Simmer

by Stephanie Rose

She gulped as she brought her eyes to the ceiling. Her chin quivered, her face was soaked, and I had zero clue how to read any of it.

  “Sara,” I pressed, now scared to death she was thinking of a way to turn me down.

  “Yes. Of course, yes. You really thought I would say no?” She shook her head at me. “You . . . you’re my everything.” She threaded her fingers through my hair. “My reason and my purpose along with Victoria. You made the impossible possible. You changed my life and gave me a better one than I ever could have imagined. So yes, I’ll marry you.” She wiped a tear away with her knuckle.

  I slipped the ring on her finger before I stood and took her mouth in a hungry, brutal, and relieved-as-fuck kiss.

  “Can we do this soon?” I murmured as she backed me out of the kitchen and toward the hallway leading into our bedroom. “I can’t wait that long.”

  She pulled back, a wide smile lighting up her entire face; the smile that captured me and never let me go.

  “Monday too soon?”

  Sara ~ Five years later

  “THIS PLACE IS packed!” Aida gushed as we stole a glance out of the tiny glass window on the kitchen door.

  “It sure is,” I marveled, equal parts excited and exhausted. It wasn’t unusual to be this packed on a Saturday night, but now that I owned a share of the restaurant rather than just worked here, it was a wonder to behold. Paying customers demanding more, a long line of patrons waiting to get in. Dollar signs and hearts clouded my ecstatic gaze.

  Although I fought her tooth and nail, Denise split the money with me when she sold the house and moved to Florida. I hated the thought of her leaving—especially after I’d just gotten her back—but the distance didn’t hinder our bond. We spoke all the time and visited each other a couple of times per year. She needed to get away from the ghosts that held her back, and as I dealt with the same specters at times, I couldn’t say I blamed her.

  Parking the money into a savings account, I refused to touch it for a few years. I was well paid at Blystone, moving up to chef after only a couple of years and didn’t need what I considered a consolation prize from my parents. I didn’t want their help then and I wouldn’t accept it now.

  George was the sweetest restaurant owner I’d ever known, and in my previous life I’d met a slew. He was smart and kind and simply a good man, why all of his employees rallied to take on more when his health deteriorated. He’d let Aida manage most things for the past year, but when he called us both into his office a couple of months ago, I was sure it was to inform us he was closing. Instead, he offered to sell a piece of the restaurant to both Aida and me. He still wished to be a partner but was ready for retirement and over the day to day. I refused at first, as I believed Aida deserved a greater share, but he insisted, saying that no one cared more about the success of his baby than I did. I couldn’t disagree, and as of yesterday, I was a signed and sealed co-owner of a successful Manhattan restaurant.

  To celebrate the first night of ownership, I was observing, not cooking for a change. Even though I took great joy in directing the kitchen, it was nice to sit back and watch patrons enjoy what I created. Josh and Brianna came to celebrate with us. Somehow—and against all odds—we became a happy, extended family. My daughter was growing up with an abundance of love and wouldn’t have the same issues her mother and her aunt still fought against. Even more than the restaurant, I considered that my greatest success—even if it entailed accepting help. Despite how my husband teased me, I was almost easy going these days. Almost.

  “I’ll take a look outside. Be back in a minute.” I squeezed Aida’s arm and headed to the dining area.

  Drew and Victoria were seated with Josh and Brianna in the large corner booth. Their son, Chris, had just turned two and fidgeted on Brianna’s lap as I approached.

  “Hey, Mom, still need me to give out the menus?” My daughter offered as she slid out of the booth. She was itching for a job at the restaurant ever since I’d told her I was an owner, and for a couple of hours I let her hand out menus when guests were seated tonight. She was about to turn fifteen and was almost my height. Victoria looked much older than she was, and each time a male glanced for more than two seconds in her direction, Drew and Josh were ready to pounce. Brianna and I shared a ton of eye rolls as this poor girl had an uphill battle if she ever dared to bring a boy to either of her homes.

  “I think the rush is over, but I’ll let you know. Thank you.” I brushed her thick caramel hair over her shoulder and kissed her forehead.

