by Xavier Neal
“Neither of them should be here.” In a low grumble he demands, eyes on mine, “Get out.”
My eyes stay planted in his. “Cecile, could you please take Mak to get a snack from the cafeteria while I have a word with Donald.”
“Brilliant idea,” he agrees glancing at his wife.
“Mak, would you like to go get some ice cream with me before Gianna wakes up?” Cecile offers.
“Yeah!” She hops out of the chair. “Chocolate.”
“Sounds good,” the two of them exit the room on a fit of giggles from my daughter who is trying to weasel her way into sprinkles on the desert.
The moment we're alone he opens his mouth, “You--”
“No.” I cut him off immediately. “You listen. Last time we spoke I let you do all the talking. I understand your concern. I have a daughter of my own. No man in this world will ever be good enough for her, whether rich or poor, smart or dumb, attractive or not. He will never measure up. It's just a fact. When you love your daughter that much, it's just the reality, which is why I will never be good enough for Gianna to you.”
He slides a hand in his pocket not replying.
“But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop trying. That doesn't mean I won't spend every day for however long I have with her, pushing myself to be good enough. Aiming to be the man she deserves to have around just like I know she'll push herself to be the woman I want around me and my daughter. There's a good chance I'll never make the kind of money you do.”
“More than a chance.”
“I'm okay with that because money doesn't buy you happiness. I would rather be dirt poor for the rest of my life than let money turn me into the monster you've become. The man that let's his only child feel unloved.”
“You have no right--”
“He's right dad,” Gianna's groggy voice joins the conversation. “And I would rather spend the rest of my life in a tiny cramped apartment, working two jobs,
living pay check to pay check with people who love me and look forward to being in my life every day, then spend it in the hell you call a home.”
Sharply he snaps, “Gianna. You're clearly still delusional.”
“I'm not.” She shakes her head. “And make no mistake father, if Connor and I can work this out, and I believe we can, that's it. There's nothing you can do or say to change my mind. Take away my inheritance. Kick me out. Disown me, but never, never question if we love each other because here it is Dad. Proof as he stands in my hospital room, at the foot of my bed, arguing for a chance to love me, the only other man I've ever wanted to love me.”
“That's absurd,” he hisses. “You know I care about you.”
“Do I?” Gianna coughs. “When’s the last time before this you noticed anything I did right? You've spent so much time being angry with me about the career I almost cost you, you haven't stopped to see I've really changed this time. That I've been trying to be better. To make better choices. To be good for once in my life. All I've ever wanted since I got out of rehab was for you to be proud of me. To love me for me...”
“Gianna I...” his defense seems to slip away from him. “But I thought if I gave you everything--”
“It's not about what your money can give her Donald. It's about what it can't.” I step into the conversation. “And I may never be able to provide her a lifestyle you approve of, but you can bet every last dollar of your millions, she'll never question a day in my life how much I love her. How much I need her.”
Donald's lip press firmly together in thought. After clearing his throat, he lets his eyes land on his daughter. “When you're out of here, we need to talk. About this. About us. About everything. You're my daughter and if you're going to act like it, the least I can do is act like your father.”
“Or just be my father. No need to act like it.” Gianna corrects easing her body up as the nurse enters the room.
She asks me to step in the hallway to check her out. Impatiently I wait alone in the hallway, back resting on the wall on the other side of her room. She wants to fix this. We can fix this. Everything still has hope. Hope is enough for me.
A few minutes later the sound of Mak's voice echoes in the hallway, “I have a grandma. So you can be me grandmom. Or my mo-mo! Be my mo-mo!”
“Princess,” my voice warns. “Are you being nice?”
“Oh she's a doll,” Cecile compliments as Mak struts her way over to me munching on an ice cream cone. With a soft smile she says, “I like mo-mo.”
“Mo-Mo!” She squeals motioning her fingers for me to pick her up. Donald opens the door and Mak says, “That makes you Po-Po.”
“What?” His confusion makes her snicker.
“Po-Po why do you look sad? Is Mommy still sleeping?”
