by McLean, Jay
“I’m sure,” she says, keeping her eyes on mine a breath longer so she can show me how sure she is. “Let’s get you dressed, Benny.” She takes the climbing monkey off my back and leads him toward his room, saying, “We’re going to see all your dad’s family…”
Benny still doesn’t react to this, which, yeah, I’m starting to get a little bummed about.
Mia adds, “Your uncles will be there, maybe even your aunt and your cousin.”
“Princess!”
Benny holds my hand while gripping one of his rocks and minerals books in the other. According to Mia, he refuses to leave the house without a book, which isn’t fun on her back and shoulders, considering she’s the one who has to carry it in her bag. I promised to start buying him lighter, more compact ones.
Looking over at Mia, I ask one more time, “Are you sure?”
She inclines her head toward the door of my childhood home. “Open the door, baby.” Then she squares her shoulders. “I got this.”
“I love you,” I tell her, because I do, and she should know.
She smirks. “I know.”
“Oooh,” Benny squeals. “Mother lo—”
Mia covers his mouth, and I brace myself and open the door.
The twins are half asleep on a couch each, and Lachlan’s curled in a ball on Mom’s old chair. Dad’s sitting in his recliner—in his boxer shorts, a white tee with coffee stains on the front, and a piece of toast halfway to his mouth. “What are you…” He trails off, swiping crumbs off his T-shirt.
“Sunday Family Breakfast,” I mutter, looking around the house. It’s dead quiet. The TV isn’t even on.
The twins look up, shocked when they see us. “We stopped doing it when you...” Lincoln starts, sitting up. He kicks Liam’s arm and shakes Lachlan’s shoulder.
A second later, the scene is a complete contrast to the one we walked in to. Dad’s hugging Mia and Benny, and then Mia goes over to hug the twins, greeting them with what I’m positive is a whispered, “What’s up, you little shits?” Lachlan high-fives her and Benny, and then takes Benny out to the porch to collect his blue bucket. They’re off on an adventure together, while Dad gets dressed, and I ask the twins, “Where is everyone?”
“We stopped Sunday Family Breakfast when you stopped talking to us,” Linc answers.
Liam adds, shrugging, “Yeah. It didn’t seem right.”
Then both of them, at the same time: “If you tell them to come, they will!”
Mia side-eyes me, her hand loose in mine. “How do they do that?” she whispers.
I shake my head, take my phone from my pocket, and answer, “I’ve spent many years trying to figure it out, and it’s futile. We’ll never understand.”
Tapping at my phone, I open the family group chat, ignoring all the unread messages.
Leo: Sunday Family Breakfast, you fuckers. If my girl can be here, you all can too!
Less than a minute later, Dad’s back downstairs, and Logan’s bursting through the door. “Shut. Up!” he shouts, lifting Mia off her feet and spinning her in a circle. She giggles, grasping on to his shoulders.
“Okay,” I say, pulling Logan off of her. “That’s enough of that.” I push Mia behind me, my eyes narrowed, arms crossed as I face my younger brother. “Dibs.”
“How many times do I have to tell you this?” Red says, walking through the door. “You can’t call dibs on people.”
“Babe!” Logan shouts. “Look.” He’s pointing between Mia and me. “The band is back together, bitches!”
“You have a band?” Mia squeals, her eyes so wide it almost kills me to disappoint her.
“No.” I chuckle. “It’s just an expression.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders drop, her gaze lowering. “Wait!” And then she laughs. Like, all out, uncontrollable, eyes watering laughter. And no one has a single clue why. When she’s calmed down enough to actually speak, she notices that we’re all staring at her. “You already have a cop,” she struggles to say. “And a construction worker…”
I have no idea where this is going, and judging by the looks of confusion on my brothers’ faces, they don’t know either.
Mia’s shaking her head as if she cannot understand why we don’t get it.
She adds, “So you just need—”
Dad’s sudden bark of laughter scares us all.
Now they’re both laughing, and what the fuck?
