by Ari Reavis
“And what does your brother do now?”
“Well his story sounds a hell of a lot like yours really. He got arrested when he was nineteen and did nine months in the county jail for having a few bags of weed on him. When he got out, he said he never wanted to be in there again, so he got a job at the community center that had opened in our town. Now he works there, doing the afterschool programs and outreach.”
“And you? Where were you while he was in jail? You would’ve been...fifteen, right? So, what happened to you?”
“I was able to stay in the apartment for the first six months between my job and what Liam had saved, but when that ran out, I had to go stay in shelters. I think that’s probably the one thing my brother will never forgive himself for. He feels like he left me to fend for myself those months, no matter how much I tell him I was okay.”
“The shelters were...safe?”
“For the most part. When I could, I found a bed in ones that were just for women. Those were better, but I had to be careful not to go to the same ones too much, or they’d start asking questions or comment on how young I looked. But I just went to school during the day, visited my brother on the days I could, and stayed to myself when I went to the shelters.”
“God Mariah, that’s so fucked up.”
“But here I am, flying. So I’m fine.”
“That doesn’t mean that it wasn’t fucked up.”
“No, but it was better than being with my parents, and the moment my brother got out, he got me into an apartment. I don’t even know how honestly.”
“Maybe he got some assistance.”
I shake my head. “We couldn’t. People would’ve asked too many questions, asked where our parents were, and why I wasn’t with them. We couldn’t risk it. We were okay though. We struggled, but we were together and safe. That’s all that really mattered.”
Damir reaches over and links our hands, squeezing mine as he continues driving.
“I like your brother more each time I hear about him,” he says.
“I’ll be sure to let him know.” I chuckle.
“We’re here.”
He slows down and parks in front of a two-story white house with large bay windows on both sides of the entrance.
“I see why you say it’s your masterpiece.” I smile.
“Just wait until you see the inside. Ready?” he asks.
I nod, and he gets out of the car and opens my door. When he helps me out, he keeps his hold of my hand and pulls me into his body. My head falls back so I’m looking into his eyes when he gives me a barely there kiss.
“Thank you for coming,” he says against my lips.
“Thank you for asking.”
We’re interrupted by the door opening loudly behind us.
“Well don’t keep her all to yourself,” a sweet voice calls. “Bring her in here.”
Damir grins and moves his mouth to my ear.
“Here we go.”
Chapter 8
Mariah reaches back into the car to get her mystery box off the dashboard, and I wave to my mom. I don’t think her smile could get any bigger, although I should’ve expected that from the way she screamed when I told her I was bringing Mariah home to meet her.
“Oh, you’re just beautiful,” my mom says to Mariah when we reach the door.
“Mom, this is Mariah. Mariah, my mother, Evelyn.” I introduce them.
Mariah extends her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
My mom waves Mariah’s hand away and goes in for a hug.
“Oh, honey. I’ve heard so much about you. Come in, come in.”
We go inside, me apparently forgotten because I barely get a look from my mom. She ushers Mariah into the kitchen and yells for my dad to hurry and join us.
“Mariah’s here.” She shouts. “Damien, if you don’t get your butt in here.”
“I’m coming, Evelyn.” He chuckles. “There she is.” He enters the kitchen and hugs Mariah.
God, I hope she’s okay with all this hugging. I have to wonder if she’s cringing inside from both the hugs and all the attention being on her like this. At least my dad notices I’m here and comes over and hugs me too.
“How was the drive?” he asks.
“Shorter than usual with someone to talk to this time.”
“I have a feeling you’ll have company on all your trips going forward,” he says low.
“What are talking about dad?” I chuckle.
“I know love when I see it.”
My eyes snap to Mariah to see if she heard my dad. I was so close to saying it in the car, but I didn’t want to make this weekend awkward for her. She wouldn’t have even had to say it back, I wouldn’t want her to if she didn’t mean it, but I didn’t want her to feel weird for not saying it back either. Especially when she’s meeting my parents.
“Look at you.” My dad brings my eyes back to him. “You can’t even take your eyes off her. Oh yeah, you’re in deep.”
“Maybe.”
“There’s no maybe about it,” he murmurs as my mom and Mariah’s attention comes to us.
“Oh hello, Mom. Finally realized I’m alive?” I joke.
“I’m sorry honey. How are you?” She hugs me.
“Good. You have to give Mariah a tour of the house. I was telling her how me and Dad built your dream house.”
Her eyes light up. “Aren’t my men just the sweetest? Come on, I’ll give you a tour while dinner finishes.”
“We’ll just quietly follow along, I guess.” My dad laughs.
My mom shows her every inch of the five bedroom, three bath dream house we built her. We end up back in her favorite room, the kitchen with its huge island and double oven. The timer goes off, and Mariah helps my mom plate the food while my dad and I get the drinks and forks.
“Do you like to cook Mariah?” my mom asks.
“I wish. I try, but I usually end up with a kitchen full of smoke.” She chuckles.
“Oh, we’ll make a chef of you yet. This one”—my mom juts her thumb at me—“Used to eat me out of house and home, and I’m pretty sure that hasn’t changed over the years.”
