“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 wanteveryone 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. Wewanted 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.”