Mia starts moving her arms all over the place. “Why Em See…” she starts to sing. “The Village People?” Her eyes shift from one person to the next, her smile fading. “No. You don’t…”
We’re all shaking our heads.
I say, patting her head, “You’re such an odd, little thing.”
Sighing, she mumbles, “No. I was just born in the wrong generation.”
An hour later, the kitchen table is filled with enough food to feed an army, which is basically what we are. There was no food to cook here, so Lucas and Laney went to the diner and basically ordered five of everything on the breakfast menu. Going by the way Mia’s giggling, I don’t think she’s ever seen the level of food intake she’s witnessing right now. There weren’t enough chairs for everyone to sit, so Lucas, Logan, and the twins opt to stand. Lucy’s here, too, along with Cameron. Benny’s spent most of the time ducking all the food Katie throws at him. Every time Lucy goes to scold her, his little eyebrows furrow at her, then he wipes it clean as he smiles at Katie. “It’s okay, Princess,” he soothes.
“We’re going to need a bigger table,” Dad muses.
“And more room,” Logan says, elbowing Lincoln’s side.
Around a mouthful of eggs, I mumble, “You should just knock down the wall to the formal dining room. No one uses it. When was the last time anyone even went in there?”
Dad nods. “Good plan.”
I continue to stuff my face while Mia talks to Aubrey about girly shit. And then there’s a hammer right beside my head. I almost choke on my food, but I follow the arm holding on to the hammer to see Dad looking down at Benny. “Feel like putting a hole in a wall, Benny?”
Benny’s eyes are huge. “Really?” he asks, jumping out of his chair.
“Sure,” Dad says, and we all go quiet, turn in our seats, and watch them move toward the wall between the kitchen and formal dining room. Under the table, Mia settles her hand on my leg. Or at least I think it’s Mia because it would be really fucking creepy if it were anyone else. I hold her hand in mine, run the pad of my thumb along the inside of her wrist. I keep my eyes on my dad and my son as Mia presses her lips to my jaw. “Right here,” Dad says, and Benny looks up at him.
“Are you my other papa?”
A breath catches in Dad’s throat.
In mine too.
His eyes glaze.
So do mine.
“Yeah, Benny. I am. I’m your papa.”
Benny’s smile warms my everything. “Did you teach Leo to build things?”
Dad glances at me. “I did,” he says to his grandson.
“So you can teach me, too?”
“I would love nothing more in the world, Benny.”
Benny nods, then slams the hammer through the wall. Cheers erupt, and the twins start chanting his name. He basks in the attention, slamming the hammer again and again. It barely makes a dent, but it’s not about the progress.
It’s about knocking down walls, and once it’s gone, we’ll all remember—Benny, my son, was the reason it’s no longer there.
Lachlan and the twins offer to clean up afterward, only because there are far less dishes than usual, and Lucas and Logan approach Benny, who’s showing his cousin a picture from his book. It’s a diamond—their birthstone. “Hey, Benny?” Lucas asks, and Benny looks up at him. “Logan and I would like to show you something. Do you want to see it?”
Benny looks between his cousin and his uncles. “Can Princess come, too?”
“Sure!” Logan says, taking Katie from her high chair. They walk out the back door, and I follow
because, dang it, I am a helicopter parent. Mia stops me on the back deck, holding on to my elbow as Lucas and Logan lead Benny toward a playhouse they must’ve built. It’s all different shades of blue and somewhat lopsided, and above the door is a sign that reads Benny! It’s written in Benny’s handwriting, backward E and all. “How did they…?” I trail off, watching Benny jump and squeal in excitement.
“Oh my god,” Mia whispers, her eyes wide in awe. “Benny drew this. He gave it to Lucas as a gift… and they… they…” When she turns to me, her mouth is open, eyes filled with unshed tears.
I kiss her forehead and bring her close. “Luke’s not great with saying the words, but he sure knows how to show it in other ways.”
“Because he loves hard?” she asks, and I pull back, nodding.
“Yeah.” I swallow my emotions. “He really does, Mia.”
Benny’s running in and out and around the structure, laughing and squealing and gasping at every new thing he discovers. “Mama!” he shouts. “There are shelves for my rocks.”