“I definitely want to learn.” Mariah smiles. “But you’re in for quite an experience. Even when I follow recipes to the letter, my food just never turns out very well.”
“Your mother never cooked with you?” my mom inquires.
My breath hitches thinking the question will take Mariah aback, but I should have known better. Nothing seems to shake my girl. Wow. My girl. My woman. I can’t even explain the pride that rushes through me just from thinking that. And the thought that she could be mine, for life.
“My mother wasn’t a very good cook herself, and we’ve been estranged since I was fourteen, so no cooking lessons there.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t mean to pry.” My mom apologizes.
Mariah shrugs. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”
“Are you estranged because you want to be?” my dad asks, never one to take a hint.
“I am.” Mariah answers.
My dad nods. “Good. I find whenever that’s the case, then it’s for the best.”
“That’s definitely been my experience.” Mariah gives a small smile.
“Well dig in,” my mom says.
God, how I missed my mom’s cooking ever since I moved out. I eat the baked chicken, rice, black eyed peas, and macaroni and cheese in what feels like seconds.
“Do you have any other family?” my mom asks as we’re finishing up.
“Just my brother,” Mariah replies.
“And he’s met Damir?”
“In the funniest way, yes.” Mariah grins and proceeds to tell my parents about that whole night.
“My boy.” My dad laughs. “Well at least you were prepared to go caveman style over your woman.”
My mom just rolls her eyes at my dad and focuses back on Mariah.
“And does he have an issue with Damir being black?”
“Mo
m,” I grumble.
“I just want to know. You act like that wouldn’t be a problem for some people.”
“My brother has never cared about race or color. I mean, he’s never had a problem with having a half-Dominican sister, and fought anyone who made it known they did have a problem with my race. And even if he’d voiced an opinion on Damir’s race, I would have set him straight there and then.”
“Oh, I like her.” My mom nods. “She’s got sass. Something every woman needs in this world. Now for dessert...”
“Actually, I brought something, if you don’t mind.” Mariah interrupts her and stands up.
She walks over to that mystery box I’ve been wondering about and picks it up, bringing it to the table. When my mom opens it, her entire face lights up, and she’s so giddy, she gives a few claps.
“It’s my pie, Damien.” She exclaims before hugging Mariah. “Oh, thank you. I haven’t been able to have it in so long. How did you know?”
“Damir took me there for dinner and mentioned this was your favorite thing on the menu.”
“I tried to bribe the owner to move his restaurant out here,” my dad confesses. “But he wouldn’t be swayed.”
Everyone laughs, but I’m just speechless looking over at Mariah. She remembered the pie, and even more, took it upon herself to get one for my mom, when honestly, that thought had never even crossed my own mind. Did I say I love this woman? No, I love the shit out of this woman. She looks over at me then, her beautiful smile making the breath catch in my chest, and I realize she’s the one. And I plan to make sure she knows it.
“Did I say I liked you? I love you,” my mom says, hugging Mariah again as my dad starts cutting slices out of the pie. “Well Damir, if you don’t marry her, I will.”
A shocked laugh bursts out of me. “Really Mom?”
“Seems you have some competition.” Mariah arches a brow.
“Oh really?”
She shrugs and smiles.
After we’ve eaten the pie, we go into the basement to watch a movie before going to bed. My parents have us set up in the guestroom furthest from their bedroom, and I have to laugh a little inside. My mom may want me to get married and have lots of babies, but I know she damn sure doesn’t want to hear them being made.
“They’re amazing,” Mariah says low as we get under the covers.
“You’re amazing. I told you they’d love you,” I murmur against her ear.
I wrap my arms around her, and she moves back until her body is curled up beside mine. We go to sleep just like that.
When I wake up, it’s to the smell of bacon and pancakes, and the faint sound of my parents laughing downstairs. All thoughts of eating flee my mind when Mariah backs up into me and rubs her ass on my hard dick. I groan and she chuckles, squirming against me more.
“You know exactly what you’re doing, don’t you?” I ask against the side of her neck.
“Maybe,” she teases.
“I don’t think you quite understand how much I adore this ass of yours, so if I were you, I’d stop before we end up having sex right in my parent’s house.”
She only grinds back against me harder, moving my hand from her hip under her shirt. Well that’s all I need. When I realize she’s not wearing a bra, my dick gets impossibly harder as I palm her breast. She lowers my boxer briefs down until her hand is wrapped around me. When she places me to her opening, she’s already wet and ready for me.
I slide into her, and her tightness immediately makes me groan. Being inside her with nothing between us is pleasure on another level. I hold her to me as I thrust into her, her ass rubbing against me every time I push in. She drops her head back, and her small breaths turn into low moans, then to her whispering for me not to stop.
“I never want to leave this pussy.” I nip on the tip of her ear.
“Oh, God.” She breathes.
I lift her leg onto my thigh and start driving into her. Her arm comes up and wraps around my neck as her gasps spur me on. My balls begin to tighten, but I hold off, needing to feel her coming on me before I release. Her pussy gets tighter around me, but it’s when I pinch her nipple that she falls apart with a gasp, muffled behind her hand coming up and covering her mouth.
