“Nothing about us has ever felt wrong. I know we’ve grown up and some things have changed. I’ll have to relearn stuff about her, and I know we’re dealing with some hard shit, but man, I knew she wasitway before I knew everything there was to know about her.”
“Then what the hell does it matter how long it’s been? Weeks or years doesn’t changewhoit is. When you know you know. No point in dragging it out. For you and her, it fits. You’ve always been hung up on her.”
“You think there’s a chance she’ll say no?”
His lips curl up. “If she didn’t drop your sorry ass back then she’s not going to now.”
I chuckle. “You’re probably right. Thanks for helping with all of this. I know you have your own shit going on with the wedding planning and all.”
He nods. The space becomes silent. I glance at my face in the mirror one more time, hoping I don’t choke up in the process of all this. I always thought by the time I was ready to propose I’d have months to plan it and work up the nerve. “I was insensitive. I’m sorry. Of all people, I should know letting things go isn’t always easy. Pain isn’t black and white. It’s gray as fuck. There are good and bad days, and times you don’t want to be around people getting what you should have. You’ve always been the solid one between us. You’re stronger emotionally. I don’t like seeing you like that.”
I look at him. I guess it’s time. It’s been an elephant in the room since it happened. “So was I. We all go through bad shit. I guess it’s just my turn again. I was being a dick. I’m glad you’re happy, Rig. You deserve everything you’re getting.”
“You don’t deserve it any less,” he says, and I fight my own emotions. “How are you holding up?”
“Been better, but I’ve also been worse. At least I’ve got the girl. Konnor helped me put some things in perspective. I’m torn, to be honest. One part of me wants to try to somehow pick up the pieces of my blown mind and move on, to build a life with her and start over, have kids at some point, and hope maybe he comes to find us one day when he’s older so we don’t disrupt his life at a sensitive phase.” I breathe out, knowing that’s the smaller part of me. “But then I remember he’s myson.I created a human being with her, and I don’t think I could ever live a normal life knowing a part of me is somewhere in the world. I will never be that guy. I just want to lay my eyes on him, even if from a distance. You remember how my mom used to tag me and Micah on Facebook every year on our birthdays with a few photos of us growing up, starting from a newborn? We swore up and down she did it with the sole purpose of embarrassing the hell out of us, but every year from the time we had an account we could bank on it.”
“Yeah.”
“That photo Gabby has looks just like my baby photo. One night I sat up looking at it while she was in the shower. I went back through my tagged photos and found one. I couldn’t deny him even if I wanted to. Only God knows what he looks like now. What if he looks like me? Or acts like me? I want to know. Then I try to imagine one day him finding out about us and wanting to meet us, and every time my fears are the same. What if he’s angry we gave him away and didn’t even try? I owe it to him to at least make sure he’s happy, even if that means trading in my own happiness by letting him go. What would you do if you found out you had a kid out there?”
“I don’t know, Maddox. I don’t think it’s fair for me to put in my opinion, because we all feel differently about shit, and it’s not right for me to try to understand feelings I’ve never experienced. I think anyone with our backgrounds would find it hard to absorb. We grew up with loving parents, we had a good childhood, and we’ve never felt unwanted. We were also raised to know right from wrong. It’s why we’re all friends. We’re a lot alike—you, me, Konnor, and Landon. Even Kaysen. When I found out Sayler was pregnant I knew I was going to be a father. There was never any other thought. Making it disappear like Presley or giving it away like Gabby never crossed my mind, but the difference is I was in the picture when she found out she was pregnant. Neither of you had a hand in the decisions. I did the crime I’m going to pay with time. You would have done the same, regardless of age, and that’s why it’s so hard for you to accept. The guys that could easily go on with their lives without question in your shoes are likely the ones that would have abandoned their girls pregnant, or not had shit to do with their kids after a while, like my dad.”
