A Breath of Innocence

by K. A. Merikan

  Allen looked down at the egg Griff had put into his hands, but then back at everyone else. “Is Mummy angry?”

  It was all too much for his little head, so Mark leaned over and stroked the curls which, just like his, wouldn’t stay flat. “No, it’s all good. Your mommy just needs some fresh air. But it’s all good, because I’m your dad, and I will see you very often.” Mark’s whole chest overflowed with joy when he got to say those words. He used to think he’d be happy enough to simply interact with Allen, but having the boy know who Mark was brought peace into Mark’s heart. All the important cards were finally on the table.

  Allen’s face was full of wonder, as if he’d just learnt the truth about the origins of the universe. And in a way, that was exactly what happened, only on a smaller scale. “My daddy?”

  Griffith took a deep breath and let a chocolate egg roll over the table as he pulled up Allen out of the baby chair. “Yes. Do you want to sit with your daddy?” he asked, slowly strolling along the emptied side of the table. It was a lovely gesture, but every step Griffith took made Mark more eager to take Allen for him. Griffith was holding the boy all wrong, as if he’d never handled him before.

  “Looks like it,” Mrs. Elswood said stiffly, watching Mark take Allen into his lap as if the gesture were a personal insult to her.

  The boy wrapped his arms around Mark’s neck and twisted his head to look at his grandparents. “Is this a present, Nan?” he squeed, melting Mark’s heart further.

  “Yes, and you get to keep me forever,” Mark said, holding the small body against his chest while his heart beat out of control.

  “That’s enough now, Allen,” Mr. Elswood said, watching the scene with a deep frown. It was beyond difficult to say what he was really thinking under the stoic exterior.

  Mark couldn’t even care anymore. “I know I’ve made it all complicated,” he said, slowly turning with Allen in his arms, so that he could see the Elswoods better. “But I do love your son, and I am Allen’s father. It’s as simple as that.”

  Griffith’s hands slid to Mark’s shoulders and squeezed them gently. And as often as Mark felt like Griffith’s protector, now he was grateful for this presence behind his back.

  Mr. Elswood exhaled. “Don’t think you won’t have to explain your actions.”

  His wife was closer to rolling her eyes than Mark had believed she could ever be. “Dear, can this not wait until Allen goes to sleep?”

  It must have struck a nerve, because Mr. Elswood actually pulled the napkin out of his lap and tossed it on the table. “Of course, my dear, because we are having such a marvelous time! What are we going to find out next? That he was the one to break the glass in Stephen’s door?”

  Mark felt a flush of heat on his nape, but Mr. Elswood must have only used that example as a rhetorical device, as he didn’t follow up.

  His wife rubbed her temple as if she were getting a headache.

  Mark kissed the top of Allen’s head. “I’m sorry Charlotte chose a moment like today, but I’m not sorry she admitted it. I want to be a part of his life.” He swallowed hard, but Griff’s touch was an infusion of strength. “In a few years, when we know each other well as family, I might even want shared custody.”

  Griffith’s fingers twitched on Mark’s shoulders, but he didn’t say anything, and a moment later, sank his chest down, pulling Mark into a tight hug.

  Mr. Elswood stayed silent, but he seemed to just process it all in resignation. Unlike the last time they’d met, there was no anger on his face.

  Mark took a deep breath, still in disbelief that he was holding an almost three-year-old child in his hands, and that Allen was his. Despite all the tension, the family drama at the table, he couldn’t have been happier. Griffith stood by him, Charlotte had admitted defeat, and even if this situation was far from perfect, he would be building a family of his own alongside Dom, Seth, and Angelica.

  Chapter 27 - Griffith

  Griffith was in that strange state between perfect happiness and fear that the bundle of nerves in his chest would explode and taint his mood for the remainder of his stay. A kid? A kid in his house? That wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined his early twenties, but then again, Mark did say ‘in the future’, so things could still change. For now, he chose to roll with it and sat in a wicker chair next to his dad while Mum and Mark helped Allen find all the eggs hidden in their garden. Despite the awkward silence, he chose to try relaxing as he watched the colorful flowers move with the breeze. The sun was gently caressing his skin, and as he listened to the soothing baritone in the distance, he simply let himself enjoy the moment.

