by Damian Bloom
I sip the last of my tea.
“I’ll go bring more,” she says, slipping off the couch and waddling halfway through the living room before her eyes widen and she teeters on her feet like she’s gotten dizzy. She closes her eyes and, almost as if in slow motion, topples over. Close enough to recognize the first signs of her fainting, Adam swoops in and catches her before she can hurt herself. Choking noises pop out of her gaping mouth in quick succession as seizures overtake her body.
I jump to my feet. “Lay her down on the couch,” I shout, already panicking.
Adam does as he’s told, carrying Grandma across the room like she weighs nothing.
Once she’s lying down, the choking sounds stop, but her eyelids flutter violently, and she opens and closes her mouth repeatedly, like a fish out of water. When I listen to her breathing, I find it shallow and quick. She clutches her chest.
“We need to call an ambulance,” I say.
“No,” she barks immediately, propping herself up almost to a sitting position. However, she quickly softens back into the couch.
Adam’s already fished his phone out of his pocket. “What should we do?” He’s waiting for my order.
I’m still agitated, but Grandma’s reaction gives me pause. Her cheeks are rosy; her face, other than a tight frown, seems normal. “I’ve never seen an attack like this before,” I say. “I don’t know what’s wrong with her. Grandma, we need to call an ambulance.”
Before Adam can form the three digits, she begins to speak in a high-pitched voice. “I’m getting a vision,” she declares, almost shouting.
“A vision,” Adam exclaims, mouth hanging wide with shock. When he turns to me, his eyes are as big as saucers. He presses his lips together like he doesn’t know what conclusion to draw, the skeptic in him at odds with the violent reaction Grandma’s having to her very real gift. He’s still waiting for a command. “Is it really happening?”
“Oh yeah,” Grandma goes on before I can express my own skepticism. “It’s a big one,” she says in a guttural voice. “Oh boy, quite the vision, this one.”
My eyebrows arch by themselves. I’ve never seen a vision like this. She’s never made such a show of it. And her physical symptoms are all wrong, as well. She’s too…present.
“I see…” She stretches her arms out as if she could reach and grasp the future that’s supposedly in front of her. “I see many years of happiness.” I stand up and frown. “Yes, this is what I need to tell you, boys.” Thinking we can’t see it, she peers at us through her lashes, gauging our reactions. “Yes, Luis,” she says, pointing right at me with an almost threatening finger. It sounds like someone’s run her voice through some bad horror movie voice effects. “I’m being told that you should cast all worries aside. I see that Adam is definitely the right man for you. Beyond a doubt!”
Adam observes her every move almost reverentially. I don’t know if he genuinely believes her, but he’s undoubtedly fascinated.
“You’ve got absolutely no reason to worry.” With every sentence, her voice grows louder. She fills her lungs with large mouthfuls of air. “It’s all smooth sailing from here.” She stops, swallows, thinks for a second, then changes course: “Also, I see a wedding in the very near future.” She sounds comically similar to a carnival fortune-teller. “Soon, you’ll start thinking of marriage, and you’ll plan a wedding for next year. A beautiful, elegant wedding.”
I roll my eyes, trying hard not to laugh. She herself seems to struggle against a satisfied smile at the thought of attending a wedding again.
Poor Adam is eating it all up, eyebrows perched high on his forehead, eyes so wide that they threaten to fall out of their sockets. He looks up at me like a lost puppy, wondering what to do, how he can help, questioning everything he thinks he knows about reality. In a way, I almost want to let him believe Grandma’s show, so he never doubts her visions again. Hell, I almost want to believe it myself. If this were a real vision, it would be exactly what I need to hear at the moment.
I wink at Adam, make a sign that he should let me handle this, then say, “That’s odd…”
“What is?” He looks from me to Grandma, trying to catch on.
“She’s never had visions about things that have already happened. After all, we’ve already started planning the wedding.”