  “Maybe I could do something else . . . you seem tired.”

  I cocked my head as I soaked in my daughter’s concern.

  “I’m fine. Everything is great and all under control.”

  “Sure.” My husband scoffed as he came behind me and drifted his hand over my swollen belly. “Because you aren’t eight months pregnant or anything. Take a break, Kostas,” he scolded with a clenched jaw.

  “I don’t need a break.” I held in a groan at my husband’s frequent hovering and forced a smile. “As I just said, I’m fine.”

  “When was the last time you sat down? You’re the boss now, so why don’t you goof off for a little bit.” He nodded to his now vacant seat and nudged me onto the cushion.

  I exhaled in defeat, hiding my wince from Drew. My feet were swollen and killing me. I didn’t remember tiny things taking so much effort when I was pregnant with Victoria. But I was much younger back then, and never took it easy because . . . I couldn’t. Drew opened his own company with Carlos and Brian a year ago and his hours were flexible. Lately, most of his hours involved loitering at one of our tables with his laptop, watching me like a hawk. I loved him from the deepest depths of my soul, but I would throat punch him soon if he didn’t stop treating me like a china doll about to fall and break.

  “Excuse me.” One of my long-time customers came over to our table with his teenage son. Lucas was a business lunch regular but never came in with his children before. This young man shared the same piercing blue eyes and sandy brown hair. It was too much of an identical resemblance to not be Lucas’s kid. “I’m sorry to bother you, Sara. We haven’t gotten a menu yet, and this one is always hungry.” He laughed and motioned behind him where the handsome boy of, I guessed, sixteen or seventeen offered a sheepish smile—until he spotted Victoria over my shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Lucas.” I rolled to a standing position and nodded to the front. “It’s a little busy but I apologize for the wait. I’ll pick them up for you.”

  “I’ll get them!” my daughter offered before bolting out of the booth.

  “Thank you,” the boy replied for his father before ambling toward Victoria with a wide grin. “I’m Joey. You are?”

  “Fourteen!” Josh and Drew answered in unison with the same menacing glare.

  “You don’t need my daughter’s name. Have a nice dinner,” Josh clipped as all the blood drained out of this poor kid’s face.

  “Sorry,” I mouthed to Lucas who, thankfully, gave me a knowing smirk before heading back to his table.

  Victoria huffed at her father before heading to the front to pick up the menus.

  “I need to be scarier,” Drew lamented as he stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Josh has the whole ink thing going for him.” He nodded toward Josh, now trying to get Chris to sit still on his lap.

  “The little guy has some, too,” Brianna laughed as she turned Chris’s arm over, showing multi-colored scribbles on his pudgy arms. “He wants to be just like Daddy. Washable markers, my ass.” Chris splayed his chubby hand on his mother’s cheek and shot her a heart-melting-toddler grin, reducing Brianna to nothing but a puddle on the seat.

  Laughing at the frown on my husband’s face, I rubbed his shoulder. “Remember Aaron? When you picked me up on my last day at my internship, he almost pissed himself. You’ll be fine.” I kissed his cheek.

  “Yeah, but . . .” He rubbed my belly with a frustrated sigh. “I need to be better. It’s hard having daughters knowing how b
oys like that,” he tilted his head to Lucas’s son, stiff in his chair and most likely terrified to turn around, “think because you were the same kind of asshole.”

  “Tell me about it,” Josh grumbled as he bounced his son on his knee.

  “It’s a girl! I didn’t know you were finding out!” Brianna squealed with her hands folded.

  “Yep,” Drew wrapped his other arm around my middle. “I’m completely outnumbered. Even the dog is a girl.”

  “And you love every single second.” I elbowed his stomach but fell back when a strong kick followed by a blinding cramp shot across my abdomen.

  “What’s wrong?” Drew stepped back, clutching my shoulders in a panic. “You don’t look so good.”

  “I’m fine.” I waved him off. “This one is a kicker. I don’t remember if Victoria was one—ow!” I clutched the edge of the booth in mind-numbing pain. Two more kicks were followed by a horrid cramping of the entire lower half of my body that set off my own panic. It was too soon; she wasn’t due for another three weeks. We didn’t even have a name yet.