  “So, how is it going?” Father finally asked, and it couldn’t have sounded any stiffer even if he’d swallowed a broom.

  Griffith smiled at him nevertheless, happy that for once Dad chose a neutral topic. “Quite good. The first days were difficult, but I enjoy standing on my own two feet.” When he said it out loud, he really did fill with pride, even if the gifts he could buy his family were meager in comparison to what he used to afford. What mattered was that he’d bought them with money he’d earned himself.

  Father grumbled something and had some more port. “And you still want to go to dance school or something of that sort?”

  Griffith swallowed hard and rubbed his hands on his thighs as his anxiety spiraled all the way to the ceiling. “Yes. I spend all my time off practising.”

  Father stayed silent for a while that made all the hairs on Griff’s arms bristle. “If you pass the exams, you can have the flat back. It has the dance room. Wouldn’t make sense for you to spend extra money on that. But you will have to pay the fees yourself.”

  Griffith beamed, suddenly at a loss as to what he should do. His father had never been a fan of physical intimacy, so while with anyone else this situation would have called for a hug, he squeezed Dad’s shoulder instead. “Thank you. I will make it, you’ll see.”

  Father nodded, watching Allen put another one of his findings into the basket Mark carried behind him.

  Griff looked at his phone when it buzzed, expecting a text from Nisha, but the message was from Charlotte, and in her dramatic style, it only said: [Meet me at the bridge].

  He licked his lips, contemplating for a moment whether it was worth it, considering that she likely only wanted to hurl more abuse at Mark, but in the end he stood up and excused himself

  Griffith circled the house and continued along the driveway. He spotted Charlotte as soon as he walked past the curve of the road beyond the parking area. A long stretch of the road was left bare, with the sheep contained on one side and large yet scattered trees on the other, so he could see her as if she were a single pea on an empty plate. Pacing from one side of the small bridge from the other, she seemed harmless, but the moment Griffith thought back to the vile way she’d behaved toward him and Mark in the past few months, he was close to backing away.

  Too late. She’d already seen him, and by the time she waved Griffith’s way, he’d resigned himself to the upcoming conversation and approached her at a faster pace.

  “Where’s Chris?” he asked once he was close enough. Chris was kind of boring, definitely not the type of person Griffith would have liked to spend time with, but he did recognize that for all his faults in terms of temperament, Chris was a good person and genuinely cared for Charlotte. And now Griffith felt bad for him. He didn’t deserve to find out about the whole mess the way he had.

  Charlotte faced him, her beautiful hair and coat floating with the breeze so perfectly it wouldn’t have been out of place in a romantic movie. But one thing didn’t fit the image—the denim baseball cap she was clutching to her chest. Somewhat worn, with threads sticking out of the jaguar embroidered at the front, it had seen a lot of use some years back.

  Charlotte drew in a sharp breath and shook her head. “Chris is in the house. I can’t focus on his feelings right now. I’m freaking out.”

  Griffith stopped a few paces from her, feeling a bit cold now, since
unlike in the garden—here the breeze was flowing freely all the way under his clothes. “He loves you. I’m sure he’ll come around.”

  Her features stiffened, with her eyes puffing up as if she were about to cry. “Griff, this isn’t about Chris. I don’t even know how to explain this so that you understand. Mark isn’t who you think he is.”

  Not this again.

  Griffith patted both his palms against his hips to let go of at least some of the frustration soaking his entire body. “Oh, come on! Can’t you let this go? I love him. Nothing you say is going to change that.”

  “But, Griff… I know we’ve had our differences this past year, but you need to know about his past so that you can make an informed decisio—”

  Griffith shook his head as anger rose deep inside and threatened to overflow. He would not allow anyone to badmouth Mark over the past he himself was so ashamed of. “No, Charlotte! He told me. And yes, his life was nothing like ours, but everyone deserves a second chance. He is a good person at heart, and he is everything I need. You have to stop trying to put an end to our relationship. I know the thing with Allen is weird. It makes me uncomfortable too, but what’s done is done!”