Once I face her with her kryptonite, one of Grandma’s eyes flies open and takes us in, darting from one to the other. “Really? You boys are getting married and haven’t told me?” Her outrage scatters swiftly, and her chest expands with delight. “Finally. A wedding.”
“I knew it,” I snap. “You big faker.”
After a second’s surprise, Grandma squeezes her eyes shut and resumes her haunting voice. “I mean, yes, that’s exactly what I meant to say. You’re already discussing marriage, and you’ll have a wonderful wedding.” Falling silent, she waits for a reaction.
“The end,” she adds when neither I nor Adam say anything. When she lets her head hang to the side like she’s fallen asleep, I can’t hold back my laughter any longer. Adam, having realized Grandma’s sly game, grins with admiration.
“The end? Don’t quit your day job, Grandma,” I say. “You’re not that good of an actress.”
After she hurriedly rubs her eyes in her best impression of someone who’s just waking up, she even has the nerve to act surprised. “Luis. Adam. What happened? Did I—Did I fall asleep?” She brings a hand to her chest, clutching the collar of her blouse. “Oh, dear, I hope I didn’t have a vision…”
Fists firmly planted on my hips, I tap my foot and scowl at her, but I’m only half-serious. “Grandma, you’re really insulting our intelligence here. You’ve never seen one of your own visions, and it shows. I’d understand if you fooled Adam, who’s never been there for a real one, but I’ve seen enough to know what they’re like.”
Like a misbehaving child in the principal’s office, Grandma wrings her hands in her lap, head bent—the image of guilt. She shakes her head and sighs. “I just want to put your mind at ease. This isn’t any way to go into a relationship—suspecting fate of having it out for you.”
I sit down next to her. Adam stays crouching next to the couch, still eying my Grandma with a mixture of amusement and admiration.
Grandma taps a hand on my knee and looks straight into my eyes—she’s got the stern look that used to alert me of an upcoming serious talk when I was a kid. Her locked jaw adopts a sharper edge. Real talk. No more games. “Luis, you don’t recognize true love by visions, by a timeline that either I or anyone else could set. You don’t recognize it by anything other than your feelings.” She stares longingly at the night sky beyond the window, like she’s peeking into a different time. It makes me wonder whether she’s remembering Grandpa. I wish I could remember him. “When true love hits, you know it beyond any doubt. You don’t need a vision to confirm that what you boys have is real. The answer is right there, in your hearts.” Turning her face back to me, she says: “Do you love Adam?”
“I do.” The words take flight like they’ve been waiting on the tip of my tongue.
Grandma reaches her other hand and lays it on Adam’s cheek. “And do you love Luis?”
“I do,” he says, fixing his eyes on me. The strangeness of our I dos leaves us dazed. Is this some sort of peek into our future? To another set of I dos and another set of vows that will soon be uttered? I almost expect to hear wedding bells after these confessions.
But Grandma doesn’t declare us husbands at the end. She just smiles, glowing with contentment, and she nods. “Then that’s all that matters.”
Like he’s listening to the preacher in church, Adam hangs from her every word. I’ve always known Grandma is a captivating character, but I’m so happy to see Adam so enthralled by her. She’s my dearest family. Growing up, when my parents would work all day trying to make ends meet, she was the one I’d spend most of my time with, the one who’d look after me, the one to kiss my scraped knees better. To see Adam like
Grandma and Grandma approve of Adam so definitely fills me with more joy than I ever thought I could contain.
Grandma Hattie squints slightly, like she does when she concentrates on something. “My vision said that you will find true love, but first you have to get your heart broken, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, there you have it.” She claps her hands together like the whole affair has been settled. Pointing to Adam, she says, “He broke your heart, he mended it, and now you’ve found true love. Together.” Despite her accusation, her face melts into a warm, forgiving smile.
Adam smiles back, but a hint of guilt glistens in his eye. He turns to me with another apology written on his face. No, no more guilt. It’s all in the past now. I don’t want him to ever feel guilty about it again. If there’s anything I’ve learned from reading all those romance novels, it’s that whatever lesson he needed to learn before he could fully dedicate himself to this relationship will only make our love stronger.
