All the usual…JE creation…not mine…great deal of envy on my part for that fact.
Jenny (JenRar) you absolutely rock! Thank you for your hard work as the beta on this story. I don't have words for what it means to me.
Chapter 10 – Meet the Parents
I took Stephanie's hand in mine and rested it on my leg. I knew she was nervous about meeting my family, but I had to stop the fidgeting before it drove me nuts. I ran my thumb over her knuckles, intending it to be a reassuring gesture, and heard her let out a long, slow breath.
I stopped at the last stop sign before my parent's street and turned to face her. "They're going to love you. There is no reason to be nervous."
"Do I look okay? Should I have worn different shoes?" she asked in a rare show of her uncertainty.
If there was one thing Stephanie was always confident about, it was the shoes she wore. And the black heels she'd slipped her feet into, which matched the lightly patterned wrap-around skirt that stopped mid-way between her knees and ankles, had made me think that all I had to do was unbutton two small pieces of plastic, and I could unwrap that skirt and have her standing in front of me wearing only those gravity defying shoes.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard to pull myself away from that slippery slope of thought and forced myself to reply, "I love those shoes. In fact, after we get back to Trenton, I'm going to want a private showing of you in just those shoes."
She nodded when I finished speaking, so I turned right and drove the seventy-five feet to my parent's driveway. I watched as she took in the appearance of the ranch house where I'd spent most of my childhood in Newark. There was nothing spectacular about this place; in fact, I'd volunteered to buy my parents something bigger and nicer on several occasions, but they refused to move, saying one day, I'd have a home of my own and realize it was a lot more important than the house that contained it. That had never made sense to me, as it sounded a lot like double speak, but I had a feeling it was important and looked forward to the day when the truth of it hit me.
I turned off the car and looked at Stephanie, who was taking in the house with a more relaxed look on her face. She picked up her bag with her iPad, tablet, and pen in it and said, "It feels strange to be visiting parents and no one is at the door watching us."
I glanced across the front of the house and pointed to the curtains in the living room, giving Stephanie a chance to follow my finger.
She then looked back to me. "Is someone at the window?" Her instincts always impressed me.
"Abuela Rosa," I informed her. "She doesn't move quickly, so she tends to sit in her winged back chair next to the window and pull the curtain back so she doesn't miss anything. I'm sure she knows we're here and is wondering why we haven't gotten out of the car."
Stephanie smiled, before her brow furrowed and she asked, "Why did you bring me here? I mean, why am I meeting your parents now?"
"I want you to know me, and that means understanding where I came from to understand how I became who I am now. I can't tell you everything about my past, but this, I can easily share, so I wanted to share it with you. Plus, you are the most important person in my life, and I wanted my parents to have a chance to know you, too. They've worried about me for years, that I was too closed off and secretive. I think getting to know you will give them a little hope that I might not be alone for the rest of my life." I wanted to be sure she understood how significant this was.
She looked at me for a moment, and I wondered if I'd lost her with such a long speech. "Thank you," she finally said softly, before swallowing and saying, "Thank you," once more, but a little firmer. Something in the explanation had touched her, which pleased me.
She opened her door, and I followed suit, meeting her at the front of the Turbo to take her hand, pulling it up to kiss her knuckles laced between mine. I rang the doorbell and waited until the door swung open.
My father grinned at us. "Carlos!" he nearly shouted, before embracing me. Apparently, I'd let too much time pass between visits, as the enthusiasm of my father's greeting usually grew the longer I was away.
"Papi," I replied, returning his hug and wondering if he'd shrunk since the last time I'd seen him.
"You get bigger every time you come home. Whatever your Tia is feeding you is doing you good. Perhaps she could send some home to me," he joked, feeling the difference in our sizes as well.
I pulled back and smiled at him. "I'm sure she'd be willing to, but do you really want Mama and Tia Ella fighting over whose cooking is better?"
"I don't want to see them fight, but I wouldn't mind a little competition, if I got to eat the weapons of their war," he returned, rubbing his slightly rounded stomach.
"Estephania!" He turned to Stephanie and held his arms out to softly grip her shoulders. "We are so glad to have you in our home. After hearing about you for years, we wondered if Carlos would ever come to his senses and bring you completely into his life." Then he pulled her to him in a tight embrace.
I watched her closely to see if it bothered her. My family was very affectionate, which I knew was a stark contrast to hers, who rarely touched.
