by Xavier Neal
A couple hours later, we’re settled in our top level hotel room after a nice lunch at a kid friendly restaurant directly on the beach. The three of us change into our swimsuits before heading down to the beach we can see from our hotel.
I take Mak into the water while Gianna sets up an area for us to report back to when we're done. The two of us slowly head towards the water I know is going to be freezing, anxious for two completely different reasons.
“Daddy,” Mak squeaks. “Hold me!”
“Nope,” I reply. “You're gonna let the water and sand touch your feet.”
“Daddy,” she whines. “What if it bites me?”
With a smirk, I look down at her and remember what my father told me when I was afraid of the same thing, “The water doesn't bite Mak.”
Our feet finally reach the cold water and she giggles, “It's cold...”
A smile spreads across my face as her laughter gets louder, soon followed by the urge to start splashing around, welcoming the water, the way I was hoping. The way my father would be proud of her. We move around together, her picking up seashells at the sight of them, riding on my back as we go a little deeper, and jumping on small waves together. Occasionally I look behind us seeing Gianna take pictures of us with her Nikon camera and her phone. Her own hatred of social media soothed my worries she would post all our time together blasting the personal life I wanna keep personal. However, she hasn't posted even a single photo of us as a couple, declaring she has nothing to prove with a picture. She takes so many of everything I've started to wonder if maybe being behind the camera is her true calling.
Once we're both soaking wet and Mak is exhausted with a bucket of seashells, we head for Gianna, who’s set up an area for my princess to rest with a snack waiting and me a chair to relax in beside her.
“Mommy! Mommy!” Mak calls to Gianna at the top of her lungs crawling down me to rush to her lap.
Immediately the two of us lock eyes. After a moment she opens her mouth, preparation to correct her swimming in her eyes, when I clear my throat to grab her attention. The moment she looks at me again, I shake my head in a clear indication to let it go. I should probably have this conversation with Mak right now. Correct it. Put it in perspective as best as possible to a three year old, but there's a gnawing inside me that just can't. It's feels like someone has clamped their fingers on my tongue insisting to let this pass. Not to take away the hope of a child. The faith that life can give you good things. Ha. It's almost as if my father is trying to help even now. A finger unconsciously runs across my tattoo at the same time I offer Gianna a smile to relax.
“Yeah?” Gianna answers as Mak's tiny wet body bounces up and down in her lap.
“The water is so pretty!”
Warmly she smiles at her, “Is it?”
“Yeah! I found seashells! Look!” Without waiting for any sort of response she keeps talking, “I saw fish too!”
“Good birthday then?”
“BEST birthday!”
“Good! That's what I wanna hear. I’m glad you had fun with your daddy!”
“You come when we go back!”
“Yes,” Gianna answers. “I didn't go this time because I wanted to take pictures.”
“Can I see?”
“In a little while. Why don't you go have a snack on your towel and pick out your favorite shells for us to make a necklace out of?”
“Okay!” She squeaks and kisses Gianna on the lips before sliding off of her.
Leaning over I slyly say, “Since you're given out kisses...”
“Uh-huh,” her remark is accompanied with a smile. Sweetly she lifts her lips up to mine, planting a hand on my cheek.
I part my lips just briefly to tease her tongue before pulling back to whisper, “I hope that didn't freak you out. What she called you.”
In a whisper back she says, “It felt perfect.” I open my mouth to say something and she cuts me off. “Just like being with you.”
Unprompted Mak calls out, “I love you daddy!”
Glancing to the side, I see my daughter with a juice box in one hand and a pile of seashells beside her.
“I love you Mak!” I yell back before settling my eyes back into my girlfriend's, “And I love you too Gianna.”
Without hesitation she says, “I love you too.”
My heart swells so fast and painfully full, I feel it could burst in my chest. I peck her lips once more before settling in the lounge seat beside her. As I cover my eyes, I look out at the beautiful blue water that the sunlight is quickly heating, just like love in my entire world. Looking out at the sight feels like I'm looking into my father's blue eyes, the peacefulness of it all, approval that I've finally found myself again.
Chapter 12
About a week and half after our vacation together, life is still smooth sailing, so smooth in fact, I know I should be waiting for the other shoe to drop, for some hiccup like a sick daughter who I have to miss school for or a test I forgot to study for. I've been trying to focus all my energy on just enjoying every minute that falls in my lap with the two girls who together have given me back the life I thought I'd never see again.
“So everything with the therapist is still going good?” I munch down on my banana enjoying our Wednesday lunch alone.
“Yeah.” Gianna grabs a grape off my plate. “She's impressed with my progress. She definitely thinks being around you and Mak have been great for my perspective in regards to food. We're working heavily on changing my negative view of it and also focusing on other aspects of my life to shift the attention to something more productive.”
“Well don't you sound like a grown up.”
The joke makes her swat a hand at me from across the table before taking a chip out the bag beside me. “Oh shut up.” After a beat she sighs, “So I've been thinking...”
“Is this about sex?” I toss the peel to the side. “Because we just talked about it.”
