Finally, Forever

by Katie Kacvinsky

  “When can I see them?” Dylan asks.

  “They’re washing him up,” Mike says. “Serena’s still in surgery. She’ll be out soon.”

  Dylan follows Mike down the hall and they disappear behind two white folding doors. I’m so relieved I could fall over. I look around the hospital wing and don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know if I’m hungry or exhausted or thirsty or all of the above. I just know I need to move.

  I take the elevator down to the first floor and it’s full of people coming in and out and wheelchairs and commotion. I spot the gift shop across the room.

  Birth. Celebration. Gifts. Perfect.

  I walk inside and this old lady with glasses halfway down her nose greets me with a smile.

  I look around and try to grasp what to buy a runaway, teenage, unwed mother. I grab a handful of balloons that say congratulations. I grab some flowers—that seems fitting. There’s a bakery section, with rolls and donuts and muffins and I grab a six pack of assorted muffins because this also seems appropriate. The donuts look mouth watering, so I grab a half-dozen of those, too. Then I pass some photo frames and there’s a square one that’s blue around the edges and in yellow loopy writing it says, “It’s a boy!”

  I grab that too, and pay for everything at the checkout. Five minutes later I walk down the hallway trying to balance all of my purchases. I feel strange and somewhat used and it dawns on me. My mom and sister used to talk about it and I always shrugged it off, but now I can officially say it.

  I have just stress shopped.

  ***

  When I get back upstairs the nurse informs me they’ve moved Serena to the recovery wing. I walk down white corridors through doors that buzz open like I’m on the Starship Enterprise. I’m wondering if I’ll reach a transporter pad and get beamed to Serena’s room.

  I look for the room number the nurse gave me and the door is ajar so I tap it open.

  “Hey,” Dylan says. She’s in a chair by the bed, holding Luke. Serena’s sitting up in bed, her back braced by about four pillows. Mike is sitting at her other side. They all look at me and the armful of shiny colorful objects in my arms.

  “Hey. Congratulations,” I say. I set the vase of flowers on the counter in front of the bed. I set the balloons next to the window. I put the muffins and donuts on a table in the corner of the room.

  “Wow, feeling generous?” Mike observes.

  I hand him the plastic bag, completely embarrassed. He opens it and pulls out the chintzy frame I just wasted thirty five bucks on.

  “Nice, something I can actually use.” He holds it up for us all to admire. “A baby beer coaster!”

  “It’s a frame you idiot,” Serena says.

  Mike stands up. “Thanks man,” he says and throws an arm around me like we’re brothers. I almost have the urge to hug him back. I can feel the room swell with joy and love and a perfect weight of relief.

  Dylan hands Luke off to Mike and Mike’s eyes are mesmerized. He bends down close to Serena until their faces are inches apart.

  “I love you baby.”

  “I love you too.”

  “Will you marry me?” He cradles Luke against him and gets down on one knee. I look at Dylan and her mouth is hanging open, her eyes wide with amazement.

  “I’m serious, Serena. Will you please marry me?” He looks doubtful and Serena laughs. Her eyes are flooding with tears.

  “Yes. Of course I’ll marry you.”

  He leans down to her and they’re kissing and cradling the baby between them and it’s one of the purest things I’ve ever seen. I look down at my feet. We’re all quiet for a few seconds and I lean my head down and whisper in Dylan’s ear.

  “Should I go get some more balloons?” I ask.

  Dylan

  I reach out and touch the sunshine gleaming on the window ledge. The heat feels like happiness and I want to grab onto it. I lean my forehead against the warm glass and look down at the Pacific Ocean, sapphire blue in the bright sun. I can see all the way down to the Santa Monica Pier.

  It’s my second time in Los Angeles, and she intrigues me. She is a city of many faces. She is elegant, mysterious, enchanting, dark, melancholy, and abused. She wears so many personalities. Her mood changes as quickly as her streets. Her neighborhoods are her costumes. She can never make up her mind and we have that in common. I can’t wait to get to know her. I think we’ll be good friends.