“They’re curved,” Lucas adds. “So they’re not dangerous!”
I start to go down to inspect it, but Mia stops me. “Let his uncles have this joy,” she says. “They missed out on the first four years of it.”
I don’t know what conversations she had with Luke and Logan, but I know that I’m grateful. I’m grateful to my brothers for manning the fuck up, and I’m so, so thankful to Mia for being open-minded and kind and… everything.
Mia Kovács is everything.
She didn’t have to listen to them, and she sure as hell didn’t have to forgive them. And it’s not just them or anyone else who’s done her wrong her entire life. It’s me, too.
My dad steps beside Mia, looking at the playhouse, at his kids, and his kids’ kids. “They can pull it apart and bring it to your house,” he mutters. “Or you’re welcome to leave it here for when you visit or if Benny ever stays the night or weekends or… you know? I’m here. I can look after him. His uncles, too. There sure are a lot of us who can—”
“Dad,” I cut in, laughing. “We get it.”
“He’s a good boy, Mia.” Dad’s voice cracks. “You did a phenomenal job raising your son.”
Mia stares up at him while he looks out into the yard, her eyes filling with tears again. She spends a few long moments there, her eyes tracking his features, and I wonder what she’s looking for… what she sees. Finally, she says, “You did, too, Mr. Preston. With all your sons.” His gaze drops to her, and he smiles. She returns it. “They really are good at their jobs,” Mia muses. “It seems a waste that—”
“I’ll give them their jobs back,” Dad cuts in with a chuckle.
“You’re a good man, Papa Preston,” she tells him, getting up on her toes and kissing his cheek.
“Where’s Katie?” Lucy asks, coming up beside me like a tiny, stealth ninja.
I motion toward the playhouse. “Playing with Benny.”
“I should probably check on her. She’s going through a phase of licking every surface.” Lucy takes my hand and leads me down the steps. I take Mia’s, and she takes my dad’s. All four of us walk, like a Red Rover line, toward the playhouse.
When we near, Lucas puts a finger to his mouth, telling us to be quiet. And so we do. We creep to the opening and all look inside. Benny’s sitting on the floor with the book on his lap, his arm swung around Katie’s shoulders. She’s slowly nodding off against Benny’s side, as he tells her all about granite.
I turn to Lucy, questioning if she’s thinking what I’m thinking. “Lulee’s Library,” she whispers, holding her hands to her chest. “This is too much.” And then I look at my son, sitting in a playhouse in the yard where I spent so many days and nights creating memories with my family. My hope for his future is that he’ll get a chance to do the same. Right here. Where I got to live out adventures I’d discovered in between pages of numerous books. Where branches were used as swords and bedsheets as capes, and we’d come home when the sun set, cut up and bruised, and when our parents asked what the heck happened, my brothers and I wouldn’t have a clue, because we were too busy having fun. This place is my home. It’s where brotherhoods were formed, and bonds were created. Bonds so strong I thought no one could break them.
Mia could have.
But she didn’t.
Because she knew what this was to me.
This was love.
This was loyalty.
I choke back my fears—fears of concrete jungles and too many people and too many sounds, but then Benny looks up, his eyes holding mine, and all those fears disappear. “Hi, buddy,” I say over the knot in my throat.
Benny smiles. Then: “Hi, Daddy.”
Chapter Ninety-One
Mia
“You ready to go?” Leo asks, slipping his hands around my waist from behind. I’m standing in the backyard of the farmhouse, surrounded by so much beauty, it pains me to have to leave. Tammy had worked so hard on the memorial garden for Papa, and I’d never envisioned it to look like this when it was done. And I sure didn’t expect to have such a visceral response to it, either.
“It’s so…” I whisper, unable to hide my emotions. Not that I would have to.
“It’s everything he was.” He spins me to him but keeps his hold tight. Bright blue eyes level on mine. “He was a great man, Mia, and as cliché as it sounds, he’d be so damn proud of the woman you’ve become. The mother you are, without ever having a mother yourself.”