  Charlotte pressed her lips tightly together and wouldn’t look into Griff’s eyes, facing the stream under the bridge instead. “Fine. If you know everything, and you’re still okay with it, then this is the last time I’ll ever speak about it, but that guy is poison, so don’t come crying to me when it all blows up in your face. He gave me this when I was leaving Colombia. You can have it. I’m done,” she said grimly and stretched out her hand, offering Griffith the cap.

  He took it before glancing at his sister with growing resentment. He’d always believed Charlotte was a bit shallow but judging someone over being homeless and forced into prostitution by circumstances was a new low. Still, he took a deep breath, intent on staying civil. “Okay. Let’s just move on. Why don’t you come back and play with Allen? He must miss you, and I’m sure Mum and Dad want to talk to you as well.”

  Deep down, Griffith hoped that maybe she wasn’t really so bigoted. Maybe it was a case of harboring feelings for a past lover, and she was simply torn over the guy she wanted and the guy she felt she needed? As much as he resented her sometimes, Charlotte was still his sister, and he hoped she would eventually come around.

  Charlotte nodded, but said nothing as she started toward the house, discreetly rubbing her eyes. Griffith swallowed, feeling an odd heaviness in his heart. The situation was fucked-up—he knew—but at the end of the day he hadn’t taken Mark away from her. She’d rejected him from the start, and it wasn’t fair of her to expect that he turned his back on love because of her past. People changed, and so did their expectations. Maybe, with time, all the hard feelings would disperse.

  Unwilling to prod, he followed her in silence, all the way to the garden where Allen was already busy eating his bounty. Mark sat on a wicker sofa with the boy in his lap and talked to someone he was seeing on the screen of his phone. Was he introducing Allen to his fathers?

  Griff sped up to be in the picture and Mark gave him a wide smile the moment their eyes met. “Allen’s meeting Angelica.”

  Griffith briefly looked toward the house and saw his parents talking over tea, way more animately than they usually were. He could have called them over, but in all honesty, it was too early to arrange a meeting between both sets of Allen’s grandparents.

  Griffith sat down next to Mark and waved at the screen, spotting Domenico’s modelesque face right away. “Happy Easter!”

  Domenico raised his brows and gave a short laugh. “He’s cute as a puppy.”

  Griffith patted Allen’s head. “Of course he is! Looks just like his daddy.”

  Seth snorted. “He meant you.”

  “Don’t listen to them,” Mark said and put his arm around Griff, replacing the chill with the warmth of his body. “But yes, he is adorable.”

  Griffith flushed, unsure how to interpret that kind of compliment, but maybe baby gays like him were cute to men over ten years older. He could take that.

  “I don’t think we were properly introduced, Mr. Seth. Mark talks about you all the time. And I assume it’s you whom I should be grateful for all those breakfasts to bed.” There. He would unleash the whole extent of his charm.

  Domenico snorted. “Come on, we’re not fifty. Domenico and Seth is fine.”

  Seth nodded quickly, leaning forward and taking up the majority of the screen. “It’s great to meet you, Griffith. I’m happy our boy got himself such a catch.”

  “He took his time picking and choosing,” Domenico said with a smirk.

  “Oh, my God, shut it,” Mark hissed.

  Griffith lowered his voice. “What does he mean?”

  “He means it took a special kind of man to get me hooked.” Mark wiggled his brows and pressed a kiss to his lips. Griff was still a bit uneasy about tenderness in front of an audience, but then again, Domenico and Seth didn’t seem bothered by boundaries of polite conversation.

  “Mark told us you’re a dancer?” Seth asked.

  Griffith smiled and leaned closer to Mark, his excitement growing in proportion to the interest they were showing. “Not a professional yet but on my way. Mark could film me and show you the recording sometime. If you’d like that, of course.

  Domenico nodded. “You must be really flexible.”

  Mark hid his face in his hand. “Please stop. Griff, ignore him.”