  “Nice penthouse view for a newborn,” I observe. We’re alone in the delivery room. Mike and Gray left to grab something to eat.

  “Too bad Luke can barely see anything yet,” Serena says. I look down at his glassy eyes that squint wearily at the outdoor light flooding in. I try to memorize his face but it’s like trying to take in a panoramic view. Just when one thing catches my eyes, something else distracts me. I lean down and press my nose against his smooth forehead and breathe him in. Newborn babies smell like warm rolls baking.

  My sister asks for Luke by opening up her arms and I place him in her hands. I look down at him, at his little head stuffed inside a blue stocking cap, and I’m amazed how much a heart can grow and change and make room to love someone so quickly and effortlessly. A protective instinct comes over me. I just want Luke to be happy. The thought of lugging him around the country and living out of hotel rooms so Mike can perform in seedy nightclubs (with way too much black décor) makes me cringe.

  “What are you guys going to do?” I ask.

  “Well, believe it or not, we have an idea,” Serena says.

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “Mike’s aunt lives in Santa Monica. That’s why he scheduled his tour to end out here. We’re moving into her house. She’s older, never married, no kids. I guess being an entertainment lawyer is pretty time consuming,” Serena says. “But it pays really well,” she adds. “She has a house four blocks up from the beach.”

  My mouth drops open. I am almost jealous of my sister.

  “And LA is a great place for Mike to be. His agent lives out here. He might even get some acting jobs.”

  “He has an agent?” I ask, surprised.

  “He’s really serious about his career,” she says. “He has all these plans to write and do sketch comedy and podcasts. He’s the most motivated person I’ve ever met. He just acts like a slacker.”

  I can’t believe it. My little sister grew up. What I saw as screwing up her life was only her striking out on her own path.

  “I’m surprised Serena,” I admit. “I didn’t know you had it all figured out.” I look out the window. I’m the one that’s screwed up.

  “I didn’t expect to meet the love of my life when I was seventeen,” Serena says.

  “It’s bad timing,” I say.

  “That’s how we’re different,” she says. “You always talked about meeting Gray like it was the worst possible timing. But I think the timing is perfect. I get to spend my entire life with my best friend, the person who makes me happier than anyone. I get to be young with him and grow old with him. I didn’t have to wait to meet him until I was fifty years old. It’s the greatest thing that ever could have happened. But Mom and Dad, even you, wouldn’t accept that. You all said I was too young.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t want to hear it anymore. That’s why I ran away.”

  “Not everybody is ready to settle down when they’re eighteen,” I point out, but Serena shakes her head.

  “It’s not settling down. It’s wising up. Being in a relationship doesn’t tie you down. You can still go on all your crazy adventures, but it’s even better, because you have a best friend to go with you.”

  I nod. I have to admit it. “You’re right,” I say.

  “Are you still okay with moving in and helping me?” Serena asks. She looks hopeful.

  “Of course,” I say. “I promised you I would. I’m not going to back out.”

  “I can’t pay you, but obviously you can live with us for free. Mike’s aunt has three extra bedrooms.”

  “It’s alrig
ht,” I say. “I actually do pretty well with photography.”

  She studies me. “What about Gray?” she asks.

  I shrug. I’m wondering the same thing. What about Gray? That question could be the title of my memoir.

  “You don’t want to follow him to Albuquerque?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “I tried that once,” I said. “The word ‘follow’ doesn’t really apply to me.”

  She nods. “That’s true. You could never be a follower,” she says. She looks down at Luke for a few seconds. “You liked living in Albuquerque, right?” she asks.

  I sit in the sunlight on the window ledge. “I loved it, but I always felt like I was a visitor living in Gray’s world. It never felt right. I was changing too much to try and fit in, and Gray called me out on it. That’s why we broke up.”

  “He wanted you to change?” she asks.

  “No,” I say. “That was the problem. He didn’t want me to change. Gray’s the only person I’ve ever met who gets me. He would never try to change me. But I felt like I was living out his dream and it was holding me back from all the things I wanted to do.”

  Serena pieces this all together. “Well, if you wanted to leave, if you wanted to be with Gray, I would understand. I wouldn’t be mad.”

