Chapter 19 Evan
NINETEEN
EVAN
My parents arrived last night, and we had a late dinner before going to bed. We were all too tired to spend any real time together. This morning, I took them out for breakfast and showed them around a little.
I gave them a tour of the stadium and we watched the team practice for about thirty minutes. They were impressed with the employee box and even commented that they might come for a game later in the season.
Even though I know my employees should be good for the next few days without me, it makes me nervous being away.
I’m somewhat of a workaholic and control freak.
I like to do everything myself rather than rely on others to help.
Hope knows to call if something comes up she can’t handle.
Ha, as if that will happen. She can probably do my job better than me.
It will do me good to keep that in mind and enjoy this time with my parents.
I’d never been away from them for more than a few days before moving to Miami three months ago.
Three months. Wow. It’s hard to believe I haven’t lived here longer. I finally found my rhythm at work, making the job less stressful, and I’ve fallen in love with my perfect man.
“What are you doing out here?” Mom asks, joining me on the small balcony. She and Dad laid down for a quick nap after lunch.
“Thinking.”
“Anything you want to share.”
“Thinking about how much I’m enjoying Miami. I wasn’t sure the first few weeks if I would like living here. I missed home and you guys so much, but I’ve made some friends and I love my job.”
“Have you met anyone special?”
“What? Why would ask me that?” My voice is a little high, likely giving away my lie.
“Because you’re different. You’re happier than I’ve ever seen you and I’m wondering if that has something to do with a man.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” I assert.
“You’ll tell me about him when you’re ready,” she declares, patting my leg. “As long as he treats you well. You don’t need a repeat of Mike.
How the hell do moms always know your business even when you say absolutely nothing to give anything away?
It’s like some weird mom superpower. If this conversation continues, I’m going to slip up and give my relationship with Isaac away.
I have to respect his wishes and keep the secret whether I agree with him or not.
“I assure you, I will never let anyone treat me the way Mike did.” I give her a little reassurance without giving anything away. “How about a glass of wine?” I offer. Mom enjoys sweet, white wine, so I bought a few bottles of her favorite Moscato.
“That sounds nice.”
“Relax. I’ll bring it to you.”
When I get to the kitchen, Dad is there drinking a glass of water.
“Hey, Dad. Would you like to join Mom and me on the balcony for a drink?”
“Sure. Can I help with anything?”
“Yeah, you can bring Mom her wine,” I tell him as I fill a glass for her. “What do you want? I have bourbon, this Moscato, and a bottle of red.”
“Red, please.”
After opening the bottle and pouring him a glass, Dad takes the drinks outside while I prepare some snacks, filling a platter with cheese, crackers, nuts, and apple slices. I’m on my way outside when my phone dings with a text, so I set the platter on the table and check my phone in case it’s work.
Isaac: I miss you. Having fun with your parents?
Me: Yeah, it’s been nice catching up. I took them to Little Havana today and we’re going to the beach tomorrow.
Me: I miss you, too.
Isaac: I’m sorry I can’t be there.
Me: It’s okay.
Is it really okay? I’m not completely convinced, but I’m trying to understand.
It was easy in the beginning when I didn’t know him very well.
Now that we’ve moved further along in the relationship and professed our love to each other, it’s getting harder.
I want to tell everyone Isaac Flores is my boyfriend, not because he’s famous and I want the status.
On the contrary, I have no desire to be the next headline.
I want everyone to know how much I love this man and how lucky I am to have him in my life.
Isaac: Thank you for understanding.
Me: I love you.
Isaac: I love you.
I shove my phone back into my pocket and join my parents on the balcony. The weather is beautiful today–seventy-five with a light breeze. It’s comfortable enough to sit outside without sweating and being miserable.
After a couple of bourbons and remembering the encouragement Isaac gave me when we discussed the topic, I get up the nerve to ask the question that’s been bothering me for most of my life.
I clear my throat and blurt out, “Can I ask you guys a question?” It comes out a little more aggressively than I meant for it to and both my parents look at me with concern.
“Of course, sweetie. You can ask us anything,” Mom tells me.
“Did you want me?”
“What? Evan, why would you ask us that? Of course, we wanted you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it come out quite like that. I know you love me, but why did you wait almost ten years to have me? Was I an accident?”
“How long has this been worrying you?” Mom asks.
“Since I was a kid,” I admit with a shrug.
Mom and Dad share a look, then Mom takes my hand, “We were very young when we married. Our parents were against it for that reason and did not help us at all. It was hard the first few years trying to make ends meet. We were both working two jobs and trying to take college classes. We wanted a baby but knew we couldn’t afford to have one.
When we were twenty-four, we both graduated from college.
It took a little longer for us since we couldn’t go full-time.
We started trying as soon as we both got a good job.
We lost the first two babies, and the doctor encouraged us not to try again, but we refused to listen.
When I got pregnant with you, we were elated, but terrified.
We didn’t tell anyone, even our parents, until I was twenty weeks.
I didn’t have any issues with the pregnancy or birth.
After you were born, we decided to be grateful for our one perfect child and not try again. ”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”
“You didn’t. We lost the babies very early in my pregnancy. It didn’t make the loss easy, but we have you and don’t dwell on what we lost.”
“Did you want a big family?”
“Not really,” Dad answers. “We talked about having two children, but always said we’d be happy with one.”
“Thank you for sharing that with me.”
“You can ask us anything. We will always be honest with you.”
And now I feel guilty for keeping secrets from them, one I want to tell them so much. I can’t wait until I can share Isaac with them. The other one, I’m happy to keep to myself. No one needs to know about my debt.