When he pulled back, he made eye contact, before saying, "Please come in. My wife is in the kitchen and wants a chance to meet you, as well."
He began to let go of her, but Stephanie took his hand in hers and said, "Thank you for such a warm welcome. I'm very happy to be here."
Papi took her by the hand and pulled her toward the kitchen. I followed along, wanting to give her a chance to learn about my family, but not wanting to get far enough away that they could overwhelm her right off the bat.
As soon as the swinging door to the kitchen opened, my mother spun around and her face lit up. She walked over to me first and patted my cheek with her warm hand. "Carlos, you have been gone too long. A mother needs to see her children to remind her heart they are well."
"I've missed you, too, Mama," I promised her, knowing what she was implying. Then I leaned down and kissed her cheek, receiving a kiss in return.
As soon as I stood up, my father pulled Stephanie toward Mama, who took Steph's hand from my father and patted it between hers. "Welcome to our home, Estephania. We are so glad to have you here. You brought our Carlos home to visit, which warms my heart."
"Thank you for having me," Stephanie replied quietly, a perfect showing of her 'Burg manners.
Then my mother pulled her forward and hugged her tightly, placing a kiss on Stephanie's cheek, before letting her go. "You are such a lovely girl," Mama commented, pulling back. "Come sit with me in the kitchen while I cook, and we can get to know each other."
Stephanie smiled, about to accept, when Papi interrupted. "First, she must meet Abuela Rosa."
Mama pretended to frown, before saying, "My mother will talk non-stop. When you get tired of her ramblings, come back and keep me company. We can talk about Carlos while he is stuck out there listening to his Abuela."
"I'd like that," Stephanie agreed, before looking at me with a smile.
As much as I hated it when my mother tried to tell embarrassing stories from my childhood, I could see the idea made Stephanie happy, so I nodded that it would be all right.
Papi took Stephanie's hand again and led her to the living room, where Abuela Rosa was sitting in her chair, knitting needles in hand, pretending to be focused on her task, despite the fact that I knew she'd been watching us and listening to every word that was spoken.
"Abuela Rosa, this is Carlos' Estephania," he presented her to my grandmother formally.
Stephanie stepped forward and smiled. "It's so nice to meet you."
"Sit, dear," she commanded in a way that only old people whose every wish is obeyed can pull off.
Stephanie sat in the chair next to Abuela Rosa's, and my grandmother set her knitting down to take Stephanie's hand in hers. I knew that was a bad sign. She only set her needles down when she planned on talking for a long time. I sat on the loveseat across from them next to my father and tried to come up with reasons to interrupt so that Stephanie could return to my mother.
Before I could come up with anything, Abuela Rosa started talking. "Carlos is a good man, si?"
My grandmother could speak English, but she often mixed the occasional Spanish word in, concerning me that Stephanie wouldn't be able to read her lips.
Fortunately, she'd become a good guesser and was gaining enough confidence in her skills to wager a guess about what was being said. She looked at me quickly and smiled, before facing my grandmother again to respond, "Yes, he is a very good man."
Abuela Rosa beamed at her response. "He loves you; he has for years. Did you know?"
I'd forgotten how incredibly direct Abuela Rosa was. Stephanie didn't seem the least bit put off, despite my minor attack of nerves over how this was going to play out. If Abuela Rosa was only warming up, when she got to her hard hitting questions, I was going to need a drink.
Stephanie collected her thoughts, before responding, "I think we both loved each other for years and hoped that it would be returned one day."
"Ah!" Abuela Rosa patted her hand again. "He is Cuban. He loves as a Cuban man does."
What in the hell did that mean? It's not like my heritage made me some freak when it came to knowing how to treat a woman.
"How is that different from the way an Italian man loves?" Stephanie asked smoothly, without a single element of challenge or defiance in her voice.
Abuela Rosa smiled. "It's forever," she answered first, and I had to admit I liked that answer. "And it's…con su corazón todo."
Stephanie's confusion was evident on her face. She looked to me for help, so I translated, "It's Spanish for 'with his whole heart'."
"Oh," Steph responded. "I'm sorry, I don't understand Spanish."
Abuela rubbed circles on Stephanie's hand and pressed on. "No matter. You understand him, no?"
"Yes, I understand him," she replied with an air of confidence that made me believe her.
