“Yeah, Madden, you do.”
Gabby kisses his cheek, her stare pointed at me, and because she’s always been so in tune with me, she confirms she can feel the ache in my heart by mouthing, I’m so sorry.
I lean in and kiss her trembling lips. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You hear me? You made sure he got to live, and that’s the only part I’ll ever hold on to. When it counted, you gave him life, despite everything working against you. We’re going to come out of this stronger than when we went in. I’ll never leave you again.”
“I love you, Maddox,” she says. “Let’s go pack his things, and then I’ll introduce you to my grandmother. She’s softer than the rest.”
I nod, but when she turns to leave with him still in her arms despite his size against hers, I stop her, already grabbing for him. She’s short and he’s a kid, not a baby or toddler, and even though she’d die before admitting it, I can see she keeps adjusting her hold on him because she’s struggling. “Gab, let him—”
“I know he can walk. I just want to hold him a little while,” she pleads with just a look. It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.
I know you didn’t get to, baby.
I’ve also been asking her a lot of pregnancy questions. It’s my way to find out information, which means I know she shouldn’t be carrying that much weight for long periods of time, especially up stairs. “Come to me,” I finish. “That’s what I was going to say. I’ll carry him upstairs. Think of both,” I hint, trying to be vague.
She hugs him tight as she breathes out, her shoulders trying to relax. “Okay.”
As if Madden doesn’t miss anything, he holds his arms out for me to get him, making my heart swell. I grab him and lock my forearm onto the backs of his legs on the left side of my torso, wrapping my right arm around Gabby. She’ll likely have plenty of time to hold him, because I’m almost positive he’s going to have to sleep with us until we figure out a new place to live; one that will accommodate an entire family. It’s no longer just the two of us, and that’s the way I intend to think from here on out. “Show me to his room.”
Fifty-Two
Gabby
Maddox pulls the rental into his parents’ driveway behind three other vehicles, two of which I’m not familiar with, but based on one truck—the newest and most decked out of them all—having a Louisiana collegiate tag representing LSU, I’m going to assume it’s his brother, which only makes me more nervous. Maddox said way back then that Micah wanted out of this town as soon as he graduated. If I remember correctly, he’s like seven years older than Maddox. I only met him that one weekend, which was before all the shit hit the fan and my dad embarrassed me. Who knows what he thinks of me now. If I wasn’t so hopelessly in love with Maddox, my pride alone would keep me away.
It suddenly seems crowded. When I was here in October, we had the house to ourselves. We sort of always did. His parents were conservative, not strict, and I always thought the two went hand in hand until I met Maddox. Maddox was also the ‘baby’ of the two, which means they were a lot more relaxed with him than his brother. They raised him to make the right decision without breathing down his neck to watch him do it. They lived their own life instead of living through their kids like some parents.
The vehicle I recognize is his dad’s truck because it’s the same one he had when we were dating during Maddox’s senior year. The one they showed up in when we had the meeting from Hell between us and our parents. I think it was still pretty new when everything went bad, and Maddox said he keeps the same vehicle for like ten years.
My nerves are frayed. I feel like I’m going to puke. I have no idea whether it’s anxiety or the pregnancy; maybe a little of both. But I can’t seem to calm down no matter how hard I try. Between the time we spent at my grandparents’ house where we were both drilled with a million questions, and the plane ride back as new parents, I’m trying to adjust still. My dad has been a good middleman between us and Madden while we get used to each other, but I’m terrified to fail once he’s no longer around. I want to do this on my own. Just me and Maddox.
Most people have months to adjust to parenthood with a crying infant, while we’re coming into it with a child that has a routine, can speak and do for himself, and is also having to adjust to an entirely different life in a matter of days. We’re all just winging it.
Tired of messing with my hands in my lap, I pull down the visor and open the mirror, inspecting myself. My long sleeve shirt is such a dark brown it appears black when you’re not in the right light, much like my eyes. It’s a stark contrast against my light hair. I tuck one side of my blonde hair behind my ear and then decide to pull it back out. Maybe I should have curled my hair versus straightening it with a flat iron. I feel like I’m missing something. Lipstick!