Shaking my head, I widen my eyes to emphasize my surprise. “I didn’t tell her anything,” I explain.
“Oh, come on.” She flutters a hand in the air. “Like you need to tell me anything. Your whole life, you’ve never gone one week without visiting me, and then suddenly you’re too sad to even leave your house. I knew there must be trouble in paradise.” She scrunches up her nose like she can’t be bothered to speak about this any longer. “But none of that matters now. What matters is that you had an obstacle in your path to real love. And you overcame it. So what is there to worry about?”
I chew on Grandma’s words for a moment. To my surprise, they make undeniable sense. Why have I never thought of this? “Grandma’s right,” I exclaim, grabbing Adam’s hand. “Her vision never mentioned there being two different men.” My eyes widen with a sweet realization. Springing to my feet, I pull Adam up with me. When he towers over me and I’m staring up into his handsome face, I say, “It was you.” I rake a hand through his beard. “You were meant to break my heart, and you were meant to put it back together, and it’s you who I’m meant to end up with. Potentially forever.” I say the words tentatively, studying his face for a reaction. His eyes glimmer with a promising kind of hope, and he nods. He believes it. I know beyond any trace of a doubt that in his chest, the same conviction brews—a love like ours could not have been an accident. It must be fate. This, right here, connecting our hearts, must be the truest kind of love there is.
I notice Grandma dab a handkerchief at her watering eyes. Laying my head on Adam’s broad, sturdy chest, I sigh, all worries taking flight like an enormous starling murmuration. “It’s always been you, Adam.”
Epilogue
Luis
Tanner pops an artichoke wrapper into his mouth, then eyes the rest of the appetizers greedily. “These things are delicious.”
I slap his hand away from the platters. “Can you please wait for everyone?”
“We’ve been waiting for an hour,” he whines, theatrically rubbing his hand. “Weren’t we supposed to be here at six? I’m starving. Where’s your man, anyway?”
That’s an excellent question. I shoot Adam another text, but it goes unread. His only task was picking Grandma up. What could possibly take so long and keep him from answering any of my calls or texts? Every second that passes adds to my panic like a grain of sand in an hourglass.
The Castle Crew’s all here, strewn around the living room. Eric’s tuning his guitar, leaning against the windowsill. I was surprised that he brought it, but he said I’d know later what it’s for. I suspect it’s part of his birthday present.
Peter and Keith have been digging through the bookcase and having a murmured conversation. While my brother speaks with characteristic nonchalance, I notice Keith’s face turning ruddy, his eyes firing miffed glares in his direction.
Lastly, Tanner’s circling the long table I brought into the generous room for our dinner, probably waiting for me to look away before he can go back in for the kill.
I don’t have the patience to keep an eye on him. Increasingly jittery, I meander through the house like a restless ghost, dialing Adam’s mobile phone and my Grandma’s landline again and again. I just need to know they’re okay.
Hector’s also missing. In honor of my birthday, I set out a special bowl of ultra-expensive cat food for him, but he’s nowhere in sight. Other than shorts walks around the backyard, he hasn’t left the house in months, officially turning into a house cat. So, although I’m trying not to overreact, there’s at least a hint of worry that gnaws at my insides as I fruitlessly scan the dusky yard.
Today, I turn twenty-four. So much has happened in the past year that I could almost say I’m living a different life.
My book—Fated—is now out. After Adam told me everything that goes into publishing a book, I instantly knew traditional publishing is not for me. Not now, at least. At this point in my career, I want my books out there—fresh, ready to be enjoyed and discussed. I want to write and publish and receive feedback and grow, not waste months jumping through all the industry’s hoops. So I hired an editor, polished the book for a couple of months, then self-published it and immediately started drafting the next one. With the help of Adam’s advertising power, the novel received infinitely more attention than I dared to hope for, and it was an unexpected success.
