Apples & Oranges (The This & That Series) (23 page)

BOOK: Apples & Oranges (The This & That Series)
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I gulped, but didn’t break eye contact with him.

He acknowledged me with a nod. “And so, because what I need to say is so important, I went and begged
Yiayia for the recipe, to give to the brides’ mother as bribery. Apparently Yiayia’s Melomakarona has beaten Mrs. Katopokaus’ recipe two years in a row, and she’s ready for the streak to end. And because Yiayia knew how dire the situation was, she agreed to allow this. So, Mrs. Katopokaus, here you go. Use it wisely.”

Demo held a tattered note card out and forced a smile. A titter went through the crowd, and a very satisfied looking woman wearing a corsage the size of a hubcap stepped forward to collect it.

As soon as the ballroom went quiet again, Demo cleared his throat and wiped some sweat off of his brow. “So… uh… I’ll make this quick. Because I’m not much for public speaking, and frankly, the woman I’m trying to speak
to
just told me to take a flying leap, so she could call security on me at any time. She’s back by the dessert table… wearing an apron.”

The wedding guests all chuckled and looked around, searching for me. My face started to scald, so I started walking backwards towards the kitchen door. A pair of small hands grabbed my shoulders from behind. “Oh, no you don’t,”
Lexie whispered. “You get to stay out here and listen to every word he has to say.”

I glanced over my shoulder. “You were in on this.”

Her brown eyes filled, and she grinned at me. “I love you, Mar. Of course I was in on this.”

“I… I love you, too.” The words tumbled out of my mouth, and as soon as they were out in the open air between us, I felt self-conscious. “I don’t know what to say. I thought you were being a bitch, I—”

She gave me a squeeze, then pushed me forward. “Don’t be so mushy, you big sap.”

Demo’s eyes met mine again, and he locked one of his hands on the microphone stand. “Look, I know everyone here is ready to cut into that cake, but here’s the deal. I met the woman I love a few weeks ago, and she’s been the only thing I could think about since. She’s everything I never thought I wanted in a woman. She’s sophisticated. She prefers fine dining over a cold beer and fishing. She’s the opposite of me in every way, and yet—for some reason I don’t understand, and may never understand—she is the perfect fit.”

Suddenly there was no one else in the ballroom. Just Demo and me. Everyone else just faded into a blurry background image like a chalk drawing in the rain.

“The problem is, she’s afraid to be with me, because her friend—
er, her
family—
went through something traumatic recently.” Demo’s eyes softened, and the corners of his mouth pulled downward. “And between that, and a recent and, uh, unexpected turn of events in my life… she’s scared to commit to me. She’s afraid that if she gives in, and agrees to let me love her for the rest of her life, something will go wrong, and it won’t be easy peasy anymore.”

“Did he just say
easy peasy
?” Lexie whispered behind me.

I ignored her.

“The thing is, life isn’t all about passion and romance and all that crap.” Demo tugged a hand through his dark hair, making it flop across the forehead in the front, and stand adorably upright in the back. “It’s about finding the person who will take the ride with you. It’s about being with the same person through all the ebbs and flows, and the great things and the shitty days.” His eyes widened. “Oh, sorry. I mean the
rough days
. My parents and grandparents all found their perfect mate, and so did my siblings. Paul and Muriel, you’ve found yours. Isn’t that what it’s all about? Finding that person who loves us even when we’re a complete train wreck, but still doesn’t want to get off at the next stop?”

Everyone laughed, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even breathe. He wasn’t giving me up without a fight, and I no longer wanted him too. I’d actually f
ound my
one
person. The apple to my orange, and was I willing to give that up again?

Oh, hell to the no.

I started weaving my way through the crowd, sidestepping guests and members of the bridal party as Demo started to talk again.

“I knew as soon as I saw her that she was the one I was meant to take the ride with.” His voice thickened and he pressed his lips together. “I haven’t felt that way for a long time. Years.
Maybe ever. But I’ve found her now, and I’m not willing to give that up again.”

“I’m not either,” I called, nearly stepping on the bride’s train. “Oh, sorry.”

She turned to me and smiled. “You’d better get up there.”

