by Alice Tribue
He looks over at me, and I give him a nod, a silent show of approval. Sometimes, I can’t believe how much he looks like me, he stands like me, the kid even sleeps like me. He still kills me with how cute he is.
Another pitch, he checks his swing, the ball was too low.
“Yeah! Good eye, Xander,” Em calls from the stands, and I fight back laughter. She kills me with how cute she is too. She cheers our boy on as if he’s playing game seven of the World Series, and I love it. He does too. He thrives under her attention. He looks for mine too, but with her, it’s different. That thing they say about moms and their sons being close is true. The bond those two share is special. I think the fact that she didn’t give birth to him only makes it stronger. Em treats Xander as if he’s a gift she was given, so she never takes it for granted, any of it. Every scrape of the knee, birthday, haircut, and swimming class is something to remember and cherish.
On the third pitch, Xander swings and connects with the ball, sending it flying then rolling through left field. He tosses the bat and runs to first base. Emelia screams and jumps in the stands the whole way there. When the umpire declares him safe, she cheers. “Way to go, Xander.”
Fucking nut. I shake my head in amusement. I think back to what my life was like ten or so years ago. I worked and fucked my way through many women until I met Keri. Then I just worked and fucked her, never really taking into account that she might someday want more. Never in my wildest dreams did I imagine she would one day give me a son.
As another batter gets on base, this time sending Xander flying past second base and sliding into third, I think of the moment I found out she was pregnant. I was so angry with her, so stupid and cocky and arrogant. I couldn’t see that she was handing me the whole world. She gave me the first real love of my life, and I came dangerously close to throwing that away.
When Xander comes barreling into home plate, I no longer care if it’s considered favoritism or not. I’m so fucking proud of him—not of the fact that he’s scored a run, but of the mere fact that he exists. I’m proud that he’s mine and that he loves me, that he allows me to love him, and I too find myself, much like Emelia, cherishing a moment. His foot lands on base and as the umpire calls, “Safe,” he tosses his helmet and runs straight to me. I fall to a knee and catch him just in time, pulling him to my chest and holding him close.
“Good job, bud,” I tell him trying like hell not to get choked up.
“Thanks, Dad,” he replies in his little guy voice, and I swear I wish I could hold him like this and never let him go.
“Go on into the dugout, bud, and get ready to take the field again.”
“Okay,” he says, pulling back, turning, and on little legs, running back into the dugout. I look up, and I see Emelia, her glassy eyes on me. She mouths, I love you, and I tip my chin up at her. Yeah. I’m a lucky son of a bitch, I tell myself before turning my attention back to the game.
“What are you doing?” I ask Em while I pay for our ice cream. The team won the game, and as a prize, we decide to take the kids out for ice cream. Parents and kids are running around everywhere, and Em has one ear on her cell phone as she keeps an eye on Xander, who’s playing with some of his friends.
“Calling Mrs. Park to check on Sophie.”
I nod my head, grabbing my change and putting my wallet in the back pocket of my jeans. Emelia and I had a daughter a little over a year ago, and when I say this was a source of contention between us for a long time, I’m not kidding. I wanted a kid with her, deep down I really did, but after what I went through with Xander, having Keri die in the middle of childbirth, I wasn’t all too fired up to get Em pregnant. She even threatened to divorce me if I didn’t get my head out of my ass. Of course, I stuck to my guns, and Em took matters into her own hands, throwing her birth control pills down the toilet and telling me to deal.
Needless to say, her pregnancy and delivery were the longest nine months of my entire life, but thankfully, both she and Sophie were just fine.
“Mama.” Xander comes running toward us. Em disconnects her call, tosses her phone in her purse, and beams at our boy.
“Yeah, baby?”
“Chris’s parents are taking him to the beach next week. Can we do that?”
“Xander, we’re at the beach almost every week. I’m sure we can make an appearance.” She smiles down at him pushing the hair out of his face.
“Cool,” he says and moves to turn and run back to his friends. Her hand shoots out and grabs him by the shirt stopping him dead in his tracks. “What’s the matter?” he asks her, his eyes wide.
“Grab your ice cream from Dad first.”
He reaches a hand out to me and grabs his cone.
“Thanks, Dad,” he calls, already halfway to his friends.
“That’s your son,” Em, says smirking at me. She grabs her sundae, plants a kiss on my lips, and walks off so she can be closer to Xander and his friends. Always wanting to be close to him but not hovering. I follow her as I always do because I want to be wherever she is.
Emelia~
Eleven Years Later
I’ve been fighting back tears all day. I’m not winning the fight, but I’m fighting them back anyway. I leave Max getting dressed in the bedroom of the house that he built for us all those years ago. I can’t tell you how many times he’s offered to build me a new house, a bigger house, but I can’t seem to leave this place behind. We started our life together in this house. We’ve raised our babies in this house, and I can’t let it go. He updates things every few years so we can keep things looking nice and new, and the kitchen was remodeled last year. We’ve even been toying with the idea of an addition so it’ll be more comfortable when we have houseguests. Specifically, Hannah and her family and my mom and dad. It took me a long time to make amends with my mom after everything went down with Garrett. Max and she still hate each other, but they tolerate one another for me. She’s learned to be less of a snob in her old age.