“No,” he answers and looks at Cecile. “She's awake. They'll be moving her in a couple hours to another room for overnight observation, but the doctors believe she will be fine. Starting Monday we're scheduling her therapy sessions again. We'll be making a few other changes, but that discussion is for another time.”
Mak hums between bites, “Can we see Mommy?”
“For a small period of time. And then she'll need to get some rest. Understand?”
“Yes Po-Po.” She smirks.
“Why does she keep calling me that?” His question is directed at me.
I give a shoulder shrug.
Cecile wraps her arms around his. “I'll explain while giving them a minute with her before I go in.”
“Thank you.” I nod before preparing to step into the room.
Donald stops me. “Connor.”
“Yes sir?”
“Don't ever hurt my little girl again? Understood?”
“Yes sir.” My answer allows me to enter her room again.
“Mommy!” Mak shouts.
“Princess!” Gianna squeaks back.
“You feel better? Your broken heart all better?”
The question raises Gianna's eyes to mine. “Did you tell her?”
“No. She thought of that all on her own,” I sheepishly reply.
“Daddy's good at fixing things. Let Daddy fix your broken heart okay? I wanna play. I've missed you Mommy!”
Softly I ask, “Mak can you give Mommy and Daddy just a few seconds to talk alone?”
“Okay,” she agrees. “Kisses first Mommy.” Leaning her over I let Mak kiss her on the lips and sigh, “Glad you're almost better.”
“Thank you.”
I put her down and instruct her to ask Mo-mo to watch her for a few minutes while we speak alone. With her head held high she stomps out and makes the announcement that we need to be alone to finish fixing her mommy's boo-boos.
The door shuts and Gianna sighs, “How could she have gotten so much bigger? I just saw her a couple weeks ago.”
“She grows fast. Too fast sometimes,” I softly reply. ”And how do you expect to keep watching her grow if you down a bottle of pills? I thought that was selfish shit before Gianna, but this..Mak's already lost one mother don't make her lose two.” A choking noise comes from her throat, her eyes filling with tears. “I want you in our lives as much as you wanna be here, but that little girl always comes first, even if that means I have to walk away from you again, which isn't what I want. But we can't survive losing you to something like suicide because you couldn't find a healthy way to deal with your pain. So before we keep talking, before sink or swim, swear to me you'll never put us in this position again. Any of us. Your parents and self included. Swear.”
In a choked sob she pleads, “I swear.”
“Good.” My hand folds with hers. “Because I love you and I don't think I could live without you. Trying to nearly killed me. And you. Gianna, I'm sorry for...for what happened, but I swear I was just doing what I thought was best for everyone. I thought letting you go would let you find the right guy with the right money and would stop Mak and I from getting hurt, but I was wrong. I was so wrong. I'm done making excuses though. I could tell you how I did what I did bec
ause of this and that but the simple truth is, I make my choices. That one wasn't right. Leaving you would never be right. So if we can, if you want to, I wanna...I wanna be like we were. Together. All three of us.”
“What about Ashley?”
“What about her?” My face scrunches. “She's never been a real factor. You are my daughter's mother if you'll still have us. And some day, very far away, when I hate her less and Mak can understand what's going on, we will make the choice what to do about her as a family. Together.” Her hand squeezes mine. “Everything is an ‘us’ decision from this point on. We talk about everything. Sadness. Sex. Sandcastles. All of it. We talk...together.”
“Yes.” Gianna nods tears falling. “Together.”
“Thank God.” I push my lips softly to hers, making sure not to loosen our hand hold. Dad was right. Faith will take you exactly where you wanna be if you let it. And there's no place I would rather be than here with this girl in my life.
Chapter 17
“Thanks again Nelly.” I wipe the sweat off my forehead, throwing the bag over my shoulder. “I mean, I can't take Gianna to prom, so I'm gonna use this extra cash to take her on a romantic dinner.”
“With a kid?” She skeptically looks at me from the porch, hands patting her stomach. “That's not romantic. I'll tell you what. I'll watch Mak while you two go grab something to eat, just the two of you.”
