Page 99 of Mayflower

“It’s an expression,” Raven explains. “That’s what some people call their father.”

Sonny gives him a thoughtful stare then blurts, “So, I call you my old man?”

Rave freezes for a second. Sonny shifts his hesitant gaze at me. And I burst out laughing, and then Sonny joins, and Raven points his fork at him. “No.”

Raven turns to me and winks, and I can’t look away.

He looks like a devil but has the smile of a saint. He calls it a “Maddy smile.” He says he only smiles like this for me, but that’s not true. He smiles like that for Sonny and many others. He smiles a lot lately.

It’s astonishing that a man scarred on the inside as well as the outside has so much love to give.

He is like no one else I’ve ever met. Sad eyes. Wild heart. Strong arms and the softest touch. He is what God created when he wanted to make a villain, gave him a tormented past, sent him through hell, fire and bullets, and then—with a flicker of a smile—gave him a tender heart, hiding it behind all that angst and vicious punches. We humans are test subjects in the hands of the universe.

Raven’s heart is a closed bud that is finally blooming into a beautiful flower.

How can you not be in love with someone like that?

RAVEN

It’s almost midnight.

Sonny is fast asleep in one corner of the sofa with a TV remote in his hand.

Maddy and I are cuddling, lying down, my arms wrapped around her.

I want to say that it’s the best day ever, but I said that a week ago and again yesterday. Every day beats the day before.

Earlier, Sonny walked up to the potted flower in our kitchen, which is in the same pot that says R+M, and added a heart in a Sharpie.

I wanted to correct Mathew+Milena but it’s all the same. And the little guy beamed from ear to ear.

My girl—correction, soon-to-be wife—has a hard time staying awake. She shifts to face me, and I can tell she is falling asleep, but she smiles at me, always does. Her smile is almost permanent lately.

I kiss her lips, jaw, cheeks, eyebrows. I don’t care that I look cheesy like a love-struck fool. Maddy feels like a lifetime of promises. And I want to make sure they are real.

“You don’t remember it,” I say, playing with her hair, “but the first time I met your eyes was when you came to Ayana when Bo was shot. I stood by the medical center, talking to Archer. You got off the golf cart, your hair a mess, blue bloodied tank top, beige shorts, flip-flops, sunburnt nose. You looked so worried, but you had so much confidence.” I laugh through my nose. “Your eyes locked with mine for a second. Just one second. And for that second, I felt like I encountered something extraordinary. It’s hard to explain. That was a moment when I felt like I’d been knocked off my feet. In a good way. I forgot where I was. I know it sounds silly, but when you looked away, it felt like I was spat back out into the dirty reality, and I wanted to grab you and make you stare at me so I could bring that feeling back. I was waiting and waiting and waiting for you to look at me. And I was angry that you didn’t, didn’t care, didn’t even notice my existence.”

“I did.”

“I love you, beautiful girl.” I kiss her cheek. “I feel like this every day now. Like I’ve been blessed. You, the little guy. Every day feels extraordinary.”

I’m learning to say things out loud to her—about my feelings, my thoughts. I never thought I would trust anyone so much. Once upon a time, I despised this world and didn’t care if it went to hell. Now, I want to make it a beautiful place. For her. For our children. For those who have something good to offer, who make the people with bruised hearts and tormented minds smile.

“We should go to bed,” I say. I’ll have to carry the little dude to his bedroom too.

“In a minute,” she murmurs, her eyes closing. “I like it like this.”

Sonny’s words come back to me, “You, I, and Raven.”

It’s the three of us, soon to be four.

Breath by breath, Maddy relaxes against me, tucked under my arm, as she falls asleep. The little guy is at my feet, hugging them like I’m trying to run away.

I study Maddy’s peaceful expression. I brush a strand of hair off her face. Sleepily, she rubs her cheek on my shoulder, and I dissipate at the feeling.

As carefully as possible, I place my palm on her belly and spread my fingers. It’s still early, but already there is a little “Raven+Maddy” in her, and I whisper, “I can’t wait to meet you.”

I want to get down on my knees and kiss her belly. I’ll go down on my knees for her any time.

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