This past year was good to me. I found not only love, but also true fulfillment. I never imagined that I could feel as gratified as I do when I share my writing with other hopeless romantics. And if anything I write might dig inside a reader and touch a deeply-buried dream, if it might give someone hope to hang in there and not give up on their childish belief in love just yet—it will all have been worth it.
I’ve been gaining a lot of confidence, and, encouraged by Adam, I quit my job at the Hazelnut so I could dedicate myself to writing full-time. At the moment, I’m editing my third novel.
Adam’s wrapping up the series that made him famous. The last installment is scheduled to be published early next year, and I can feel excitement oozing out of him. He doesn’t like to brag, but I know how proud he is of this last book. However, just like me, he’s dying to work on something new, so he’s begun brainstorming a new series.
My life has become a domestic dream. By Adam’s side, my days float by as we write, read, talk, make love, laugh, dance tirelessly. Our relationship still sizzles with white-hot passion that gives no signs of dying down. Even if it eventually does, our love grows stronger every day, tying us together for, I like to believe, the rest of our lives.
I snap out of my reverie and redial Adam’s number. He doesn’t pick up.
I’m on my way to the kitchen when I see Keith’s eyes watering. My brother doesn’t notice. He turns around and saunters over to Tanner, near the table. Keith’s eyes dart in all directions, desperate for an escape. Before the first tears can flow, I usher him down the hallway and into the bedroom, closing the door behind us.
“Keith…” I lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder, hoping my tone doesn’t come off as pitying. “What’s wrong?”
After I turn on the lights, he sits down on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumping, and stares at his feet. He doesn’t say anything. If he would, he’d probably start crying.
I hover by the door, unsure of what to say or do. Maybe he wants to be alone. “I…Do you want me to leave?”
Keith sniffles, and the first tear trickles down his cheek. “No,” he says. “Please stay.”
“Is this because of my brother?”
Keith nods.
“Does it have anything to do with this new guy he’s seeing?”
A few days ago, Peter fleetingly mentioned some Instagram model he’s apparently gone on a few dates with and has been texting ever since. He seemed to think it might be heading in a serious direction but hasn’t notified me of any progress since.
Wiping the tears away with the backs of his hands, Keith gives me an embarrassed look, like I’ve just gleaned his best-guarded sec
ret. I started having my suspicions about Keith’s feelings for my brother last year. Since then, I’ve been paying closer attention to his behavior, only to have my theories confirmed: Keith is in love with Peter.
“It’s like he’d consider anyone except me.” He sifts the words through clenched jaws. “I feel so invisible when I’m around him. Do you have any idea how much it hurts to watch him get with all these guys that are so obviously wrong for him?”
Pain echoes in his voice, and my heart breaks for him. He and Peter have been friends for so long…I can’t imagine sitting on that secret for this many years. “Have you told him this?”
“What’s the point? He doesn’t see me the same way.” He fists the duvet in frustration. “Besides, I’m scared it would ruin our friendship. I don’t want to lose him.”
“I don’t think you would. You’re Peter’s oldest and closest friend. You’re closer to him than I am, and if I know my brother, trust me, he wouldn’t throw your friendship away for anything in this entire world.” I hope I’m giving him the right advice. “Besides, you don’t know how he feels until you ask him, right?”
Suddenly, the realization strikes me that I, of all people, am giving relationship advice, and I almost burst out laughing. Yes, things can certainly change in one year.
Keith sits up straighter, and the crying’s over. “You really think I should tell him I like him?”
“I do.”
I can pinpoint the moment when my brother’s face pops into Keith’s mind because his face dissolves with gut-wrenching amounts of love. How can Peter be so blind?
When Peter calls my name from the hallway, it startles both of us. With shaky hands, Keith wipes the rest of his tears away and stands up. Peter’s stomping down the hallway throbs in my head. Then, he knocks on the door and slips his head inside. “Ad—What are you guys doing?” He squints at our faces, paying special attention to Keith’s red, puffy eyes.