“Nelly I can't ask you to do that. You've already done too much for us.”
“You're not asking,” she corrects. “I volunteered. Now why don't you go grab a quick shower in the guest bathroom and you can just leave straight from here.”
“Thanks Nelly. I'll just chuck this and do that. Where is Mak now?”
“She and Victoria are having a tea party. You know how much my kids love her,” she coos.
“You know how much I love you.” I wink.
She giggles and tosses a hand at me. “Oh stop your flirting and go grab a shower.”
I chuckle and relocate the trash bags to the trash can before heading inside their two story house to the upstairs guest bath, my spare clothes in Mak's bag I carry around. I've learned from Gianna it's always wise to have a change of clothes handy for emergency situations. After a quick rinse off and scrub down in the shower, I hop out, wrapping the towel around my waist. In the months we've been together we've never just had a date the two of us, which is crazy. How many couples have never been on a date just the two of them? Not normal. Funny thing is...I wouldn't trade our abnormal relationship for one minute of anything else. There's something about everything that happens between us that just fits. And when the shoe fits who am I to complain?
Opening the bathroom door that connects to the guest room, I'm surprised when I don't see my bag on the bed any more. Damn it Mak. Always taking the entire thing instead of just what she needs from it. She calls it her purse and insists she has to have it by her all the time. If she wasn't the cutest thing in the world I think it might drive me crazy, but it makes her happy and is typically harmless so why object. Except now when I'm basically naked with nothing to throw on.
I crack the bedroom door and yell, “MaKayla Ashley bring Daddy back your purse!” Yeah. That sentence is one I'm glad my friends didn't hear me say. There would be no way to redeem myself from the embarrassment even though they are understanding.
Mak comes around the corner holding one of Nelly's hands. Confused I glance at Nelly's other hand that's gripping some sort of garment bag.
“Sorry Nelly, I'm not...” My head bobs around for the right word to say. Last thing I need is Mak repeating the word naked everywhere. “Decent.”
“I know,” she snickers. “I'm bringing you something to put on.”
Holding out the bag for me, I quickly read the word 'tux'. “That's not mine.”
“It is yours Daddy!” Mak claps her hands together. “You're going to the ball Daddy! You're going to the ball.”
“What ball?” I tilt my head at her and then look at Nelly. “What ball?”
“Pom!” Mak squeaks. “Your ball is called Pom!”
“Pom? You mean Prom?” Looking at Nelly I snap, “Does she mean Prom? What does she mean I'm going to prom? I'm not going to prom. I can't afford that. I can't--” “Can't. Can't. Can't,” Nelly mocks me and shoves the bag at me again. “It's not about can't Connor. It's about can. You should know that. You should've learned that much by now. Now put that on and meet us downstairs when you're done. Socks and shoes are at the bottom.”
I slide back in the room and toss the bag on the bed staring at it in disbelief. Gianna told me she had plans all afternoon, but I didn't think it was this. It shouldn't have been this. It's bad enough I can barely afford to take her to dinner, but the one thing as a senior I should be able to do for her, and I can't even afford it. The tickets for the two of us were a quarter of Mak's tuition. Unzipping the bag, there's a note waiting for me.
Connor,
You have been the man of this family long before you should've been. You've spent your life taking care of your father, of me, of Mak and you deserve a break, even if only for one night. Now, I know you because you're my son, so before you go off into a tantrum on how this money for a rental tux could've been better spent, remember money can be remade but memories like this can't. And you know who said that. So make your father proud and take his advice. Enjoy your prom.
We love you.
-Mom and Dad (in spirit)
Sinking onto the bed beside the tux I scrub my head with my hand. There are so many things she could've done with that money. So many better things. She just started working two jobs to help the household more. This could've been used for groceries. Gas. I glance at the note, certain words floating off the page, the sound of my father’s deep voice repeating them.
In a hushed voice I nod, “Money can be remade...memories can't.” With a swift look up at the heavens, where I know he's guiding me from I whisper, “Alright Dad. You win this time. Faith in you and your teachings have brought me this far, they won't fail me now.”