The whole purpose of this visit was to help her better understand me, but I realized that she already got me. Somehow, she'd observed and listened and learned enough to know me – better than I might even know myself. And in knowing me, she'd seen something that seemed worthy of loving and holding to herself. I'd never felt as honored as I did in realizing that fact.
"Si, but it is not easy to love a Cuban man. They can be stubborn," she warned, glancing at me and lifting her hand to shake a finger in my direction. "Especially my Carlos."
Stephanie smiled, probably thoroughly enjoying my grandmother getting on me. "I have a tendency to be a little stubborn, too," she admitted in return, taking the focus off of me gracefully.
"Ah, you will need that to stand your ground with him. You cannot let him get away with anything," she instructed, pretending to be firm, but her dark eyes were obviously enjoying this chance to make me uncomfortable.
"I think he could be given the same advice about me," Stephanie replied, enjoying herself, as well.
"Then I am happy for you both. I have heard of you. People talk when they think old ears are not listening, and I've seen him speak of you to his hermano. You are good for him. You give him purpose and make his eyes smile," she droned on.
"I think the same thing could be said of the effect he's had on me," Steph countered once more.
"Ah, this is a good match. You will be happy together," Abuela Rosa predicted.
I held my breath, hoping she wasn't going to tell Stephanie that she had the gift of sensing the future and scare her on her visit here.
"We are," Stephanie assured her. "We are very happy."
I considered her words and felt their truth. We'd been together officially only a matter of weeks, and in that time, we'd been through a great deal, at least in the standard definition of what should happen in a new relationship. But despite what might have destroyed other couples, we had managed to settle into a routine and a comfortable connection that did make me very happy. I'd never imagined or even hoped that was possible for me, but there it was.
"Si,"Abuela Rosa agreed. "And you will bring me the most beautiful nietos."
Stephanie looked at me, and I mouthed the word grandchildren to her. Then I moved to the edge of my seat as her smile faded and she turned back to my grandmother.
"Abuela Rosa, I had an accident a few weeks ago that took away my ability to hear. Since I can't hear a child, I don't know if trying to have a baby is good idea for us. Without my hearing, I don't think I would be a good mother."
We hadn't discussed children – honestly, who did within the first few weeks of a new relationship? – but I could see that admitting this to my grandmother was hard for Stephanie. What I didn't know was if it was difficult because Stephanie didn't like to admit to not being able to do something, or because she'd had a secret yearning for a baby and felt it could now never be a reality. Either way, something was hurting the woman I loved, and I felt powerless to make it go away. I was about to stand up and take Steph to the kitchen, but my father put his hand on my arm to stop me.
"No," Abuela Rosa disagreed. "You cannot hear, but you can listen. Children do not need to have their noise heard to be loved. They need to have their heart touched, and you can do that, just as you did for Carlos. You have no ears, but you have a big heart. That is all you need. The rest is just...detalles. You are a good mother or no based on what you do, on how you love, not on what you hear."
Stephanie was quiet as she thought about what had been told to her. I couldn't have agreed with my Abuela's words more, and I hoped they reached that part of Stephanie that had been upset by the thought of not having children. I'd always said it wasn't possible for me to have another child because of the danger they would be in as mine, but in reality, that was just a front to throw up as an excuse to keep myself without any entanglements. In truth, now that I had Stephanie, I could easily picture a more traditional family for us. I don't know that I could go all the way to driving a minivan, but I could definitely see me attending soccer games and teaching him to protect himself.
Dios! What if we had a girl? I loved Julie, but not seeing her very often made it easier to distance myself from the thought of her dating or even dealing with bullies on the playground as a youngster. I looked at Steph's beautiful curls and thought of a little girl looking up at me with her blue eyes. Stephanie looked over at me just as that thought crossed my mind, and I found myself longing for something I'd sworn I'd never want. We looked at each other wordlessly for a few seconds – no masks to hide behind, just the confusion of recognizing there were desires there that neither of us had really considered before and uncertainty of what we should do with this new found knowledge.
Abuela Rosa snapped the connection by tapping Stephanie's cheek as my mother had done earlier. "There is time," she commented once she had Steph's attention. "You were not meant to be held back thinking of what you can't do. You were meant to fly with all the things you can do. Learn your own heart, and follow that – ignore the voices that try to disagree with what you know to be true."
"The old woman is surprisingly good at this, isn't she?" Papi asked me softly.
