#deannaj0

I went out early this morning to get some groceries for the morning. I had really exciting news to tell Max. Yesterday I went to the hospital for an ultrasound to check on our new set of twins. I haven't told him yet that I am pregnant because I wanted to make sure that it would be at the right time. Right now I am at 6 weeks into the first trimester. I get to the second floor of the apartment that I share with Max and shuffle through my purse to look for the keys. At first I can't find them, I set down the bag of groceries only to find that I dropped them. I bend down to reach the key near the door mat and find a corner of a piece of paper sticking out from underneath. I pull the paper out and unfold it; it's a written letter to Max. I roll my eyes thinking that it's probably from a fan. I read the first few sentences, "Dear Maxie, the last 5 weeks have really been something magical. I hope to see you again soon and have another special night (if you know what I mean)." That just about had for me. I unlock the door and storm in on Max.

"Hey, Dee! Where's the food?" Max asked her.

            "Food isn't important anymore" I told him.

            "What do you mean? I thought you went out to get groceries because you wanted to make a nice breakfast this morning. You wrote that down on this sticky you left on our bathroom mirror."

            "Why would bastards get a nice breakfast meal?" I mumble more towards myself.

            "I'm sorry. Am I missing something here?" Max asks.

            "No. Why would you be missing something?" I snap back.

            "Then why are you so pissed off?" Max asks sternly.

            I hold up the letter that was left for Max, "was this left for me to see? Or did you think I was idiotic enough to not notice this under the mat? Actually don't even answer me, because I wouldn't have noticed if I didn't drop my keys by the door mat. You know... if you don't want to be with me, then all you had to do was leave. Not just pull some shitty move like this. This is really low. Even for you."

            "Wait... what letter?" Max asks out of confusion.

            I raise it up in front of his face for him to see it.

            Max gives me his expression of his ‘shit-I-just-got-caught’ face. I shake my head in disapproval. I made the executive decision to move. Grabbed a bag and started throwing some of my stuff in it, as much as I can. Anything important, from the house; the bathroom, living room, kitchen, and bedroom. Although I was upset, I wasn't going to cry. I didn't want to show him that he has that power over me.

~*~☆~*~ 

            It’s been six years since Max and I broke up, I have two beautiful young boys, Gabriel and Noah, and I have a shitty job as a waitress. Today the babysitter bailed so my little rugrats had to come to work with me. The boys have been doing such a great job at behaving today, which is a shocker because typically they can never sit still, and the almost always ask who their father is. I knew I’d never see Max again, so what the point of answering their questions?

            “Hey, Deanna, I just sat a party of five. I’m pretty sure at least one of them is single.” Amy, the hostess, winks at me and then points to the table where five boys sat. I nodded and walked over to their table.

            “Hey guys I’m Deanna and I’ll be your waitress, can I start you off with something to drink?” I smiled and looked at the boys; that’s when I froze. Max was one of the five.

            “Dee?” His eyes lit up.

            “Hey… Max.” I sighed and looked around. “So as I was saying—“ just then Noah and Gabe ran up to me.

            “Mommy, we’re hungry!” Gabe whined.

            “Okay, I’ll be right there okay boys, let me just serve this table.” I pushed them away towards the table they had taken over for the day.

            “Hey Max those boys kind of look like you!” The curly haired boy Max was sitting with pointed at my children. That’s when I knew I had to leave.

            “How about I start you boys off with some water and then come back later.”

            “Dee, who are those boys?” Max looked at me suspiciously.

            “Uh… Those are my sons. Noah, and Gabe.” I looked at Amy for help who was now secretly listening in on this conversation.

            “How old are they?”

            “Six.”

            “Didn’t you two break up six years ago?” The youngest looking one asked.

            “Yeah! You said it was the biggest mistake of your life!” Curly nudged Max and raised his eyebrows towards me, “you know, Max is single right now, maybe you could try this thing out.”

            “Seeing as those are most definitely Max’s children.” The young one grinned.

            “Are they my children?” Max asked.

            “Yeah...” I scratched the back of my neck.

            “Why didn’t you tell me?”

            “I was going to tell you, but then I found that note from that girl, and… well you know the rest.” I sighed.

            “Can I meet them? And then maybe we could talk about getting back together? I’d love to be there to make up for the things I’ve missed, Dee.” Max looked up at me with his beautiful eyes, the same eyes my children now have.

You glance up at your friend. “Ugh, there’s that big party at my friend’s sorority tomorrow night, and I don’t have a date to go with.”

“So? You don’t need a date to go to a party,” Sam points out, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it up in front of him.

“No, you don’t understand. I told my friend I have a date for the party because she kept making fun of me for being single and if I show up without one and have to explain I never had a date to begin with.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t lie next time,” Sam says dismissively, clearly not understanding the desperation of your situation.

“Sam, help me, I don’t want to be the base of all jokes in my friend group for the next month, I need a date! Don’t you have anyone you could set me up with? Just for one night. Please.”

Sam rolls his eyes and sighs. “Fine. I think I might have someone.”

And that’s how, thirty-six hours later, you’re sipping anxiously from your glass of water while you wait for Sam’s friend at a café. You’re with Sam and Jessica, and he’s flipping through a textbook while she reads over his shoulder.