I grab my purse and dig through it, unable to find it. I think I put it back in my makeup bag, which is with my luggage at my dad’s house. Great. The one time I act organized is the worst possible time. I usually never put my crap back where it goes.
Maddox grabs my wrist and slides his hand into mine, swaying my attention. I’ve always thought he’s handsome. When he’s dressed in a button-down and nice jeans and his better shoes, he takes my breath away. I love that color on him—Irish green. It’s bright without appearing summery. Makes his tan stand out. His dirty-blond hair is flipping up a little in the front because that’s how the coarse texture air dries. His jaw is working back and forth, but he’s not smiling, putting me on alert. “What’s wrong? Am I underdressed? I knew my destroyed skinny jeans were too casual.”
“Gab.”
“I may have a better top in my carry-on. I’m notorious for carrying backups. I think it’s still in the trunk. Just give me a second to check.”
I reach for the door handle, but he squeezes the hand he’s holding. “Gabby.” I look back at him. “Stop. You look beautiful. There is nothing wrong with your outfit. You’re acting like my parents have never met you.”
“I think you look beautiful too, Mommy,” Madden pipes in, making me even more emotional.
“Thank you, baby,” I tell him. That wall I’ve been working so hard to build the entire way here is quickly crumbling. My eyes fall back on Maddox’s. “What if they hate me?” I whisper. “Or think I did it on purpose?”
He glances at Madden in the rearview mirror, who’s sitting buckled in his booster seat dressed out like a miniature version of his daddy. Maddox thought it was weird for him to sit in one at six, saying he didn’t sit in a booster seat that old, but times have changed and Madden is small. I’m not sure what the law is. I’m not taking any chances on getting him taken. I’ll probably end up being one of those bubble moms.
Madden is dressed in a button-down and jeans just like Maddox. We took him to get a new outfit for the occasion. His hair is even gelled because he wanted Maddox to fix it when he was putting some product in his own after his shower, melting my heart. The way Maddox is looking at him confirms he knows what I’m talking about, before locking his eyes on me. “Are you serious? I could have gone to jail and it didn’t stop me from hittin’ that!” he whisper-shouts, trying to keep his voice low. “I knew you weren’t on birth control and didn’t pull out.”
“They don’t know that! It’s not like it’s that big of a stretch. I’ve always been madly in love with you. My dad was making us break up. Now, all these years later, I’m just supposed to introduce him and expect them to like me?”
His smile finally breaks. “As flattering as that is, beautiful, if they are going to blame anyone for doing this on purpose, it’s going to be me, along with number two.”
My eyes bug out of my head. “I forgot they knew! Maddox,” I whine.
He laughs. “I can’t help I keep getting a hole in one.”
“Will you teach me how to get a hole in one, Daddy?” Madden asks. He’s become Maddox’s shadow in a short amount of time, and I don’t know whether to pick my heart up off the floor that is in a puddle or be jealou
s. Seeing how much Maddox loves it, though, keeps the jealousy at bay. I think he’s more relieved than anything.
His smile grows. “When you’re older, buddy.”
My jaw drops and I point at him. “Not until he can buy the clubs! This is where your good morals better have stuck!”
Maddox pulls me in for a kiss, our lips so close I can smell the mint on his breath. “I can’t blame him if he brings one home like mama. The sweet talkin’ pretty ones get you in a heap of trouble.”
I sigh and melt into him, my heart already fluttering. His good looks and easygoing personality could get him out of anything. He’s had my heart since the moment he opened his mouth to talk to me. “Even if they didn’t like me, I’m selfish enough to keep you for myself.”
“You and me—we’ll always find a way, baby. I’ll love you ‘til the end of time, Gab.”
I brush my lips against his. “You better. If I can’t have you no one will. Remember that when those leggy girls start smiling at you.”
