Finding Opa!

by Nelson, Latrivia

  “Stacey Lane Bryant, would you do me the honor of please being my wife? I don’t want to live with you as anything less. I don’t want to be with my child temporarily. I don’t care about our families, our culture difference or our money. I see the woman that I want to spend the rest of my life with in front of me, and I know that there will never be anyone but you. You may not know me as well as you knew Drew, but I promise to you from this day forth, I will be an open book. I will be what you need, what you want.” He took a deep breath. The sweat ran from his neck down to his chest. Looking up at her, he smiled. “Let me fill his shoes. Let me walk beside you. Let me carry you when you are weary and uphold you and your dreams. Let me take away the loneliness and fill your days for the rest of your life with love. Let me be what I am meant to be…your husband.”

  Stacey was lost for words. Never had anything sounded so sweet. Finally breathing, she exhaled a deep breath. Wiping the tears from her face, she got off the bed and knelt with him. Taking his hand in hers, she put them to her face and kissed them.

  “Yes,” she said, completely in love. “Yes, I’ll be your wife.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  The clouds blanketed the early morning sky with deep hues of gray outside, but Stacey’s apartment was filled with sunshine. Greek music played on the radio in the kitchen as Hunter fixed breakfast for his soon-to-be bride while she cleaned the living room and separated the laundry to wash.

  Bliss. It was the only word that Hunter could use to describe his world when he woke that morning. It was the only word that he could use to describe the look that Stacey gave when she rolled over and opened her bright brown eyes to him. Bliss.

  Stacey dwelled in the same world as Hunter. Humming as she threw a load in the washing machine, she imagined a small wedding on a hill top with a small crowd of close friends and relatives. For the first time since she found out that she was pregnant, she thought about what their child would look like. It was all so surreal. She was actually about to marry again. Whirling around in the wash room with one of Hunter’s shirts, she hugged herself tightly and wondered if her mother could see her right then.

  “Hey,” Hunter said, sticking his head inside of the room. “Breakfast is ready.” His smile was endearing.

  “On the way,” she said, closing the door on the washer and putting down his shirt.

  Following him to the dining room, she noticed the drapes had been pulled back to see the morning sky and the waterway in the distance. A single rose had been placed inside of one of her Waterford crystal vases and a quick but customary Greek breakfast had been prepared of black tea sweetened with honey, feta cheese, olives, bread, a bowl of yogurt with honey and fresh fruit.

  Stacey knew that he had done all of this for her, because he didn’t really eat breakfast, even though it was the most important meal of the day.

  Pulling the seat out for her to sit down, he pushed her up to the table and placed a plum-colored napkin in her lap.

  “Thank you,” she said with a grin.

  “You’re welcome,” he said, taking his seat. With his newspaper beside him, he sat across from her and shook his head. “This is nice, huh? Having breakfast together like an old married couple.”

  “Well, we aren’t exactly spring chickens,” she said playfully.

  “Speak for yourself.” Fixing his plate, he looked over at her. “I want us to go and visit Corina’s gravesite today, if that’s okay with you.” He waited for her approval. Would this make her happy or put her off? He wasn’t sure.

  Stacey sipped her tea and added more honey before she spoke. “Are you ready to do that?” She looked up at him under heavy lashes.

  “I am,” he said softly. “I’m ready to move completely on, but I know that you’ve been on me about it. So, I thought that we could do it together.”

  He watched her face, clear of make-up, perfect and unblemished. Her bright eyes flashed with sincerity. “I’m honored. I’d love to.” Reaching her hand across the table, she grabbed his and smiled. “I’m proud of you.”

  “And maybe after that we could go to Tiffany’s and pick out a ring…a very special ring that you’ll wear for a few decades.”

  “Really?” Excitement quickly replaced any thoughts that were looming. “Oh, I think that sounds wonderful.” She had a surprise of her own. “I was also hoping that today we could go and see my old home…possibly our new house.”

  “Are you ready for that?” he asked with a furrowed brow. They had discussed briefly moving in together just a week before, and Stacey had given some resistance. But now that they were engaged, he gathered that she was very open to the idea.

  “For us to move in together?” She shook her head, swallowing hard.

  “Yes. I didn’t want to pressure you…” His voice faded.

  “It’s no pressure. I think if we got situated before all of this crazy stuff happens - the planning of the wedding, the baby, the marriage - we could see if there is any use for the house, or if we need to sell it.”

  Hunter knew that either choice would be a colossal step for her. “I think it’s a great idea,” he said, shocked. “Wow. We have a day planned for ourselves then.”

  “Yep.”

  Hunter tasted his food but quickly put down his fork. “You know, we don’t have to go tomorrow.”

  “Hunter, we’re going,” she said finally. She couldn’t believe that he was still worrying about his family. Where they that horrible? At least he had a family. The only person she had in the world was her father, and he was rarely sober.