Demo smiled, his white teeth gleaming and the wrinkles around his eyes in full force. That smile was going to be my own personal kryptonite for the rest of my life. “I don’t care what the future will bring. I don’t care how great or not great our life will be. The only thing I care about is spending it with you, Marisol Vargas.”

I emerged from the crowd and stood just a few feet apart from him, my heart pounding in my chest like a snare drum.

“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice cracking. “I was wrong. I shouldn’t have—”

“Shhh.” Demo reached into the pocket of his coveralls. When his hand emerged with a little black velvet box, the crowd erupted into cheers. “I have a question to ask.”

My heart screeched to a halt inside of my chest, and I froze. This was the very moment that I’d lived in fear of for twenty years. After watching my mother get marched down the aisle more times than most people cleaned their ovens, the idea of marriage had taken on a slightly unattractive feel.

Trapped. Tied down. Off the market. Taken.

Fight or flight! Get the hell out of
Dodge!

But I remained standing. Even if my mind screamed at me, warning me of impending doom, I knew one thing for sure. I couldn’t live without Demo an
y more than he could live without me. This was it. The moment I’d been dreading for more than half my life.

The moment I settled down.

“Marisol Vargas? Will you make me the happiest man in the world and marry me?”

The entire ballroom of people focused on me.
Over a thousand eyes honing in on me to witness my reaction. Could I really do this? Could I really settle down and spend the rest of my life with a man who smelled like oil and sweat?

Why, yes. Yes, I could.

My face split into a grin I couldn’t hide. “Of course I will.”

 

The end.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Epilogue

Demo

 

             
“It’s a girl!” Fletcher cheered happily, emerging from between Stacia’s knees with a blood-covered screaming bundle. “Congrats, Demo. You’re a father.”

             
Flashes of light popped in my peripheral vision, and for a second, I was dizzy.

             
I was a father.
I
was a
father.
To a
girl
, no less.

             
I needed to buy a shotgun.

             
“Is she okay? Is she okay?” Stacia wept.

             
I looked down at the sweaty fingers laced with mine and realized I couldn’t feel my hand anymore. “Yes,” I told her, pulling my hand free and wiggling my fingers. “Yes, she looks fine.”

             
“She’s more than fine!” boomed the chubby nurse who was now wiping my daughter—my
daughter
—off on a warming bed. “Ten toes, ten fingers. And bellowing like a baby elephant. She’s perfect.”

             
Stacia beamed, collapsing back onto the bed with a relieved sigh. “Thank you.” Tears rolled down her face as she looked up at me. “Thank you so much.”

             
I bent down and pressed a kiss to her sweat-slicked forehead. “You’re welcome. Thank
you.

             
We gazed at each other. Pride, and joy, and terror, and elation all rolled into one sappy look between new parents. The air in the room felt different as I pulled it into my lungs. Cleaner, fresher, almost ethereal. Like all of the planets had aligned and earth stopped rotating for just a moment while we welcomed our child on.

             
I was a father.

             
“And thank you.” Stacia’s voice was weak. She looked beyond exhausted as she turned and looked up to the person standing on the other side of the bed, holding her other hand. “Thank you so much.”

             
My eyes rolled up to Marisol’s face, which was pale as she stared, wide eyed, at the baby across the room.

“You okay, babe?”
I asked.

             
She met my gaze and blinked. “That was unbelievable.”

             
I laughed. “It sure was.”

             
“I’m glad it’s over.” Marisol focused on Stacia, her eyes still wide as half dollars. “I can’t believe your body just did that. I can’t believe you survived that.”

             
Fletcher looked up from whatever the hell he was doing—I didn’t even want to know—and said, “She did an amazing job. Just like you will someday.”

             
Marisol narrowed her eyes at me, even though her mouth still pricked upward. “Don’t get any ideas, Romeo.”

             
She never ceased to amaze me. She was the only woman in the world who could watch something that clearly repulsed her, and still look like a Playboy model after. But that wasn’t why I loved her as much as I did. I loved Marisol because she’s everything I’m not. Creative, determined, confident. Every personality trait I lacked, she had in spades, and when we were together, we made one perfect entity.