Shaking her head she denies, “No. No. Not that. Though I will say while I am looking forward to that even more if what you can do with your hands and tongue are any kind of prelude to what's to come.”
Pride forces my body to sit up straight. “I like to think they are an understatement in comparison to what's to come.”
A tiny whimper comes from Gianna. Quickly she shakes her head again. “Anyway, I've been thinking...I want you to come over for dinner to meet my parents.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” I declare. “At all.”
“Oh come on. My parents would love you to meet you.”
“I highly doubt that.”
“Why?”
“Because I don't...we aren't...” the words get tangled and frustration causes me to drop a heavy sigh. “I just don't think it's a good idea.”
“And I didn't think you taking surf lessons was a good idea, but I let you.”
“What? Why? I told you I grew around the water...”
“Years ago,” she emphasizes. “But I trusted your judgment. Now trust mine. Come on Connor, I rarely ask you for much...can you do this for me please? It would mean a lot.”
Guilt starts sinking to the pit of my stomach. She's right. In this relationship she's asked for very little. Not that I've asked for much either, but she's giving more and more of her life, herself to us, every day. Sure. We are too, but she's giving finical support as well as emotional. The least I can do is give her extra emotional crap when she asks for it, no matter if I agree with it or not.
In a low grumble I surrender. “Fine.”
“Really?” the excitement stomps my own unhappiness further down.
“Really, but not too late. You know what Mak's like when she's up too late.”
“Grouchy.” She raises her water bottle. Before having a sip she giggles, “Apple didn't fall far from the tree there.”
I shoot her a glare and she snickers. “You're lucky I love you.”
“That I am,” her reply warms my face, the final killer to any crabbine
ss from the situation that is probably not going to be anywhere as painful as I’m imagining.
Around 7:40 the two of us are driving through Gianna’s mansion gates in my car that runs better than it has in the entire time I've owned it. While we went out of town for vacation, we left my car behind and Gianna had someone take it and fix everything they could, making it the closest thing to a brand new car it could be, without actually having to buy a new one. The only reason she didn't get me a new car was because I refused. I already owe her a kidney at this rate. Couldn't afford to have to owe her my right nut too.
In the back MaKayla kicks her feet in excitement. “Daddy! Daddy! Look at the castle! Is that mommy’s castle?”
“It sure is.”
“It's so big! Can we live in it too Daddy? Mommy has lots of room for us. I just know it.”
I sigh, “Someday we will live in our own castle Mak.”
“With Mommy? Like a new castle? I would love a new castle!”
My lips press together uncomfortable at the line of questioning. I know she's just being a three year old, but the questions are ones that have been keeping me up at night since we got back from our vacation. Where the hell is this gonna end? Moving in together? Marriage? More kids? These aren't questions I should have to ask, but they are. Fuck me they really are.
Not surprised at the sight of Gianna waiting for us outside, I point, “Look Mak. There is she.”
“Mommy!” She claps and waves. “Does she see us! She sees us! Hi mommy!”
The repetition of the name has me wanting to sit down with Gianna and talk about the direction we're heading. I know we've glazed over it once or twice, touched on it occasionally, but if we're going to keep behaving like a family, I owe it to Mak to make sure that's where we're headed 100%. And if it is, I will definitely welcome it.
After I park, I get out, adjust my button down white shirt and smile. “Good evening Gianna.”
“Good evening Connor,” she says in a snooty seductive voice, the silliness clear to both of us. After a quick kiss she compliments, “You look fantastic.”
“So do you...” I admire her black tube top cocktail dress that is displaying a few extra healthy curves on her body, but more importantly is highlighting one, her legs. Legs that I know will look even sexier over my shoulders. Damn. Once we have this talk, we're definitely having sex. As if she heard me, she kisses me again, this time rolling her tongue around in my mouth just tempting enough to make me groan in sexual aggravation. Pulling away, I sigh, “Really? You want me to walk in to meet your parents like this?”
She giggles before opening Mak's door, “Well hello there princess!”
“Mommy!” Mak squeals and reaches out for her to hold her.
Gianna undoes her car seat, pulls her into her arms. “Your dress looks very pretty.”
“It’s my Cinderella dress!” She smiles and wiggles around in her puffy white dress she insisted on having.
“It’s so beautiful I think Cinderella would be jealous of you,” Gianna says.
“Of me?” Mak's jaw hits the ground.
“Yup. You are the prettiest princess I've ever seen.” After my daughter giggles again, Gianna asks, “Who bought your dress?”
“Daddy did,” Mak answers twirling her finger around one of the ringlets in Gianna’s pinned up hair. “We left school early today.”
“You bought her a dress to wear for tonight?” Gianna looks touched.
Trying not to blush I nod. “Yeah. I know this night means a lot to you, so I figure a little splurge wouldn’t hurt. Nelly let me off an hour early as long as I promised to make it up.”
“Aw.” She coos as I slide my arm around her waist walking towards her front door with her. “You didn't have to do that Connor. Seriously.”
“I didn't any more than you have to do what you do for us.” Her face twitches a smirk. “I guess it's what people do in love.”