I turn around and prop myself against the bathroom counter, staring at the shower. “You’re right. I would have wanted that baby with her. When she asked me not to pull out, I never even thought twice about it. I just did it. It felt good too. And at fourteen I know getting pregnant wasn’t on Gabby’s mind. It was just something we had never done, and we were being forced to break up, so it was something we gave each other as a parting gift. No one thinks it’s going to happen doing it one time. Teenagers are stupid. But I knew better. She followed my lead with sex since she was a lot younger. I always stopped long enough to put on a condom in the beginning, and when we stopped using them it wasn’t discussed. I just shoved my dick inside her without one and then pulled out right before I needed to come. She trusted me. We loved each other. Nothing was ever said about it.”
My head drops back, the ceiling coming into focus as I think about everything. “What a damn nightmare. We weren’t ready to be parents, even though I would have gladly done it, because it was with her. There’s a huge difference in an eighteen and fourteen-year-old expecting a baby versus a twenty-five and nineteen-year-old like you and blondie. Your maturity levels are so much different. Being a fifteen-year-old mother wouldn’t have been fair for her either, even had we stayed together through her high school years. You can’t even get your learners’ permit to drive with a parent until you turn fifteen. I don’t know what to fucking do. She said he’ll be six in November. A six-year-old has memories. Knows who Mom and Dad are. Has friends. I remember being six.”
“I think you’re struggling so hard because you’re looking at it in a negative light. Even if you had known about him in the beginning, it doesn’t mean you loved him any less had you still chosen to give him away. Adoption isn’t a bad thing, Maddox. It’s a selfless act. Honestly, for me, I think it’s a lot harder of a decision to make than keeping it. A woman who can carry and feel her baby moving and then give birth and look at it living and breathing and then hand him to someone else is the bravest of them all, even if she wasn’t one hundred percent on board with it. Just because a couple puts their baby up for adoption doesn’t mean they’re bad people or would make shitty parents. It means you love him enough to give him a better life than what he’d have with you. Accidents happen. If adoption didn’t exist couples that can’t have kids would have no chance. Think about it from that perspective and see if maybe you find some peace.”
“Konnor said something similar. I don’t know if I’d be able to legally do anything after this long. I may have no choice.”
“There is nothing wrong with seeing what your options are, even if you don’t push forward and take action. If it would help you to live a full life to see what his life looks like, I think you owe it to yourself to try. If the people that have him are good enough to raise your kid, then they should be able to understand you want to make sure he’s taken care of, given the circumstances. It’s not like you’re someone that chose to give him up six years ago and just up and decided to try to get him back. But before you go through all that, as your friend that can look at it objectively, I feel I should say this. Make sure you put yourself in his parents’ shoes before you show up at their house, given the opportunity. They’ve had him since the day he was born. With that comes loving him, caring for him, and becoming attached to him. In their eyes he’s just as much their kid as you see him as yours. DNA isn’t the only thing that makes someone a parent, the rest of it does too. If you see him, and interact with him, are you prepared to walk away empty-handed should his life be everything you always had? If there is even one percent of your mind that thinks you can’t handle leaving him there, it’s not worth it. You don’t want to exist in that kind of darkness like I did. For some people, there is no coming back from it. I got lucky, and I had friends that wouldn’t give up on me. Persistence paid off, but people die every day because someone was too late. Remember, you got a second chance with Gabby. She’s not going to put up with that kind of bullshit. Don’t lose her over things you can’t change.”
He pushes off the frame and grips the top of my shoulder. “I came to tell you they’re about forty-five minutes out. Probably thirty now. Everything is ready. It’s on you now.”
He turns and walks away, his shoes already clomping down the stairs. I turn around, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My lips pull up. “Go get your girl.”
Twenty-One
Gabby
Sayler pulls up in the driveway and kills her car. When I open the door, the car light comes on. I pick up my new purse off the floor that I bought when I got tired of holding my wallet in my hand. It’s not designer by any means, but it serves a purpose. Over the years I’ve learned the value of a dollar. There is no reason to spend thousands on a purse when one less than a hundred is just as good, and in many cases fifty or less.
My glossy, black nail tips catch the light, drawing my attention. It’s amazing how much I’ve missed having my nails professionally done. You don’t realize how much you like something until you’ve gone without it for a long time. I decided to go with black to celebrate Halloween. Sayler got hers redone—bright red to match her outfit. I don’t care who you are, pampering yourself makes you feel better. Hands are prettier manicured, tips or not. My dad prefers girls to be every bit feminine and pretty. He started letting me do things young. Nail tips at twelve—he didn’t give a shit. Tanning bed—instead of signing a release form he just bought me a bed. With my natural skin tone, it took very little for me to get dark anyway. That just meant his little prized possession was a positive reflection on him that I cared about my looks.