I knock on Xander’s door, and he yells for me to come in. The kid’s room is spotless, always has been. He’s a neat freak, absolutely nothing like me.
“Hey, baby. I just wanted to check and see if you wanted any help.”
“I’m good, Mom. I’m just getting ready to go. I have to get to the school soon. It’s still okay if I use your car, right?”
“Yeah, it’s okay. I just wanted to give you this,” I say handing him a small box. “It’s from Dad and me.”
“Thanks.” He looks down at the box in his hands and goes to open it, but I put a hand on his, stopping him. His eyes come up to meet mine, and as I look into them, I can still see the baby I fell in love with all those years ago. I would do anything for him back then and that still holds true today.
“Before you open that, I just wanted to tell you something.”
“Okay?” He cocks his head to the side looking confused.
“I just wanted to tell you how proud Dad and I are of you.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He smiles at me, and I turn to walk away, but before I can think better of it, I turn back. “You know, the day I met you and your dad … that was the best day of my life,” I tell him unable to keep the tears at bay.
“Mom,” he says softly.
“I couldn’t have asked for a better son, not in a million years.” I close the distance between us and lift a hand to touch his cheek. “You’ve made every single day worth living, you’ve brought me so much joy, and I know that I’m not your biological mother …”
“You’re my mom,” he interrupts. “You’ve always been my mom. Biology doesn’t matter.”
“I know she’s with you, today … every day, and that’s okay. You should always carry those pieces of her with you.” I tilt my chin in the direction of the picture of Keri and Max that I placed on his nightstand years ago. “She would be so proud of you. Of who you are, of what an amazing man you’ve become, and so am I.”
“That means a lot to me.”
“I’m going to mis
s you so much when you go away.” I sob, losing all composure now.
“I’m going to a school less than an hour away. I’ll be home some weekends and we have the whole summer together. Mom, you have to relax.”
“Okay, okay, I know,” I say, wiping at the tears on my cheek. “I’m just so emotional today. Open your gift and cut me some slack, would you?”
He chuckles at me, pulling me in for a hug and placing a kiss on my forehead. When I pull away, I know Max is here. I look back and he’s leaning in the doorway arms crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankle. Sexy as always. Xander plops on his bed and unwraps the box that I gave him.
“Mom and I thought you should drive your own car to graduation, bud,” Max says behind me just as Xander pulls out the keys to his new car.
“Are you serious?” he says, looking back and forth between us in wonder.
Max gives him a slow nod, the corner of his mouth tipped up, clearly fighting back a smile. “You’ve proven that you can be trusted, so yeah, we’re serious.”
“Holy shit,” he whispers then jumps up and runs to his window. I’d tell him not to curse, but he’s eighteen and with Max throwing foul language around all the time, it would just fall on deaf ears. “You got me a car?” he asks, already knowing the answer to the question. We had told him we weren’t going to buy him a new car, that he would have to work for it and save up his own money. Clearly, we lied.
“I can’t believe you guys,” he says, heading back to me and engulfing me in his not so little boy arms. I’m not going to cry, I’m not going to cry, I chant. He kisses my cheek and goes to his dad, giving him a hug as well.
“I’m gonna go. Is it okay if I go?” he asks excitedly.
“Yeah,” Max says, giving him a pat on the back. “Drive careful, okay? A new car doesn’t give you permission to drive like an ass.”
“All right, Dad,” he calls as he disappears down the hall. I hear his footfalls running down the stairs and his voice as he calls, See you later, Sophie to his sister.
“You about done crying, Em,” Max asks with a smirk on his face.
“Oh, like you weren’t getting emotional this morning when he told you he was majoring in business so he can help you run your company one day.”
“Whatever.” He pulls me to him, tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and whispers, “I can still take you over my knee if you keep being a smartass, you know.”
I feel his words everywhere. God, he’s good at turning me on, always has been, and I have no doubt he always will be.
“Come on, old man, we have a graduation to get to.”
We finish getting ready and Max, Sophie, and I climb into the car to go and watch our boy graduate from high school. This is a bittersweet moment for me. I can take pride in the fact that I had a part in raising this beautiful baby into a handsome man. A long time ago, I told Max that I wanted to make sure that Xander would grow up to be the happiest little boy in the whole world. It was supposed to be the thing that we did for him but also for Keri. We’ve done that, and I know she’s looking down on us, and she’s happy with how we raised her little boy.
Xander~
Twelve Years Later
“Thanks for letting me get ready here, Mom. Chloe and her crew have taken over our house,” I say, grabbing a cookie from the table and taking a bite.
“You don’t have to thank me. This is your house too. You know that,” Mom says, taking a cookie too. “So we both know I get emotional often so rather than stand here and cry, I’m just going to tell you that I’m really happy that you and Chloe found each other. I’m so proud of you, as always, and I’ll probably cry my eyes out when we dance later.”