I nodded, seeing how much Abuela Rosa's words were impacting Stephanie.
"Dinner is ready. Why don't you all come to the table?" Mama called from the doorway.
Abuela patted Steph's hand again and asked, "Why don't you give me a hand, and we'll join everyone else at the table. My daughter's been cooking all day, and I'm tired of only smelling it. I want to eat it, too."
"I agree," Stephanie replied, taking a deep breath as we moved toward the dining room.
My mother had clearly outdone herself, trying to impress Stephanie. I should have told her not to do that. Steph loved food and would have enjoyed anything Mama prepared. There was no reason to turn it into a buffet of Cuban food to expose her to everything at once.
I put Stephanie to my left, which had her sitting next to Abuela Rosa and across from my mother. We all crossed ourselves and bowed our heads as my father said a fast Spanish grace, and then the madness of passing around dishes began. I'd grabbed a small tablet from the kitchen on my way in to eat and put it on the table between us. As each dish was passed to me, I'd write what it was and a quick description so Stephanie could better guess what she might like.
When the movement slowed down, she took her first bite of a chicken and rice with beans. I tried not to stare, but I kept her in my peripheral vision to better gauge what she liked and didn't like in order to pass it along to Ella for future reference. When she let out one of her trademark moans, I knew we had a winner.
Papi laughed one of his full laughs and hit the table with his hand, getting Stephanie's attention, before he said, "I like her. Anyone who knows how to appreciate food is welcome at our table anytime." When he noticed Stephanie was still watching him, he lifting his hand to motion toward her plate and encouraged her, "Eat, eat."
By the time we were finished with dinner, Stephanie had tasted everything and had seemed to love it all. My mother was practically glowing from the praise of her cooking and was obviously riding the buzz of being the center of attention to the point that the quiet woman who raised me was nowhere to be found. In her place was a giddy woman incapable of editing a thing she said, causing her to continuously overshare embarrassing stories from my childhood.
While I enjoyed hearing Stephanie laugh, I was beginning to tire of feeling like I was on display for all to laugh over. She must have sensed it, because she touched my hand and said, "Thank you for this. It was nice to see you as a normal man for the night."
"I've always been a normal man," I replied quietly as my family continued to speak around us, ignoring our conversation to give us the illusion of privacy.
"Not to me," she disagreed. "To me, you've always been extraordinary."
I smiled tenderly at her, wishing that could be true so that I might feel worthy of the look of adoration she was giving me. "Only in the way I love you," I replied, convinced it was true.
"Maybe that's it," she accepted my words.
When dinner was over, my mother and Stephanie cleared off the dishes and brought out coffee and tropical fruit for dessert. I could see her delay briefly, before picking up her small fork and beginning the naturally sweet ending to her meal.
Before I could explain it, my mother reached out on the table top to get Stephanie's attention to share, "My husband is diabetic, so I stopped making desserts after the children grew up to keep him for indulging when he shouldn't. Now, I only make something on special occasions like Christmas, birthdays, and wedding celebrations."
"Subtle, Mama," I pretended to complain. When I'd first thought to bring Stephanie here, I'd had no ideas of marriage, but after only one night around my parents, I was being forced to admit that marriage sounded like a great idea, and I might even want to throw kids in the mix, too. Damn, I was going to have to avoid this place for a while, or there's no telling what I might discover next.
Stephanie looked at me and asked, "Is that why you don't eat dessert?"
"Mostly," I answered. My father had type one diabetes, which I obviously had not inherited, but I still didn't want to tempt fate by indulging too often. Plus, I had put too much time into developing my body into a weapon, and sweets didn't represent a great enough temptation to make me work even harder at keeping up my physical edge.
We spent the next hour comfortably talking around the dining room table. When I saw Abuela begin to yawn, I figured it was a good reason to end the evening for us, as well. Besides, after sharing her with my family all evening, I was suddenly keen on having Stephanie all to myself for a while.
We told Abuela Rosa goodnight in the dining room, and my parents walked us to the door. "Would you come back sometime soon?" Mama asked us.
"We'll try," I told her, hoping that was enough of a concession to have her drop it.
"But Stephanie needs to meet the whole family. They're all excited to meet the woman they've heard so much about. Your sisters in particular are eager to have a chance to talk to her," Mama pushed, inadvertently hurting her argument, instead of helping it along.
