green.” Talia finishes putting more plates down until Finn and I have more than half a dozen, very rich dishes taking up most of the table.
“This is awesome,” he says.
“Yeah, knock yourself out,” I say.
Talia puts the large tray under her arm and turns to leave.
“Hey, Talia. Thank you.”
“I hope you enjoy it, Finn,” she says, glancing at me briefly, then turning all her attention on the boy who is eating a waffle with his hands.
“Really good,” he says between bites.
“Shout if you need anything,” she says, then leaves.
“Do you eat like this all the time?” he asks.
“No. Talia doesn’t actually work for me. She’s a private chef for a bunch of rich people in the area. She’s using our kitchen because hers was destroyed in a fire. Bash is the chef here, and he’s really good, too. He keeps me fed most of the time. Try the grilled sausages.” I pass him the plate.
“So, you’ve got it made.” He bites into a sausage, holding it with his fingers again. Another male MacKenzie trait. “You’re a big-shot restaurant owner, and you’re rich.”
“Wait. Is that what your mother said?”
“She said you have three restaurants and that you’re doing well.”
“That’s true, but I’m not rich. I share ownership with other investors. I’m certainly paid well to run all three, but I’m not in Bill Gates’s income bracket. I’m not even close.”
Finn shrugs and continues eating. “But you are the boss, and you get to eat this whenever you want.”
I remember being this kid, caring only about doing my own thing, being my own boss someday, and of course, food. Boys are always hungry.
“I guess so. There’s more to my job than that. I have to research an idea and a locati
on before we can open a restaurant. It’s about building an environment and a menu that people will want … We can talk about that another time.” I sense he’s too young to care about market niche and food trends. “So, you’re nine. What are nine-year-olds into these days?”
“I’m almost ten. I’m nine years, six months, and two days.”
“Ah, yes, well, we refer to that as nine. Enjoy it while you have it. Don’t be in a rush to grow up.”
Jesus Christ, I sound like my father.
“So, what do you do for fun?” I ask, now sounding like my deceased grandfather.
“I create computer games. I’m good at coding, and my new school is letting me teach a coding class in the afternoons.”
“You’re kidding? You’re teaching?” I’m astonished he’s so advanced, but secretly proud he’s an excellent student like Harmony.
“Yeah. The school wanted to call it Coding for Fun, but that’s lame, so I told them to call it Gaming for Hotshots because then kids would show up thinking they’re going to play games for two hours. They do play, but first I teach them how to write code, and they have to create their own games before they can play. I kind of tricked them into learning how to code, but it worked. The class is full. The teacher assists me, but I run the class. I’m like the boss.”
“Brilliant. So you’re a genius like your mom.”
He shrugs and keeps chowing, having moved on to the breakfast burritos. “I’m also pretty good on the skateboard. I like basketball, but I never get chosen in pickup games. I’m not very good.”
“I am.” I brighten up. Finally, something I can show off. “I played in high school. I can teach you a few things. I mean, if that’s something you’d like to do with me. My brother works across the street at the furniture company, and they have a hoop set up in back. There’s no regulation court, but we could practice shooting a few hoops there.”
Finn’s head perks up. “I’d like that. Can you make me taller, too?” He laughs, not at all nervous about meeting me, it seems.
“Don’t worry; you’re going to have a growth spurt. Your mother is tall, and I’m tall enough.”
“Six seven?” He pauses eating and looks up at me with those big brown eyes.