  “We’re leaving.” Drew grabbed his jacket. “Victoria can go home with Josh and Brianna.”

  “Wait, maybe it’s just Braxton Hicks or whatever. It’s too soon for—fuck!” Another contraction hit me so hard, I tumbled over, unable to straighten without Drew’s help.

  “They’ll tell Aida you left. I’m not playing, Sara. Let’s go.” I kept my mouth closed and waddled beside him as he led me outside, as this was the one time my husband’s overprotective alpha ways were a comfort not a nuisance.

  “I’m scared,” I whispered when he piled me into the front seat of the car, lifting my legs because pain hindered every move I made below the waist.

  “What do I always say? I’ve got you. Both of you.” He leaned over and kissed my lips. “Everything is going to be fine. Relax, Gorgeous.” Drew massaged the back of my neck and gave me a wide smile.

  “Okay,” I panted out, wishing I didn’t blow off those breathing classes as bullshit. “I trust you.”

  Drew

  I was fucking terrified.

  I thought we had at least three more weeks. Sara’s age made this a high-risk pregnancy, so we played everything as cautious as could be. I knew she wanted to punch me in the junk at times for hovering, but that never stopped me. She was too important. They were too important. I wasn’t leaving a thing to chance, although chance was laughing its ass off at us right now.

  “My wife is having contractions. She needs a doctor,” I blurted to the emergency room clerk as Sara folded into my side. The contractions were coming fast and furious.

  “What’s her name? I need your insurance card.”

  Cursing under my breath, I dug into my wallet and fished out the card. “Sara Kostas. Dr. Rodriguez is her doctor and we already called to let her know we were coming. Can someone please take her in?” I was past the point of pretending to be calm.

  “Have a seat, sir.” The clerk’s gum snapped as she nodded to the waiting area with her chin.

  “Have a seat? Are you fucking kidding me?” I took a leap forward, ready to pounce through the plexiglass separating us.

  “Stop it,” Sara whispered as she pulled me away. “I’d like to not have my husband hauled off by security. Let’s sit without the ruckus, okay?” Her words were strained from pain, only adding to the terror pulsating in my chest. They had five minutes to call us in before I lost it.

  “This is my fault,” Sara sniffled as she eased into a seat.

  “What is, the baby? I was there too, Gorgeous. Not all your fault.” I smiled, willing myself to calm down and not add to her distress.

  “I worked until almost the hour I had Victoria. I had contractions almost my whole shift and only left a half hour before it ended. When I made it to the ER, I was still in my waitress’s uniform. Now, at the age I am, I should’ve taken more precautions and I didn’t. I felt tiny cramps earlier but ignored it. I didn’t think and now what if she’s—”

  “She’s fine, you’re fine,” I said as evenly as I could while offering that statement up as a prayer. “You’re a little woman with a lot of baby.” I glided my hand across the swell of her stomach, almost hoping my daughter would sense me and calm down. “I’m sure you’ve had little cramps and pains here and there for weeks; you can’t beat yourself up for that.” I cupped her cheek and kissed her lips.

  “You’re all right, Kostas.” A laugh bubbled out through her watery smile.

  “Right back at you, Kostas. And they have four more minutes before I make a ruckus look like a kid’s cartoon.”

  “I love how you take care of me. Of us. This baby is a lucky little girl.”

  “Mmm, I don’t know.” The side of my mouth tipped up into a smirk. “Not sure if you loved it so much the past couple of weeks.”

  “Maybe,” she panted as she leaned forward. “But you were right, I should’ve been taking it easy. Aggravating, but right.”

  “Unfortunately, that’s not something I can stop. You’re stubborn as hell and maybe sometimes I overdo it, but I love you too much. If anything ever happened to you, I . . .” I stopped, as I was already on the borderline of going apeshit on the ER clerk for not moving fast enough. “There’s no me without you. So, I’ll always be the pain in the ass, overprotective husband and father. Sorry.” I patted her stomach and dipped my head to whisper. “Sorry, baby girl. Daddy is a little nuts.”