We enter the mansion and immediately Mak starts squealing and talking about how excited she is to finally be in princesses' castle. At the speed Mak is talking, I miss at least half of what she says, but catch the gist of it, the most important being when are we all living in a castle together.
“Mak, we'll talk about all that someday,” I assure her. “Just not today okay?”
“We will?” Gianna's eyebrows rise.
“Unless you don't want to.”
“No I do!” She rushes out.
“Me too...”
Excited she leans over to kiss me when Mak's hands grabs her face giving me a new reference for cock block. “Can we have a puppy in our castle?”
“No more castle questions tonight.” I firmly say.
“But daddy--”
“MaKayla Ashley.”
She pouts with a grumpy face and looks at Gianna for sympathy.
“Oh no you don't.” Gianna shakes her head. “I'm with your daddy on this one. No more castle talk. Did I tell you we're having ice cream tonight?”
“Ice cream!” Mak squeaks.
The three of us stroll into the formal dining room, which is what I picture the back room of a five star restaurant to be like, from the white table cloths, to the seating, wine glasses, and stale but ritzy feeling.
“Where are your parents?” I ask nervously sticking my hands in my dress pants pockets. The only pair of dress pants I own. Didn't feel the need for them when Gianna assured me they would come in handy. I figured maybe for a job interview not for a relationship one.
“Upstairs,” she sighs adjusting MaKayla on her hip. “Arguing.”
“About?
“Who cares,” her answer should've been predicted. They barely acknowledge their daughter exists any more. Not once has she mentioned them complaining she doesn't come home or about her sneaking out before school starts. According to her they are just thankful she's keeping their name clean this time. “Probably nothing important. You know, why dad spent the night downtown on his 'day off' or why mom spent 400 dollars on brunch if she went by herself. Heaven forbid they argue about why their daughter decided she wanted to go to college in the city instead of out of state or how I decided that photography would be a better career path for me than being a doctor.”
“You wanted to be a doctor?”
“Never,” she answers quickly. “But they thought it would be a good idea if I took classes that direction and eventually met the right people. My father lives by many rules, but the golden one is, always ask 'What can this person do for me'?”
“That seems...cynical. Manipulative.”
“You don't make millions by asking how they take their tea,” her snide remark churns my stomach.
Footsteps suddenly approach, which causes us to turn around to see a butler entering the room.
“Good evening, my name is John, and I’ll be taking care of you this evening. Can I get you a drink while you wait to be seated for dinner?” He asks as if we were in an actual restaurant.
“Yes please. Just a water for me and some sort of juice for her.” I casually point to Mak who is playing with the necklace around Gianna's neck.
Politely he questions in return. “Of course sir. What sort of juice would you like?”
“What do you have?”
“Apple, orange, cranberry, pineapple, and grape. We also have a variety of those that can be freshly made from scratch if you would prefer.”
“Apple please,” Mak squeals as Gianna bats at her little hands to make her giggle.
“And a booster chair please,” Gianna instructs kissing her cheek at the same time my daughter begs to explore the castle.
“And what would you like to drink Ms. Gianna?”
“Waters fine for me as well,” she answers letting Mak slide down her body. Still holding onto her hand. “Come on you two. I'll give you the tour.”
Mak wiggles her fingers at me. “Come on Daddy! I wanna see if she has a dragon!”
Grabbing my daughter's free hand I sigh, “I doubt she has a dragon.”
With a sneaky smirk Gianna says, “But you don't really know do you...”
I roll my eyes as the three of us wander off to see the place she rarely ever calls home.
We're gone longer than expected between Mak's million questions and Gianna's desire to make out with me around corners and doors while Mak toyed with random objects to go along with songs she sang from various princess movies. Finally returning to the dining room, we see her parents standing with beverages in their hands. Her father a martini glass. Her mother an almost empty wine glass.
“There you are,” the woman who has obviously given Gianna her looks and body structure, sighs trying to smile. “We were beginning to think you changed your mind.”
“I was just showing them around to pass the time while you and dad finished your discussion.” In a swift motion she picks up my little girl. “Mom and Dad, this is MaKayla and Connor Owens.”
“Cecile.” Her mother extends a delicate hand at me. She’s only a size bigger than Gianna, with a short bobbed haircut, and a painted face to give a flaw free imagine that my girlfriend used to. Lately, she goes for an almost natural look unless we're going out to dinner and even then, it's just enough for her to feel comfortable. She's so beautiful without all the added crap on her face. However, looking at her mother now and knowing the model lifestyle she used to lead, it's no wonder why it's taking her so long to realize it. Someday she's gonna have to tell Mak about this girly shit. I just hope that she remembers that she's more beautiful without it and let's that be her guide in transitioning my daughter into that. Fuck. I'm not ready for that. No fucking way. Good thing that's light-years away. Eons.
“Pleasure,” I politely shake.
Less impressed by my presence is her 6'4, dark as midnight skinned, bald headed father. He holds out his large palm, “Donald.”
Firmly I shake, “Sir.”
“My name is MaKayla!” my daughter enters the conversation. “You have a castle! It's so big! It's bigger than all the ones in my movies and my coloring books. You're missing a dragon...”