You’re frankly not expecting much. A guy as geeky and smart as Sam with none of the good looks. So you’re pleasantly surprised when an attractive young guy with neatly-combed blond-brown hair approaches the table, pulls out a chair, and sits down.

“Hey, Sam, Jessica. I’m assuming you’re Y/N?” he asks, turning to you.

You clear your throat. “Yeah. That’s me.”

“Wow,” he says, looking you up and down. You blush, tugging down your knee-length skirt and brushing imaginary specks off your blouse. Compared to him, you feel like a slob. He’s wearing a white button-up shirt and nice slacks, looking the part of the lawyer or politician he’s probably going to be someday.

“Thanks for being my date, you know, so last minute and everything,” you say, a little bit flustered by the impressed look that’s still not leaving his face.

“Oh, it’s not a problem. Always glad to help a damsel in distress. Sam, Jess, are you guys going to the party?” he asks, turning to the other two at the table. They both glance up from the textbook.

“What? Oh, no,” Sam says, shaking his head. 

So, an hour later it’s just the two of you who are at the party. You show Brady off to the friend who you had lied to about having a boyfriend, and then he and you go and stand awkwardly in the corner.

“So, you don’t have to stick around or whatever. You can go find some of your friends or something. I just had to show my friend that we were, you know, together—I mean, that I had a date, even if it’s not actually—”

“We could change that, if you’d like,” Brady interrupts.

“Wait, what?” you ask, looking up into soft blue eyes, a little bit flustered.

“I’m free tomorrow night, do you want to go out, maybe get some dinner?”

He waits for your response as you open your mouth and then close it and then open it again. Finally you pull yourself together enough to say, “You want to go out… with me?”

“Yeah,” he replies, a smile of amusement flashing onto his face from your inability to comprehend what he’s saying.

Well, you’d thought it was an incredible act of charity for such a smart and good-looking guy to pretend to be your boyfriend for one night, but to legitimately want to go out with you? You hadn’t expected that. But of course you wanted to go. You’d never met anyone else that drew you to them so much. He has such an air of maturity and intelligence around him, you can’t help but be attracted.

“I would love to,” you respond, giving him his answer finally.

“In the meantime, we always have the rest of tonight to get to know each other better,” he suggests.

“Yeah, totally,” you say, smiling.

So, you spend the rest of the party drinking (not enough to get drunk, just to get a slight buzz), dancing (more just standing awkwardly and swaying to the music a little bit), and once you’re too embarrassed to keep that up, you and he just sit on the couch and watch the other party-goers and talk: about school, and mutual friends, and movies that had just come out.

After a few hours, you’re starting to get tired. You don’t have anything to do tomorrow, but it is three in the morning, and you’re not used to staying up so late, what with uni classes and everything to wake up early for usually.

You yawn. “I’ve gotta go home, I’m getting tired.”

“Yeah, me too,” Brady replies, also yawning. “Let me walk you home.”

“It’s fine, I only live a couple blocks away,” you say dismissively, yawning again. Damn, yawning is infectious.

“It’s no trouble, really. I just want you to be safe.”

“Oh. Well, sure, I guess. If you insist.” You shrug on your sweater and head out with Brady.

It’s pretty cool outside, probably in the low fifties, not cold enough to be awful but just chilly enough to be uncomfortable. “Ooh, I’m cold,” you say with a shiver.

Without saying a word, Brady wraps an arm around your waist and pulls him closer to him. Your eyes widen in surprise for a moment but then you relax. He’s warm and a nice shield against the chilliness of the night, and you can’t say having an arm around you isn’t incredibly comforting. “Better?” he asks.

“Absolutely,” you say, glancing up at him with a smile.

It’s so peaceful at this time in the morning that neither of you want to interrupt the quiet, so you don’t. You just walk the five minutes to your dorm in silence, the only sound in the air that of your and his soft breathing.

Finally, when you’re close to the front door of your dorm, you nod towards it. “That’s my stop,” you say, and the two of you stop when you reach the door.

Brady drops his arm from your waist, instantly exposing you to the cool air again, but you barely notice because now he’s taken both your hands in his and turned to face you.

“Tonight was really fun,” he says, looking into your eyes with a smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“For me, too,” you reply, a shiver running through you when he strokes the back of your hands with his thumbs.

“So… tomorrow night, then?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll have Sam give you my number. How does dinner and a movie sound?” you suggest.

“Perfect.” The hint of a smile on his face broadens to a sincere, full one.

“Well… I guess this is where we say goodbye?” you ask softly, your heart racing because he’s standing so close to you. You’re hoping for a goodnight kiss, but that’s a little ambitious for a first, not-even-real date, isn’t it?

Brady’s silent for a few moments. “Yes, I suppose it is.”

You’re wondering if you should just go into your dorm, but his eyes are still locked on yours, and you can’t pull yourself away. Slowly, he leans in, his eyes closing, and you close your eyes, too. His lips meet yours, and they feel warm and safe. Still, you feel happy butterflies flapping their wings furiously in your stomach for the moment longer that the two of you sustain the kiss, and then Brady pulls away.

He grins at you. “See you tomorrow night.”

“See you then, Brady,” you say, smiling back and waving slightly as you go back into your dorm building.