Once I'm changed, I jog down the stairs with my tie hanging undone. Seeing Nelly and Mak at the kitchen table eating cookie dough out of the bowl, I fuss, “Mak are you supposed to eat it out of the bowl?.”
“Mrs. Nelly says this is what it's for,” she explains before putting her whole hand in the bowl. “Cookies are in the oven.”
I shoot Nelly a look who rolls her eyes, “Oh let it go. She's fine. We're fine.” She pauses and looks at the tie. “Okay, you're not. Let me wash my hands and tie that.”
The sound of the kitchen sink starts at the same time Mak says, “Taste it Daddy!”
Leaning over I let her put a dot on my lips for me to lick away. “Mmm...tastes yummy. Maybe I should eat you. You taste delicious too don't you?”
“No Daddy!” She giggles. “I'm not food!”
With a smirk I turn around to Nelly who starts to tie my tie. “I want you to go and have fun. Don't worry about picking up Mak until tomorrow morning.”
“Nelly--”
“Sh.” She demands. “Now I got you a red corsage, so let's hope that girlfriend of yours is wearing something simple. Plan on picking Mak up at 11. We're having a girls day tomorrow morning, making pancakes and wearing our tiaras, so I don't want you to interrupt.”
“No tiara for you Daddy.” Mak waggles a finger at me.
“When'd you get so bossy,” I playfully fuss at her.
She smiles as she licks her fingers again.
“Be safe. Be smart. Most importantly...Have fun. Even you deserve that once in a while.” Nelly pats my chest. “Now, grab the flower out of the fridge and get going. Your ride is waiting.”
Touched by everything she's done for me today, every day, the understanding and compassion I needed from my mother, but hadn't been receiving has my jaw bobbing for something to say. The only thing I can decide on are two words that my dad always told me you could never say enough and when sprinkled with a genuine attitude, would
be enough.
“Thank you.”
With a wide smile she nods, “You're so welcome...”
I walk out and through the living room, around to the front door where I walk out to see a sight strong enough to make me say fuck prom and take her back to my apartment.
“God you're gorgeous,” the words are out of me before I can think of something clever.
Gianna spins around in her short black halter top cocktail dress. My eyes drink in her long legs on display in her black heels, her curves that have expanded to a healthier level than when we first met, her pinned up hair, but most importantly the alluring smile on her perfect face.
“You like?” She saunters over.
“I love.” My hands holding the corsage wrap around her waist. “You. And the outfit.”
Her hands pull at the jacket, “You clean up nice yourself.”
Immediately I open my mouth to explain to her how this isn't what I wanted. How I wanted to be the one to do something special for her. How I wanted to be the one to give her this moment.
“I know,” Gianna hums out. My head tilts to the side. “I know what you're thinking, but as long as you're the one I walk into my first prom with, that's all that matters. You could take me in your old converse and jeans and I would be just as happy. It's not about money Connor. You know this by now.”
“But still.”
“Let it go. We're gonna have enough problems with graduating, college scheduling, apartment hunting, and making sure to not neglect Mak through all of that. Let's not add an unnecessary problem to the mix.”
Knowing everything she said is the truth, I pull her into me a little tighter. “You're right.”
“Did you just tell me I was right Mr. Owens?”
“Don't let it go to your head. I'm paying for dinner. Wherever you wanna go. I don't care if it's gonna cost me 40 bucks or 400. Wherever you wanna go, we're going.”
“Fine!” Gianna caves and kisses me on the lips. “But just remember you said that when we get there...Come on.”
Gianna and I take the limo to a hole in the wall burger joint close to downtown where Prom is being held. She insists they have the best bacon cheeseburgers and she's right. We do our best not to get our attire dirty as we share chili cheese fries and milkshakes, enjoying laughs and stealing kisses between bites. Afterwards, we put on the flower things we're supposed to be bearing and take the limo to the hotel they are holding the event in. We spend the night dancing to old 90s music intertwined with radio hits that sound so much better when Mak isn't singing them.