“You know your crazy has always turned me on,” he says low and deep. “We’re going to ruin our son. I used to get grossed out thinking of my parents having this side of a relationship.”
I smile at him. “I can think of far worse ways to ruin him than loving each other unconditionally.”
He finally plants a kiss on my lips. “Play that angle for my parents and they’ll love you as much as I do.”
If only it were that easy . . . History always has an effect on the future.
Fifty-Three
Maddox
I open the back door of the car and unbuckle Madden’s seatbelt, letting him hop down to the floorboard to get out. “Will they sound like you do, Daddy, or like me?” he asks, his accent thick when he speaks English. I can tell it’s an adjustment for him, because occasionally he’ll start asking a question in Greek and then have to stop himself and re-ask in English.
Personally, I think he’s smart as a whip to be able to do that so young, because at twenty-four I can’t imagine learning another language, but I’m determined to figure out a way to so that he doesn’t feel like he sticks out. I’m almost relieved to know he’ll go to school in a place like Miami where cultural differences are much more common than a place like this.
I squat so that we’re eye to eye. “They’re going to sound like me, Madden.”
“How come I don’t sound like you or Mommy?” He pauses to think, and when he does speak, I make sure to listen to him. “The kid at that place looked at me funny and asked why I sounded different.”
“When we let you play on the jungle gym at the park after you ate your chicken nuggets?” He nods. “He probably had never heard someone with a Greek accent. Greece is far away. Mommy was born here and learned how to talk here. That’s why she sounds like me.”
“I want to sound like you.”
“Why? I like the way you sound. It means you’ve lived in a cool place.”
“Because you’re my dad.”
“Well, you are like me.”
“How?”
“When I was a kid and went to a new place on vacation, people I didn’t know said I talked really country.”
“What’s country?”
“When I talked to people that lived there, I sounded different than they did. It was slower and had a twang to it. That’s how they knew I was from the south. People all over the world sound different. It makes them unique.”
“So in a different place you will sound different like I do here?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
“Are you ready to meet your grandparents and your uncle? If not, we can stay out here a little longer.”
“I’m ready. I think. Am I ready, Daddy?”
I laugh and stand, reaching for his hand. “Yeah, I think you’re ready. You look sharp. Your Uncle Riggan is going to try to tell you it’s not cool to dress nice. We don’t listen to anything he says that isn’t related to music. It would do him some good to look nice from time to time.”
“Uncle Rig-gan is wrong. Daddy is right. Got it.”
I laugh again. The kid is going somewhere. Riggan is going to kill me. It’ll be worth it. When I turn around Gabby is swiping underneath her eyes, trying not to smear her makeup. She wore those jeans because she knows I like ripped up jeans on her. I like seeing her tan skin peeking through. I’ve always liked her thighs. They’re not big, but they’re made with some meat. I like the new leopard print heels she called ‘booties’ that she’s wearing even more.
When she told her dad we were going to find Madden an outfit for today, he handed her back her credit cards and said we’d work it out over time. Right now, she hasn’t made a decision for her future. She stared at one the whole car ride saying she wasn’t going to use it. I forced her to buy a new outfit for herself with it. I can be a man of compromise. She needed a car. He gave her a car. I’ll pay the insurance and put gas in it. He agreed that was fair.
The thing is, I’m not the bad guy. We’re together and we have our son. If her dad wants to feel like he’s supporting her in ways by giving her play money because she hasn’t let him in years, then whatever. She likely deserves it for a while anyway. She gave up college while all of her friends went and the life of luxury she was always used to. She showed me the house she was renting with another girl. The place looked like a dump if you ask me. I got a little angry. It reminded me of some of the places we’ve found Riggan on drug binges. She tried to play it off that the inside is much nicer than the outside. Not likely.
She fans her face with her hands. She’s beautiful, even on days like today when she’s been bitching over some breakout on her face that only she can see as she tries to cake makeup on it. I don’t think I’ll ever understand why in the hell she didn’t tell me to fuck off that night I had the balls to talk to her. I keep trying. It just doesn’t make sense. “What’s wrong?”
