Page 88 of Finding Fate

Her cheeks heat. “Don’t you ever tell a soul the classy Presley Dunagin likes anal play.”

My mouth tips. “Our secret. Go get ready and take Sayler to pick out a twin bed and some boy stuff since you’re so drawn to shopping for boys. It’ll give you some practice while we men drink beer and build shit.”

With a squeal, she’s kisses me quickly and takes off. “Best husband ever!”

“You may take that back when I’m fucking you to heavy metal later,” I call back.

“Consider it done!”

I shake my head and laugh. No one from Laguna would believe this is what Presley Dunagin has become. I smile. I knew it was there all along. And she’s all mine.

Fifty-One

Maddox

The car pulls up to one of the biggest houses I’ve seen since I got here. With color palettes of bright blues and whites it’s hard not to find it beautiful. So much water. So much depth to the landscape. So much to see. I like that a lot of the houses have an older style versus more modern architecture, even though there is that too. Certain places look like a photo out of a magazine; like a wonder of the world.

Out of all the wrong I’ve done in my life, God has to be on my side, because the single only reason I had a passport was because of that mission trip my parents encouraged me to go on my first year in the youth group at my church. They said it’d be a once in a lifetime opportunity. I went through all the necessary steps to go out of the country and backed out in the end. I suppose now, it’s never a bad thing to be prepared for everything.

Gabby’s dad starts talking to the driver in Greek, which is something that never occurred to me since they’ve always spoken English back home. Her grandfather took another car. I’m more scared of him than I’ve ever been of her dad. He makes things a lot more awkward. I was thankful for the break. He looks at you hard and says very little. He has those same eyes I’ve always found extraordinary in Gabby, only his look lethal, aged, and though they’ve seen a lifetime of battles.

My nerves are haywire. Thoughts are running away. “Gab, do you think there will be language barriers?”

She looks at me and then stares at the house. “I don’t know. I’m not sure what they’ve taught him or how they’ve raised him.”

“He’s bilingual,” her dad says, cutting into our conversation, and then he looks at me. “To some of us, it’s important for a child to understand their heritage. His father is American. He understands English perfectly fine.”

Side note: look into Greek classes.

I nod, slightly relieved we don’t have that dilemma right off the bat. I think I’d lose it if he couldn’t understand me. I’m so nervous I could puke, but I’ll have to endure it, because as her dad opens the front passenger door and exits, we follow his lead.

As we approach the door, Gabby grabs ahold of my hand, lacing the two together. I can finally feel that she’s shaking. Her dad opens the door and calls out something in Greek throughout the house. We come through the doorway and shut the door at the exact moment little feet start running down the stairs. Gabby squeezes my hand and my heart starts pounding in my ears. “Pappoús!” a young voice screams out excitedly.

I don’t know what I expected him to sound like, but having a Greek accent wasn’t it. I’ve always been a backwoods country boy, and this is putting me out of my element. But I’ve dreamed of this moment so many times since she told me about him, and here we are, about to finally see him.

Gabby’s dad looks at her. “Take Maddox into the main space. I need a minute with him, okay?”

She hesitates, but then she pulls me along, leading me through the house until we come into what looks like the main living space filled with seating. I can’t even look around to admire where we are because my stomach is churning, and I feel anxious.

Gabby sits down, tugging for me to join her, and despite my need to stand, I sit. Muffled voices, one aged, one young, converse in Greek, and I hate that I can’t understand what they’re saying. “What did your dad just say?” I ask her.

Gabby’s eyes are filled with tears as she stares forward blankly, scaring me. “Remember that day I told you stories about? It’s here,” she whispers, and then looks at me. I’ve only heard her speak in Greek a few times in the past. She thought it was weird that she was bilingual when most of the people at her school weren’t. In her mind different was a bad thing, while I thought it set her apart. She would get embarrassed that I liked hearing it and always played it off that she was rusty, but if she can tell me what he said that easily, she was lying. She’s beautiful, but she’s also smart. I hope he’s more like her. “Do you think he knows about us?”

The rushing of my blood through my heart is making me feel overwhelmed. “I don’t know. I’d hate your dad a little less if he does.”

“I mamá kai o bampás mou eínai edó?”

I watch the tear fall down her face as our little boy speaks back to her dad close enough we can just barely pick up what they’re saying but far enough we can’t see them. “My mom and dad are here?” he asked. “He knows, thank God.”

“Naí. Échoun megalósei kai érchontai gia na sas pároun.”

Her bottom lip trembles as she stares at me, more tears coming now. “What?!” I whisper-shout in a panic. “What did he say? I can’t stand this.”

“Yes. They’ve grown up and come to get you.”

Before I can even sort out my emotions and the many swarming feelings combatting in my body, Gabby’s dad steps into the room, leading someone else, and when they get a few steps from the couch, he stops and steps to the side, letting us see him. The second I lay my eyes on the six-year-old little boy I break, tears streaming down my face.

He has Gabby’s dark eyes, but everything else is me. My darker blond hair. Same features. Same skinny build I had as a kid before puberty hit and learning how to work, which made me fill out. It’s the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen. Every few seconds he glances at Gabby, but his focus remains on me. I can’t catch my breath because it feels like my heart keeps trying to stop but then starts up again.

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