  “Thanks,” I tell her. “But right now I need to be here with you.”

  She sighs with relief and smiles. Serena is so calm and happy, holding onto Luke as if her arms were molded for his curled frame.

  “I’m glad it’s all falling into place for you,” I say.

  “Finally,” she says and leans her head back on the pillows.

  “For the time being?” I joke and she shakes her head.

  “Forever,” she says and looks out the window at the shimmering skyline.

  Gray

  Mike and Dylan and I take turns holding Luke in the recovery room. I’m not a huge baby person, but Luke has spiky black hair and blue-gray eyes that already can focus a little. I swear I catch him smile. He’s wearing a blue stocking cap that has shark eyes and a mouth. I’m jealous at how cool kids’ stuff is.

  Half eaten muffins and donuts litter paper plates strewn around the countertops. The television is turned onto baseball. A relaxed silence has settled around the room. Mostly, everyone is just exhausted.

  I’m sitting next to Dylan in the corner of the room, behind a table, and she’s showing me pictures on her camera. She documented everything: the hospital room, the scale, the chrome sink Luke was washed in, the hands of the doctor who delivered him. Luke’s purple hands and feet and nose. She says she’s going to make a collage, or maybe a baby book titled The Day You Were Born. Her gift ideas are a lot more creative than my lousy attempt. I forgot how much I missed the click of her camera, how it had become such a familiar sound, like a spot in the staircase that always creaks, or a heater tapping. They are sounds you become accustomed to because they sound like home.

  Serena suddenly speaks up. “Favorite movie ending of all times,” she says to all of us. “Go.”

  “Karate Kid,” Mike says.

  “The Hangover,” I say. “The closing credits are the best part of the movie.”

  “I loved the ending of Twilight,” Serena says, “simply because it ended and I didn’t have to sit through the terrible movie one second longer.”

  “Sixteen Candles,” Dylan says. I look over at her.

  “It doesn’t star Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan,” I say with surprise.

  “Long Duck Dong is the greatest character name of all times,” Mike says. “I’ll give you that.”

  “Every girl goes to mush at the end of Sixteen Candles,” Dylan claims and Serena nods in agreement.

  “Why?” Mike and I ask at the same time.

  “It’s every girls dream,” Serena says. “Hot, popular guy falls for nerdy awkward girl. And he picks her up in a Porsche? You can’t beat that.”

  “That’s it?” Mike asks. “The guy drives a nice car, and it’s the greatest ending of all time? You two will fit in so well in Los Angeles.”

  “No,” Dylan says, her face thoughtful. “It’s the feeling at the end of the movie that gets me. It’s like a fantasy. I can’t describe why it’s so good. You just have to see it.”

  I lean my head to the side and think about this.

  Suddenly the door swings open and a dozen colorful balloons come sailing into the room in front of two frantic, frazzled looking adults.

  “Serena!” Dylan’s mom exclaims. I’ve never met Dylan’s parents, but I can tell immediately that it’s her. She has the same freckly face and narrow nose. Her hair is strawberry blond, lighter than Dylan’s, and her eyes are greener but she has the same smile and pale pink lips.

  I look over at her dad, and I remember Dylan telling me he isn’t her biological father. Her real dad has been out of her life since she was young. I watch him set down the balloons, and a card, and a box, and a gift bag. Apparently he is also the victim of stress shopping.

  Serena sits up in bed, a little stiffly, and her mom bends down to hug her. She wipes hair off of Serena’s forehead to kiss her and then she’s immediately clawing the air for Luke. Dylan scoots her chair back and stands up and offers her parents a hug.

  I stay in my seat in the corner of the room and watch the family reunion unfold.

  Mike takes a hesitant step toward Dylan’s dad and extends his hand.

  “Good to see you again, Dean,” Mike says carefully. I watch their interaction and wonder if Dean would rather punch Mike in the face. He slowly extends his hand and shakes Mike’s, but he doesn’t smile. Dean’s tall and he’s balding. He spikes the dark hair he has left so he looks like some kind of a CEO for a record label.