I stare at them and how they make my fingers look longer, a memory already playing in my head of straddling Maddox’s ass in his bed one night when he snuck me out to come to his house. Back then his parents were at their house during the week and the camp most weekends, unless Maddox asked for it for friends. When we started dating, he stopped going with them. He told me now that they’re older, it’s the opposite. They stay at the camp for the most part, or at least once Maddox got good enough working for his dad that he could back off working some, like a partial retirement. Maddox liked me having nails so I could scratch his back. I smile to myself. May as well get ready. Probably why the boy wanted me to get them done, come to think of it. Always an ulterior motive with him.
“Okay, seriously, I can’t hold it in anymore. I love you blonde. I was trying not to say much so it didn’t have a negative sound to what you had before, but I totally get Maddox’s behavior if this is how you used to look. You’re beautiful, Gabby, even with the costume makeup on half of your face. I wasn’t sure what to expect since she had to take you from black to blonde without frying your hair, but she is worth every penny of what she makes. I figured this was going to be a lengthy process, but surprisingly, your hair took it well and lightened a lot.”
“Probably because blonde is my natural color. That’s why black makes me look so out of place and sort of gives me white trash vibes to people with money. That was the point. I didn’t really want to be beautiful anymore, because it made my dad so ugly. Thank you for going with me. This was fun. We’ll have to do it more often.” I smile at her. “As for Maddox . . . He is going to likely get worse. He and my father had some strange fetish for my blonde hair and dark eyes. If my dad would get the damn stick out of his ass, and set his pride aside, he’d realize he has a lot more in common with Maddox than he thinks, and he would actually get his way if he’d give me mine. The only way he’s going to get me back in that damn red Acura sitting in the garage and becoming his little Greek goddess again is to accept that I’m going to be with Maddox whether he likes it or not. I will go out with a bang before he sends me down an aisle to someone he’s arranged for me because of social statures. He doesn’t understand compromise. To him, money and power gives you everything. He can control everyone but me. He hates it. I got more of his traits than my mother’s. He just won’t admit it since I’m a girl.”
“I was terrified to introduce Riggan to my parents for a long time. I think sometimes our parents don’t understand that we aren’t them, and that’s the hardest part to accept. We’re our own person. Me and you have a lot of similarities with our backgrounds. I’m really starting to believe that whole phrase ‘birds of the same feather flock together’ since meeting Presley, and then you. Maybe he’ll come around like my dad. I’m starting to think he took it better than my mom, which surprises me.”
“I don’t know. My dad has done a lot of bad. I’m not sure if he can redeem himself. I wish he could, though. In the end, he’s still my dad, you know, and I have good memories with him that I’m trying to hold onto, despite the person he’s become over my love life. It’s hard to hate the parent that stayed and loved you when the other left, but I strongly dislike him right now, and I hope he changes his ways before it turns into hate, because by that point he’s lost me.” This conversation is getting too heavy for me. “So, what’s the plan? You said couple costumes for some Halloween party at one of the clubs, right?”
“Yeah. This is what Maddox chose for you and him. Skulls painted on half the face with all black clothing. I think he was trying to keep to the whole ‘Day of the Dead’ theme too.” She smiles. “I don’t think he was expecting for her to curl your hair with a large barrel iron and have the makeup artist completely do your makeup on one side while still making the costume paint feminine with a touch of glitter around your black eye though. Riggan wanted to do spooky costumes, but usually scary is ugly. I might have agreed to something like this had I seen it before choosing.”
I laugh. “Well, for a pregnant girl you’re rocking the flapper costume. Women all over the globe hate girls like you. You only hold pregnancy in one small ball on your lower stomach. Are you sure you want to go to a club again when you can’t drink? The fringe in the dress hides it pretty well, but that can’t be fun. I’m fine with doing something else if everyone just wants to hang out together.”