  “Okay,” he said, giving in. “We’re going.” Smiling, he picked up his fork. “We should probably pray over this food.” Especially considering that tomorrow we’re walking into the depths of hell, he thought to himself. His face hid his concern, but his voice did not.

  Stacey ignored him all together and bowed her head. They were going to these people’s house and setting the record straight. Hunter Fourakis was hers now.

  ***

  The rain was still holding off by the time that they arrived at the graveyard. While streaks of lightning cut through the dark sky and the wind howled about them, for the most part, the day was pleasant. Just right for visiting.

  Hunter had called Hanna and gotten directions to Corina’s plot, and Stacey had brought flowers to lay in remembrance, but still Hunter felt uneasy. Sure, he had told Stacey he was ready, but inside he felt his body going to mush. With every step they made through the thick masses of manicured grass, he felt his legs growing weaker and weaker.

  Stacey looked over at him and noticed that he had gone completely pale as though at any minute he would either faint or throw up. Stopping, she turned to him and clutched his hand tight.

  “We don’t have to do this,” she assured him.

  “No, we have to,” he said, looking at the paper. He couldn’t bear to look into her eyes at the moment. It took everything in him to get this far. Any sympathy would just weaken him more. “It has to be right over here.” His voice quivered. Walking again, he let the wind push the tears that tried to fight their way out. Following the directions, he finally found her simple headstone on a row not from where they had stood. As they walked up to it, he knelt down on one knee.

  Corina Maria Fourakis. Beloved Wife, Loving Daughter and American Hero. To Hunter, the words didn’t quiet capture all that she was to the world. Putting his hand in his hair, he tried to calm his trembling body. The knowledge of what she had become in the box below made him lightheaded. The memory of how she had been burned and mangled made him sick.

  He tried to push he thoughts to the back of his mind to get through this. Finally looking up at her final resting place, he ran his hand over the smooth stone. Someone had obviously been taking care of her gravesite. Only, it had not been him as it should have been.

  Withered flowers sat in front and a card was placed beside it, wet from being exposed to the elements. It seemed to be such a lonely place, so solemn and depressing. Old people were
supposed to fill graveyards, not young beautiful doctors full of promise, denied of children and grandchildren.

  “I haven’t done such a good job, have I?” he asked aloud.

  Stacey wasn’t sure if he was talking to her or Corina. Still, she stood beside him with her hand on his shoulder. Leaning down, she placed the flowers in front of the head stone, then stood and rubbed his back.

  “Would you like a minute?” she asked.

  Hunter looked up at her, saw that she was in tears and felt instantly consoled. As promised, he wasn’t doing this alone. This magnificent woman had done so much for him that she didn’t have to do. Now this. He was eternally grateful. “I’d like to introduce you first,” he said, grabbing her hand. “Corina, this is my…angel,” he said of Stacey. He looked back at the headstone. “This is the woman who has helped me to live again, the future mother of my children and my future wife. I just wanted to bring her here to meet what is left of you, because I’m moving on. I probably won’t come back. I don’t see what use it will be, but I wanted you to meet her once, just the same. I wanted to let you know that I’m finally doing alright.”

  Stacey didn’t know what to say. There was obviously no need for any of her words. Kissing the crown of Hunter’s tousled copper-colored hair, she stood up and walked away.

  Stacey thought that in a situation as delicate at this everyone needed time alone. A few years ago, she was right where Hunter was, and she knew that seeing the person that he had loved and remembered so full of life buried six-feet in the earth was as final as things got. It was the nadir of mortality.

  She had buried Drew on a day much like today, under clouds and rain. She had worn widow’s black and cried a thousand tears. She had struggled with the whys that everyone had when their existence was suddenly and permanently altered. And finally years later, she had found strength to live again because of Hunter.

  Slipping her hands in the pockets of her jacket, she walked towards the car, never turning around. Yes, everyone needed a moment alone on this day.

  ***

  By the time that Hunter and Stacey made it to the rolling hills of the Beckman Heights luxury homes, it was nearing nightfall. Pulling up to her drive, she got out of the car and walked to the tall iron gate that surrounded her old home. Had it really been that big all the time?

  Staring at the large, bricked mansion illuminated by flood lights, she marveled at its size. She shook her head in disbelief. The memory could be a tricky thing. Stacey hadn’t been here in over two years. She had left this place after a serious breakdown that put her in the hospital for nearly a week after Drew’s death.

  Pulling her key from her pocket, she slipped it into the lock, pushed in the code to her security system and the gated swung open automatically. Hunter pulled up and let her jump inside before they drove up the long, dark drive to the mansion that awaited her.

  “It’s beautiful,” Hunter said, shocked at the size of it as well. He had inwardly half-heartedly expected a mansion, but this place was colossal.

  “Thanks,” Stacey said in a soft voice.