  Her head fell against my shoulder. “What would I do without you?”

  I kissed the top of her forehead and rubbed her back. “Good thing you never have to find out.”

  Sara

  What we were assured was routine labor turned into an emergency C-section. I was wheeled into the OR after the baby’s heart rate fluctuated as the contractions intensified. When they finally got her out, the little troublemaker had the cord wrapped around her neck—twice. When they laid her on my chest, her big eyes shining at me with innocence, I had the feeling this one would keep us on our toes for a lifetime.

  “She needs a name,” Drew whispered as his fingers sifted through her silky swath of black hair after we were rolled into a room. The birth of our baby was the first time I’d witnessed my husband left without words. He stared at her in awe from the second she came out.

  “She looks like you. The big eyes and the dark hair.” I threaded my fingers through the thick locks on the back of his neck. She even had the same sweet but sneaky curl in her lip.

  “You’re never dating anyone—ever. Isn’t that right, Princess?” Drew’s thumb drifted back and forth over her chubby cheek as the perfect name popped into my head.

  “Diana.”

  His weary head perked up. “Diana? For her name?”

  “You know my royal family obsession.” I laughed as I cuddled her into my chest. “And wasn’t that Wonder Woman’s real name?”

  He lifted a tired eyebrow at me. “I’m impressed you know that.”

  “Funny. Want to take her for a minute?”

  A grin split his mouth before he scooped her out of my arms. When Victoria was born, no one else held her in the hospital besides the nurses. Tears flooded my eyes at all the love this baby already had.

  Drew walked her over to the window, kissing the top of her head and whispering in her ear. I had happy memories with Victoria as a baby, but even the best ones were sad because I was alone. Joy is always better when you can share it and sharing everything with Drew made life wonderful.

  I’d teach both of my daughters they didn’t need a prince to swoop in and save them, but when a real one came into their lives, appreciate it for the wonderful blessing it is—and make damn sure not to let him go.

  The End

  Turn the page for a preview of Rewrite, Josh and Brianna’s story.

  Brianna

  THEY SAY WHEN you meet the love of your life, it’s a day you’ll never forget. Your soul sings and your body hums, all because you “know.” That innate instinct telling you, you finally found yo
ur person. Maybe it’s a look of longing across a crowded bar. Or the gasped breath you take as you slide into your seat in class next to the man of your dreams. That thunderbolt could hit you anywhere, at any time. The lightning singes you to your core where you stand, and there’s no going back.

  The thunderbolt found me in Mrs. Ruiz’s kindergarten class. I met the love of my life when I was five years old. Before I knew about romance, lust, and words to love songs that are supposed to describe that “feeling.”

  All I knew was that Josh Falco was my everything. Maybe I didn’t know what to call it at the time, but from the beginning, it was love.

  Believe it or not, I remembered the day I met Josh, even at that young age. Maybe not every little detail. I remembered the twinge of dread in the pit of my stomach knowing the girls who picked on me so mercilessly that summer would be in my class. I was klutzy and chunky, an unfortunate combination that screamed “bully me!” Humiliation and intimidation are traumas you never forget, no matter how old you are. I learned early on that the mean people were everywhere and tended to always have control of the room.

  I remembered keeping my chin stuck to my chest most of the day, not wanting to find out if the giggles behind me were about me. Playtime was the best part of the day. When the kids scattered, I was still solo, but I found the most beautiful set of blocks. They were pink and purple and so pretty. I built my own princess castle, securing it with the crystal star block at the top. I pretended it was a moon or sun. My own little kingdom, until a fist made it come crashing down.

  “Baby girl blocks! Brianna’s a baby!” Vinny Parker, my next-door neighbor, cackled as I glared at him through my unshed tears. He didn’t discriminate. He was just a bully—plain and simple.

  It was the only fun I’d had all day, and the only time I smiled since I trudged into the classroom. My face burned as hot tears trickled down my cheeks. Why didn’t anyone want to be my friend? I couldn’t understand it. I buried my face in my hands and wished I could disappear.