Unfortunately, Stephanie spoke up. "I'd like that."
My shoulders must have fallen a little, because she looked at me with a questioning expression that demanded an explanation.
"Stories about me like at dinner, only times three sisters and a brother."
She grinned at my fear. "Perfect." Then she turned back to my parents and said, "Hopefully, we can all get together sometime soon."
I pulled her back to my chest, tired of the distance that had been between us all evening, and complained about her committing me to an uncomfortable evening in the hot seat. "Babe!"
She looked at me by bending her head back to see me upside down and smiled, as though it would cause me to forget what she'd just agreed to on my behalf. Of course, she looked adorable, and tonight had been pleasant enough that I smiled back, causing my father to laugh.
"Yes, I like her a lot. She's already got your number, Carlos," Papi laughed, pulling her to him for a hug.
He kissed her cheek and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket to hand to her. I looked over her shoulder and saw that it was my parents' email address and cell phone numbers. He'd written her a note, encouraging her to text or email them anytime she wanted to. He assured her they'd love to hear from her, and it would allow them to stay in touch with me, since, apparently, I rarely called on my own.
She held it to her heart, as though thanking him for the gesture, and then slipped it into her bag.
Mama pulled her in for a long hug, as well. Stephanie surprised me by surrendering, instead of stiffening up as I'd expected her to with the blatant show of physical affection.
We stepped out to the porch and said a final goodbye, before walking hand in hand back to the Turbo.
When I stopped at the stop sign at the end of the street, Stephanie put her hand on my forearm and said, "They're wonderful. I can see some of why you are the man you are after meeting them. Thank you."
I covered her hand with my own, and then lifted it to my mouth to place a lingering kiss on her knuckles. I didn't want to let go, so I moved her hand to my thigh and began driving again to get us back to Trenton quickly. As we drove in silence, I found my mind going through the evening again, my chest warming with the memory of how natural it had felt to have her there – a part of my family.
It was surreal how easy it was to let her in completely. I'd always thought it would be awkward or like an unwanted intrusion, but I hadn't considered that when she became my heart that it would just be opening new doors to walk through with her, not some forced experience that had to be endured because it was expected. I wanted her there; hell, I wanted her anywhere I was. And the more I thought about sharing things with her, the more I wanted to open up everything. I didn't want to hold back. I wanted it all with her.
Of course, that kind of thinking eventually circled back to the physical things I wanted to share with her, and I found my foot dropping heavier on the accelerator.
"Eager to get home?" Stephanie asked, obviously noticing the increase in speed.
I took my eyes off the road for a brief second to let her see the desire pooling there for her. She must have gotten the message before I turned away, because I heard her sigh and felt her hand tighten down on my thigh.
As much as I loved the idea of our desires aligning once more, the grip she had on my leg wasn't helping me to comfortably wait until we were home to act on how I felt. I decided that turnabout was fair play, or foreplay as the case might be, and I moved my hand from where it was resting on top of hers on my thigh and placed it on her leg, slowly moving from her knee to her hip and back down. With each pass, I moved closer to the overlaid material of her wrap around skirt, until my hand was between the folds. Finally, I made it far enough to feel her skin beneath the skirt, and I moaned when I felt the garter she was wearing, holding up her stockings.
Damn, I nearly had the Turbo's speedometer pegged at two forty. I knew I should slow down, but I didn't want this trip to take a second longer than it had to, and the image of her out of that skirt standing in front of me in only her shoes, hose, and garter had me wishing the car had a little more horsepower to harness for more speed.
Finally, I couldn't wait any longer, and when I saw the exit for the Batcave, I took it, not willing to go through Trenton's traffic to return to Haywood tonight. Steph looked confused, but didn't ask anything. Instead, she surprised me by letting her knees drift farther apart, giving me greater access and stronger motivation to get us to the house in record time.
I'd never been so happy to enter my key code and see the gate shut behind me as I was tonight. And when the garage door closed behind us, I shut off the engine, removed my seatbelt, and pulled her to me hard to kiss her. There was enough tension between us at the moment that something had to give. The kiss wasn't nearly enough, but it was at least a start in telling my body that there was no reason to hold back now. We had privacy and a whole house to enjoy ourselves in.
We had the rest of the weekend, and I intended to use every moment of it to show Stephanie how each new day brought the realization that I loved her more and more.