  She knew that it was a dramatic difference from her current home. This was her old life, what she used to be like when she was Drew’s wife. In a way, the extravagance of the place embarrassed her. She had become such a simple woman since then, such a far cry from what she used to be before she discovered the true value and meaning of life.

  They parked in the circular drive and made their way up the steps to the white double doors. Unlocking the door, she let Hunter go in first as he had previously insisted. After she turned off the alarm, she stood quietly in the foyer looking around her stately home as a wave of nostalgia hit her.

  “Care to give me a tour?” Hunter asked, after he had checked a few rooms to make sure that they were safe. He slipped his small handgun back into his jacket pocket and grabbed her hand.

  “If I can remember,” Stacey said with a grin.

  A maid had been paid to come in once a month and check on things and dust. All the furniture and pictures had been covered in white sheets. The marble and wood floors were still shining and bright. Everything was just the way that she had left it.

  The living and dining room were painted in eggshell white with white crown molding and expensive wooden maple-colored floors. The halls were painted in an elegant gray with white crown molding and dark marble floors. A grand crystal chandelier hung in the foyer that led up the alabaster spiral staircase to the second floor of the house. All the walls were lined with art from all over the world, speaking to their appreciation for culture.

  The sitting room was plum, just like Stacey’s condo with a black, baby grand piano and hundreds of old books in the build-in bookcases. The kitchen was a masterpiece with fine granite counter tops and floors, a large oak table, stainless steel appliances and beautiful paintings.

  Each and every room spoke to her intelligence, her grace and beauty. Each room told a story of hopes and dreams, of a life that was never allowed to play out.

  As they surveyed the old life of Dr. and Mrs. Drew Bryant, Hunter surmised that his future wife and her late husband were a social couple of great taste and prestige. He could see Stacey serving platters of Hors d'Oeuvres to politicians and scientists, authors and reporters alike in designer evening gowns and cocktail dresses that brought out the color of her chestnut-colored eyes and her silky brown skin. He could see her smile across a crowded room of elite to her loving husband as she talked to wives about her book and where she had purchased her newest pieces of art while Drew discussed the latest finds on Mars. He imagined that he knew the kind of life that she was used to, the life that the good doctor, Drew, had provided.

  As they walked up the staircase to the second floor, Stacey led him to the master bedroom. Surprisingly, it was the only room in the entire house that was completely empty. There was no bed, no lamps, no tables, no pictures. Instead, it was a large shell of a room with the potential to be absolutely breathtaking.

  It occurred to Hunter at that very moment how hard it must had been to make love to him the first time. Without asking, he knew that they had made love in the same bed that Stacey and Drew used to sleep in and make love in themselves. It had been the only thing that she had taken from this place.

  He walked over to her as she stood by the window, gazing out at the sprawling back lawn and looking lost. He knew that she was overwhelmed with emotions and memories that she had pushed to the back of her mind for many years.

  Pulling her to him, he lifted her chin and kissed her lips while holding the sides of her trembling arms. “It is beautiful,” he said, lovingly. “It really is…”

  “But…” she said, waiting for the rest of his statement. She knew Hunter Fourakis too well to expect anything less.

  “But I think we should consider making our own home somewhere else,” he said, turning back to look at the room once more. “This isn’t us.” Even in a whisper, his voice echoed.

  Stacey wiped the tears from her eyes. “I think that you’re right.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  The Fourakis home was rife with excitement as the women set the tables and caught up on their gossip, while the men gathered outside to finish the customary lamb. Bright sunny skies shined down on the impeccable Olson Sundberg residence on the shores of Lake Washington in Washington Park. With music playing in the background, kids running about outside and cars parked up and down the streets, the festivities were already underway by mid-afternoon for Mother’s Day.

  Stacey couldn’t believe that they lived so close to Hunter’s family. She had imagined a long drive up into the mountains or a community like her own outside of the city, but the Fourakis family lived right in the thick of things. They were evidently the last to arrive, or at least Stacey assumed so based upon the cars that had beat them there. As they pulled to the end of the long processional of vehicles, Hunter parked the car and checked the presents for his mother in the back.

  “We can still leave,” Hunte
r reminded her with a smile.

  “No, I want to do this,” Stacey said, opening her door.

  Hunter looked down at the large three-carat solitaire on her ring finger that she had picked from Tiffany’s the day before and felt pride warm his heart. It looked like it had been made for her finger. He couldn’t wait to see his family’s faces when they saw his fiancée’s engagement ring. It would shut them up for good.

  Grabbing the gifts, they walked up the street to the house, where a few people were standing outside on the porch. The men chattered loudly, laughing and joking until they saw the odd couple approaching; then suddenly they all were silent. Their eyes said what their mouths would not. Hunter had brought a black woman home.

  Stacey held her head up high despite their frowns. Dressed in an elegant pink silk wrap dress with her hair down and diamonds in her ears, she held on tightly to Hunter as he escorted her up the stairs, past his family.