He’s wrong, though. I had Tammy. And in a few months, she’ll be my mother on paper. No step. Just mom.
“You’re going to miss your flight if we don’t leave soon.” He hesitates to add, “The traffic is horrible at this time.”
Missing my flight wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but he’s right. I take one more look around me, breathing in Papa’s presence, and then I let Leo lead me to the car, where Benny’s already strapped in the backseat. I force a smile as I get in. “Are you ready to go home?” I ask him.
Benny doesn’t respond, too busy rebooting.
“Here,” Leo says, handing me his phone. “You choose the music.”
I go through his playlists as he begins the drive to Charlotte, where Dad and Tammy will be meeting us at the airport. I select one titled Mia, my lips ticking and my eyes closing when “Brown Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison plays through the speakers.
“When do you think you guys can come back? Or I can go up there,” Leo says, and I look over at his profile—the boy, now a man, I’ve been in love with for ten years. He’s changed so much, and yet, he’s still the same boy who held my hand as I cried. Who sat with me, a hundred and thirty feet in the air, and shined a flashlight on curse words I didn’t want to see. Who hummed to music that he’d never heard of, but listened to because he knew it was sentimental to me—because it reminded me of Papa.
The first morning we sat up there, I told him that the sunrise made me feel like the world was being split in two. He said that it reminded him of me. I didn’t know what he meant, not back then and not even now. But right now, I feel it—my world being split in two.
“Mia?”
“I’m not sure,” I finally answer. “I’ll check my schedule. Soon, I hope.”
“You’ll tell me about his appointments, right? I don’t want to miss any.”
“Of course.”
We don’t speak much for the rest of the ride. Van Morrison turns to Otis Redding, then Aretha Franklin, Sam Cooke, and so on. The entire drive, my mind races, my heart dreading getting to the airport. I don’t want to say goodbye to anyone. Unfortunately, I don’t have a pause button or a time machine, and before I know it, Leo’s pulling into a short-term parking spot.
He gets out to unload our luggage from the bed of his truck, and I help Benny out of his seat. It’s a routine all too familiar, and for the first time, I realize how much I hate it.
Benny says he’s too tired to walk, so Leo carries him on his shoulders while still dra
gging our suitcase behind him. I wasn’t the only one who didn’t have a lot to say on the drive, and I wonder what’s going on in Leo’s head. Benny’s, too. Unlike Leo and me, Benny doesn’t hold back. “When am I going to see you again, Daddy?”
It’s not the first time he’s asked Leo this same question on this same walk, but it’s the first time he’s used the word daddy, and it kills me. Ruins me.
We find Dad and Tammy just outside the security gates, the same place they always are when we meet here. But something is different. Something is off, and I don’t know if it’s just me—but Tammy must feel it too. I can sense it the moment she looks at me. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?” she asks, approaching us.
Leo’s attention snaps to me. “Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know.” It takes everything in me not to burst into a sob. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
Tammy eyes all three of us—all at once—and I don’t know how she does that. Then she settles a hand on my forearm and tells Leo, “We’ll be back.”
She leads me to a set of chairs hidden from view of the Kovács/Preston men, and Benny… Benny’s still a Kovács, and he shouldn’t be. He should be a Preston.
“Sit down, honey,” Tammy says. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”
I stare at her, at the face of a woman who has always known too much, seen too much. Papa called her his angel, and she is. She’s always been there, guarding over me. Always. Her eyes search mine, switching from concern to… something else entirely. Her lips kick up at the corners, and she sighs, long and loud. “Oh, Mia,” she says, voice raspy with emotion. “You know… you’ve always been my little girl.” She pats her chest. “Since you were three years old. In here, you’ve always been mine. And I have both loved and hated watching you grow up. Which is what you are now, sweetheart. You’re all grown, and you can make your own choices—choices you think are best for you and Benny. Choices that will make you happy.”
She knows. Without me having to say a word, she knows.
“And as sure as the sun will rise, Mia, that man out there, Benny’s father—there’s only one man I’ve ever seen love as much and as hard as he does. And that’s your papa.”