  Seth spread his arms with a grin. “He’s just complimenting. As a dancer, Griffith is surely very athletic.”

  “Are you a professional chef? You know so many recipes,” Griffith tried to change the topic.

  Domenico made a loud ha sound and pulled Seth closer. “A rising star of the culinary world.”

  Seth grinned. “Flattery. You’d have to taste it for yourself, Griff. Has Mark invited you over to Buenos Aires for the summer yet?”

  Mark peeked out from behind his fingers and squeezed Griff’s shoulder, almost absent-mindedly grabbing the chocolate shell of a large egg that Allen almost dropped to the ground. “I haven’t had the chance yet.”

  Griffith swallowed, overcome with a sudden dizziness. He was in. Mark’s parents wanted to host him. “Really? Thank you. I can’t wait to finally meet both of you in person. But... I don’t want to impose, of course.”

  Domenico waved it off. “Don’t worry. We’re going to give you a tour. Hope you can swim. We might rent out a yacht for a few days so we can just relax on the ocean and get to know each other.”

  Griffith wasn’t entirely sure what kind of boat would be convenient for both them and Mark’s parents. A proper yacht, surely, but those were very expensive. “Oh. Yes, yes I do.”

  “I swim too!” yelled a little girl’s voice from somewhere off screen.

  “I swim, I swim!” Allen joined the cacophony.

  Mark laughed. “Okay, now wave at your ridiculously-young grandpas!”

  Allen did. With both hands, and Griff made sure to be in the picture too just before they all finished the video call.

  “They’re so... intense,” Griffith said, staying with his head on Mark’s shoulder. He wasn’t sure whether the demeanor of the Vincitores fascinated or exhausted him.

  “And they’re ten times that in person. Very loud.”

  Griffith smiled, thinking of Mark’s mannerisms—the way he talked with his hands sometimes, how he liked expressing opinions without embellishments, to the point of being rude. Griff was positive he now knew where that had come from.

  He exhaled and pushed into Mark’s arms as soon as Allen ran off toward his grandparents. ”Say, about this holiday…”

  “You don’t want to go? I get it, it’s a bit soon.”

  Griffith looked up and gave Mark a peck on the cheek. “No, I do! I just... you already spend so much money to support me. I’d hate to be a burden to your parents, too. I can’t really afford a holiday right now.”

  “No, no! If you want to g
o, I can pay, it’s okay. Only fair if it’s a visit with my family.”

  Griffith exhaled. “No, I can’t allow that. This will really get expensive. It’s way beyond adding a little bit more cash to the grocery budget.”

  Mark frowned, calculating something in his head. “I’ve got to tell you something about Seth, but it’s a secret, okay?

  Griffith nodded and found Mark’s hand, squeezing it gently. Nothing could have prepared him for what he heard next.

  “He’s Secret Chef. The Secret Chef. We really can afford to have you come over.”

  Griffith leaned back, waiting for Mark to pull a stupid face, but no—he was serious. “Are you kidding me? It’s his recipes Mum used today.”

  “He’s the guy. The cookbook, the website, all that. And I… I really have a lot of savings from the time I worked with them in transit. Don’t worry about money.”

  Griffith’s brain backtracked, but the time for this question had come. “I know this is super rude, but... how much money do you actually have?”

  Mark rubbed Griff’s ear with his thumb. “You know the rent on my apartment? There is none. The place belongs to met. Does that answer your question?”

  Griffith knew how much his parents had paid for their flat in the same building, and prices had risen since then. “What? Why are you driving a secondhand car then?”

  This time it was Mark who looked confused. “What? You don’t like my car? I’m not a fan of drawing attention to myself.”

  Oh, crap. “No, that’s not what I meant. I mean... when people have so much cash, they usually... have different cars,” he said flatly. Though in truth he wasn’t very fond of Mark’s car. It was... fine. “And don’t shop in Lidl.”

  Mark stared him down. “I like their stuff.”

  God, Griffith should have kept his mouth shut. “I’m just... surprised. You still have so many secrets, and I kept worrying that I’m straining your budget.”