She spasms around me, more wetness coating my dick while she sighs my name and pushes back harder into me. I put my face in her neck and finally let go, coming inside her until I feel like every ounce of energy leaves my body, and I sag into the bed behind her. Her fingers stroke circles on my neck until our breaths even out.
“No condom.” I murmur after we’re laying there in silence for a while.
“I noticed.” She chuckles. “I’ll get the morning after pill since I’m not on anything.”
“If you want.”
“If I want, huh?”
“Yup.” I place one last kiss to her neck before getting out of bed. “And if we want breakfast before my dad eats everything, we better go down now.”
“I’m gonna take a quick shower. Save me something please.”
“I’ll try.”
I pull my boxer briefs back up before putting on pajama pants and a T-shirt while Mariah goes to the bathroom. When I get downstairs, I claim the last five pancakes and some pieces of bacon and toast for Mariah before pouring two glasses of orange juice.
“So what’s on the agenda for today, sleepy head?” my mom asks.
“Whatever you guys wanna do is fine,” I answer before taking a bite.
“The mall.” She smiles, giving the answer I thought she would.
“That’s fine with me. And I had already mentioned we might go there to Mariah.”
“She’s lovely,” my mom says, taking the seat next to me at the island, coffee mug in hand. “I’ve had to wait twenty-seven years for you to bring a girl home, but now I’ll say it was worth the wait.”
I chuckle. “I’m glad you like her.”
“And you? I think you more than like her.”
“Dad said the same thing.”
“And are we wrong?”
“No, you’re not. But maybe let me tell her that before I tell you guys.”
She sighs dramatically. “Oh, if I must. As long as it gets me some grandbabies out of it.”
“Now you sound like dad. Where is he anyway?”
“Getting dressed. He already inhaled his usual ten pancakes.” She chuckles.
“Mariah’s getting ready too.”
“Ready to fall in love.” My mom sing-songs.
“What’s this I hear about love?” Mariah’s voice reaches me right before she walks into the kitchen.
“Mom,” I whisper, pleading with her not say anything.
“Nothing,” my mom says. “Oh, I love your hair.”
I look at Mariah then and damn near do a doubletake. Her hair is still wet and curly. She’s already beautiful with how her hair usually is, but with the curls hanging around her face, she’s stunning.
“We were talking about going to the mall today.” I tell Mariah.
“Okay. I’m ready whenever you guys are.”
“I managed to salvage a plate for you.” I push her food over to her. “I’m gonna hop in the shower.”
I kiss Mariah’s forehead before walking across the kitchen and quietly begging my mom not to chase Mariah off while I’m gone. She just winks at me and grins. Lord. After I shower and dress in jeans and a long-sleeve black T-shirt, I go back downstairs and find my parents showing Mariah some of our family photos.
“I see you just couldn’t help yourself, huh?” I say to my mom.
“Oh, you were such a cute baby.” Mariah chuckles.
“Just imagine how your kids together would look.” My mom smiles.
My body stills at her words, but Mariah just smiles right back, picking up the next photo.
“They would be the absolute cutest,” Mariah adds.
Babies. Yeah, I could definitely see myself having a baby with Mariah.
“You guys ready to go?” my dad asks.
“Yup. We can head out.” I walk to the kitchen to get the keys off the counter.
The mall is crowded as usual, and also as usual, my mom window shops, looking at jackets, purses, and even candles through windows, and shooting my dad down every time he offers to get something for her. She does accept gifts from him, but for whatever her reason, she doesn’t let him buy them when they’re together. Maybe she likes the surprise, I don’t know.
Suddenly Mariah lets go of my hand, walking over to the window of a jewelry shop and looking at the bracelet on display. I take a hold of her hand again and lead her into the store.
“What are you doing?” she whispers.
“You’re never window shopping again.” I tell her.
“Damir, I was just looking at it.”
“And now you’ll be wearing it. There’s nobody else it would look better on.”
“Can I help you?” the man behind the counter asks.
“Damir.” Mariah tries to pull me away.
“I would like to see the bracelet that’s in the front display case.”
He smiles. “I know just the one. I’ll be right back.”
“Thank you.”
“Damir, this is crazy. You don’t even know how much it costs.”
“Does it matter?”
“Um, hell yes, it matters.”
“Are you ever going to buy me gifts?”
“Well, of course.”
“Then let me buy you this.”
She softens under my hands. “Fine. I’ll let you drape me in diamonds.”
“Good. I’m glad we had this talk.” I laugh as the man brings the bracelet back over.
“I’ll take it,” I say before he’s even completely back behind the counter.
He hands it to me, and I turn to wrap it around Mariah’s wrist.
“You better be careful or I’ll get spoiled.” She grins while I kiss her cheek.
“Go ahead and start then.”
We get lunch after we leave the mall and go to the movies before heading back to my parents’ house. Mariah helps my mom make lasagna and garlic bread for dinner, and when we’re done eating that, we watch a movie. I’m hardly paying attention to the side conversation my mom and Mariah are having on the other couch when I hear words that make me cringe a little inside.