             
“Why don’t you let her get through the wedding first,” Stacia peered around my shoulder to where the nurse was wrapping the baby in what looked like yards and yards of pink blanket. “Where’s Toby? Is he all right?”

             
Toby, who wasn’t a half bad guy, considering the fact that I’d fixed Stacia up with one of my clients, peeked from around his camcorder. “I’m all right. You did so good, sweetheart, it was incredible” He gave me a thumbs up. “Got it all on tape, Dad.”

             
My stomach hurtled. “Thanks. I think.”

Toby dropped the camera onto a nearby chair and squeezed past me to envelop
Stacia in a hug. Tears leaked from her eyes as they rocked. “When can I hold her?” she asked, sniffling.

             
“Now.” The nurse brought the bundle to Stacia and gently rested it on her chest. Little eyes covered in clear gel blinked up at me, shooting a shock of emotion straight to my heart.

             
“Hello there,” I whispered.

             
“My God, she’s incredible,” Marisol said, her voice breaking. She bent down and pressed a kiss to Stacia’s forehead, in the same spot where I’d kissed her. “Thank you for this gift. Thank you so very much.”

             
Her engagement ring caught the bright light from above the bed, and my breath caught. Our wedding was in one month. We’d pushed it back long enough that our daughter would be old enough to attend, and so that Stacia and Toby could come, too. Marisol hadn’t wanted a big wedding, but once her mother, Annalise, got wind of our engagement, she called Spokane’s premier event planner, and it snowballed from there.

             
I didn’t care. It didn’t matter to me if we had a damn three-ring circus, so long as I got to dedicate myself to the woman I loved by the end of it all. Oh, and so long as Yiayia headed up the catering for the reception. Which, of course, she did.

             
Marisol fit right into my motley crew of a family, and moved into my house on Lincoln Lane three weeks after my proposal. We earned enough money from the sale of her fancy house in the gated neighborhood to fix up my old house pretty nicely, and even managed to do a few things around Yiayia’s house, at the insistence of Mar, who said “living without central air is just plain barbaric.”

             
My life used to be filled with anger and isolation. I never thought that finding love was a possibility for me, because I’d rejected so many chances in my years since my debunked wedding to Belinda. I figured God was punishing me for kicking my best friend’s ass in His church, and that I was destined to a life of mooching meals off of my relatives, then suffering through heartburn alone at home.

             
Now I was about to be married to a caterer who insisted on naked omelet Saturdays.

             
Score.

             
Add in the fact that Stacia had agreed to a 50/50 split on parenting duties, so we would raise our daughter in a very modern American—er, scratch that. Make it a Greek-Latino-American—family… and I was the happiest man alive.

             
Marisol looked at me, tears dragging her makeup down her face. “I can’t believe we have a daughter.”

             
“I know.” I grinned. “It feels surreal.”

             
“Surreal?” Marisol squeaked. “It feels out of this freaking world!” She put her hand on the baby’s head, gently swiping her damp hair. “We’re parents.” She glanced at Stacia and Toby. “All of us. Holy shit. We’re all
parents
.”

             
I laughed and wiped tears from my eyes. “That we are.”

             
Gazing at Marisol, I felt my heart tighten inside of my chest. She was so incredibly gorgeous, sometimes it hurt to look at her. It was like looking directly at the sun. Which was fitting, because there were no words to describe how much light she’d brought into my life. When I looked at her, I saw years—decades—into our future, surrounded by droves of children and grandchildren. I saw days spent arguing over the cable bill, and nights spend making up in each other’s arms. I saw noisy family meals peppered with Greek and Spanish conversations, and impromptu make out sessions while weeding the flower gardens in the summer.

             
There were times when I wondered how I’d managed to go so many years without her in my life. Being without her felt like being void of oxygen.

             
I crossed around the bed and enveloped Marisol in my arms.

             
“I love you,” I whispered into her sweet smelling hair. “I love you so much.”

             
Her tears soaked the skin on the side of my neck. “I love you, too.”

Together we wept like any new parents would.

Of course we did. Hell, we’d just met our daughter.

 

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