God, my mom is the best. She met my dad when I was just a few days old, after my real mom died giving birth to me. Dad didn’t know what he was going to do on his own with a baby and then he met mom. I never felt like something was missing in my life, and I never felt like she was a substitute or someone who was trying to take my real mom's place. She’s been there for everything—every event, every milestone, even the times I’ve gotten in trouble, which there were a few of. But I know she gets emotional because there are times she feels bad that my real mom isn’t here, or because she thinks that I wish she were here.
I’m not going to lie, it would have been nice to have her around, to have them both, but it didn’t work out like that. At times, I feel bad that my real mom lost her life by giving me life, but I know that I’m lucky to have gotten the mom that raised me. The first chance she got, she adopted me, making sure that I was legally her son. She was the first woman I ever loved, and she and Dad taught me what that is, what love really means, all the things I want to give to Chloe.
“You should know something,” I say, leaning against the counter.
“What?”
“When I dance with you tonight, you should know that there’s no one else I would rather be dancing with.”
“You don’t have to say that.”
“I do because it’s true. I carry her with me, and I know she’s with me, Mom, because you and Dad have given her to me all my life. You made sure I knew her, but when all is said and done, you’re my mom,” I tell her. I watch with a small amount of humor as she loses her battle with the tears and I pull her to me for a hug.
“You’re such a nut, Mom,” I whisper into her ear.
“I know,” she replies through her sobs. “Okay, go. Go get ready. Your dad wants to see you before you do, though. I think he’s in your old room.”
I kiss her forehead and head upstairs in search of my dad. Like she said, I find him in my room, standing up, staring out the window.
“Dad?”
“Hey, bud,” he says, angling his head toward me.
“Mom said you wanted to see me.”
“Yeah.” He lets out a sigh and pushes away from the window, heading over to me and stopping a few feet away. “I’m not sure if you know this or not, but when you were born and I realized that I was on my own with a kid, I actually contemplated giving you up for adoption.”
I chuckle because I’ve heard this story from Mom before.
“Yeah. What changed your mind?”
“A lot of things, but Em telling me I was a selfish prick helped. Realizing that Keri sacrificed her life for you and I needed to step up and do right by you, and this,” he says pushing a piece of paper in my direction.
“What is this?” I ask taking it from him.
“It’s a letter that Keri wrote to you while she was pregnant. I held on to it, always looking for the right time to give it to you, not wanting to upset you when you were a kid, and the time never seemed right.”
My heart starts to pound double time in my chest. A letter from the woman who gave birth to me, the woman who would have raised me if she’d had the chance. Something is both scary and thrilling about the thought of reading her words to me.
“Well, what’s it say?”
“If you ever wondered what kind of mother she would have been to you, it’s in that letter, Xander. She loved you very much, and if you think it might upset you, you don’t have to read it now. You can hold onto it and read it whenever you’re ready.”
“No. I want to read it now,” I tell him, sitting on the bed and unfolding the letter. The first thing I notice is that she had nice handwriting. It’s strange to hold something that I know she wrote, something that was meant for me. I take a deep breath and begin to read.
Dear Xander,
I wanted to write you this letter so that you would know what it was like and how I felt prior to your arrival. From the minute that I found out you were coming, I knew I had to let you know how much I love you. I knew that I would spend the rest of my life showing you and telling you how much you mean to me. I’ve never been this happy in my entire life because I’ve always known something was missing. A part of me that wasn’t completely full until the minute I found out about you. I’m so excited for the day that I finally get to hold you in my arms.
My heart is filled with so much joy and anticipation for what the future will hold. Halloween costumes and pumpkin picking. Christmas tree decorating and letters to Santa. Easter egg hunts, birthdays, and lots of sports. I promise to do the best I can to give you all of those things and more. You and I will be a family. We’ll always be a family and nothing and no one can ever change that.
So no matter what happens in your life, no matter how many failures or how much success you achieve, I want you to always know how important you are. It doesn’t matter if we’re together or apart; my love for you will keep us connected forever. I never believed in miracles until I found out about you. Now, I believe.
I love you,
Mom
Shit. I stare at the letter for a few moments and my nose stings with the burn of unshed tears. I didn’t think it would make me emotional to read this, but it does. Taking it all in—what she must have been like, what she felt for me, and how badly she wanted me.
“Did she ever get to hold me?” I ask Dad. I don’t know why I ask, but I do. Maybe because I think at least she would have gotten something that she wanted before she lost her life.
“No, bud. She didn’t get to hold you. But you shouldn’t feel bad about that, just be happy. She wanted you to be happy and that’s all that matters. Em and I …”
“You made me happy. You could have gone with your first instinct and given me up, or worse, kept me and did a shitty job at raising me like your dad did to you, but instead, you gave me everything.”
“You trying to make your old man cry?”
“No. Just trying to tell my dad that I love him.”
“Love you too,” he says pulling me in for a hug and patting me on the back. “I’ll let you get ready now. We have to get you to the church in less than an hour.”