  “Is it true?” Dylan’s mom asks. Her eyes pass between Mike and Serena. “Are you two engaged?” From the anxious look on her face, I can’t tell if Dylan’s mom wants the rumor to be validated.

  Mike nods. “I asked her a couple of hours ago,” he said. “It seemed an appropriate time, when she was still doped up on drugs and didn’t have the sense to say no.”

  No one objects to this reasoning.

  “She doesn’t have a ring yet.” He looks over at Serena. “I figure you might want to help pick it out?”

  Serena nods. “I don’t trust your taste in jewelry. If it were up to you, it would be a pink diamond in the shape of a heart.”

  Mike shakes his head. “You know I can do better than that. I was thinking more a Lord of the Rings design. We could each get gold bands with an inscription along the side that stands out when it’s heated. I’ve already been thinking about the words. One ring to find us, one ring to bind us and in marriage to forever unite us.”

  I try not to laugh.

  “Wouldn’t that be romantic?” Mike asks.

  “No,” Serena and her mother say at the same time.

  “When will the wedding be?” her mom asks.

  “Soon,” Serena says. “Before you guys head back home, once I’m out of the hospital. Mike’s aunt has a friend who can officiate it,” Serena says. “We just want something small, on the beach.”

  Dylan’s parents look at each other and nod. They know better than to say no.

  “I need to make this legal before she changes her mind,” Mike says.

  I look at Dylan and all the hostility in her eyes has vanished. She’s actually smiling at him.

  “Well, you two make cute babies, I can say that much,” Dylan’s mom says and presses her lips to Luke’s forehead.

  I stand up from the corner seat to offer my chair and Dylan’s mom looks over at me. She studies me for a few seconds.

  “Are you a friend of Mike’s?” she asks.

  “He’s like a brother to me,” Mike nods, and I roll my eyes.

  “Wait,” Dylan’s mom says. She blinks hard and squints her eyes at me. “I swear, you look just like Gray,” she says. “Dylan, doesn’t he look a lot like that baseball player you showed me pictures of? The one you met in Phoenix, who you always
called The Love of Your Life? Or your Soulmate? Or your Future Husband?”

  Everyone turns to stare at me. If this were a movie with subtitles, the caption ‘awkward silence’ would work nicely right now.

  “That is Gray, Mom,” Dylan says. “Gray, this my mom, Gail. And my dad, Dean.”

  Her mom hands the baby off to Mike and walks towards me. I reach my hand out to shake hers, but she stretches out both of her arms and I know she won’t settle for less than hug. I have to duck to meet her. Dylan’s dad must have been tall.

  She leans back and looks in my eyes. “I’m so happy to finally meet you,” she says. “If I hadn’t talked to you on the phone that one time, I would have sworn you were just one of Dylan’s made-up travel stories.”

  Sometime I feel like I am.

  She looks across the room at Dylan. “I thought you were driving with Nick?” she asks. She lets go of my waist, but one of her hands holds onto my arm, as if she’s afraid I’m going to run off.

  Dylan shakes her head, sadly. “Orson died in Omaha.”

  “Who the hell is Orson?” Mike asks.

  “Where the hell is Omaha?” Serena asks.

  “Nebraska,” I clarify.

  “Hey, what do you call a really hot girl in Nebraska?” Mike asks and we all turn to look at him.

  “A tourist,” he says.

  I start to crack up and Serena shakes her head at me. “Don’t encourage his bad jokes,” she says.

  Dylan’s mom looks between me and Mike. “You boys are going to fit in very well in this family.”

  “Nebraska is a lovely state, full of lovely people,” Dylan says, defensively.

  “Who do you know in Nebraska?” Serena demands.

  “Chris and Sue Anne,” Dylan informs her family. “We practically owe them our lives. A tornado almost lifted our car off the ground.”

  “Orson?” Her mom asks. “That thing is a barge. Nothing can lift it.”

  “No we were in Gray’s car,” Dylan clarifies.

  “Just put it in a scrapbook, Dylan,” Serena says.