“I knew you’d be a good daddy, but it still makes me emotional to witness. Stupid hormones. I don’t miss this crying over everything part.”
I walk toward her and wrap my free arm around her, all three of us walking down the sidewalk toward the front porch. The sun is starting to set.
As we climb the front steps, the door swings open to Micah stepping over the threshold. Same dirty-blond hair. Same green eyes. A beard the same color as his hair he keeps trimmed close to the face. Slimmer build than me. More casual with his nice Southern Marsh tee shirt and jeans and expensive boots. His sunglasses are sitting backward on the back of his neck with the elastic strap that holds them around his neck on his chest. He’s thirty-one. He came easily. I took time. According to Mom anyway.
Based on the smile that bottoms out when his eyes land on Madden at my side, I’m guessing he was going to give me shit over not coming to see him in a while. “Jesus Christ,” he says, just before looking at Gabby and then at me. “Why does that kid look just like you, Maddox?”
“He’s my dad,” Madden answers, his voice pulling Micah’s attention back.
I can see the questions all over his face as he steps closer to Madden and squats. He’ll never let it show, though. Micah is smart. That’s why he makes so much damn money now. He’ll figure it out on his own without having to ask a single one.
Micah is rougher on the outside, softer on the inside. We’re the opposite of each other. He couldn’t stand to see me pine over Gabby when I lived with him. He’s like a big teddy bear and doesn’t have near the anger I do. I always thought he’d have kids of his own way before I did. “Of course he is. I was just testing how smart you were. You passed with flying colors, my man. Do you know who I am?”
Madden looks up at me. I nod. Micah hasn’t looked away from him. He won’t. “Uncle Micah?”
He smiles. “That’s right, and if anyone asks, I’m your favorite uncle. I bet you just had a birthday. Am I right?”
Madden smiles, nodding big. “It was November. I turned six!”
“That’s a big one.” He returns the
excitement. “Luckily for you, I remembered. Do you like presents?”
“Who doesn’t like presents?”
“That’s what I’m saying! Presents are the best. Do you want to go on a treasure hunt for one?”
“Yes!” He tugs on my hand. “Can I, Daddy?”
“Sure, buddy.”
“Thanks!”
Micah stands directly in front of me, our height matching. He keeps his voice low. “While you lived with me?”
I nod. “I suggest you break it to her while we’re treasure hunting in the attic for one of your old toys Mom refuses to get rid of. I knew her hoarding would come in handy one day.”
Madden would like that,” I tell him, knowing he’ll catch on.
He steps toward Gabby and hugs her with a smile. “Gabby, it’s been a long time. Glad you’re back in the picture. I don’t have to listen to him whine anymore.”
She smiles, and I can see the tension melt away as she releases him. “It’s good to see you.”
“There’s a part two coming,” I tell him when he glances at me. “Might as well let it all out of the bag. We haven’t told certain people yet,” I hint so that he doesn’t blurt it out with Madden listening. We want to wait before adding more for him to take in. This is his time.
“Mom told me when she called me to come home. I was surprised until she told me who. Your ass probably did it intentionally.”
I grin at Gabby. “Told you.”
He slaps me on the shoulder. “Be prepared to pick up the pieces.” And then he turns and grabs for Madden’s hand, leading him inside. “We’re going treasure hunting.”
Gabby and I follow. The dreaded moment has arrived, and I can’t say that I’m ready for it. No guy wants to break his mama’s heart.
Fifty-Four
Gabby
My mouth is already watering when we walk through the door to the smell of food. I don’t know what it is, but it smells divine. My stomach is growling in response. Maddox said his mom was making this her Christmas family dinner while we’re all here. I wish my nerves would subside. I’m trying not to put too much thought into the fact that I now have a little boy with me and haven’t bought the first gift for him and we’re already well into December. It was a little heartbreaking to have to ask my grandmother what traditions my son is used to. Those are things a mom should know. It felt backward.
Finding Fate Page 40