The security guard’s eyebrows rise when he sees me exiting so soon, and I shrug with a grin in an effort not to let him down. “They’re sleeping. Figured I’d get some food and reinforcements.”
“Good thinking.”
My chest pings a little with memories of how I’d intended my life to go. How I’d imagined I’d be married young with kids and a house and, frankly, a different life entirely. Instead, I’m in my forties, single, and pretending to be the father of a kid who belongs to a woman I’ve barely seen in the last two decades.
Yeah, but she’s not just any woman. It’s Maria.
“Don’t worry, sir.” The man tries to reassure me about the things he thinks he knows. “You’re gonna be good at this.”
“Thanks,” I murmur, my enthusiasm slightly muted by the realization that I’m just playing house rather than making it.
“You bet. Enjoy the quiet time while you can.”
I chuckle a little and give him a jerk of my chin before making my way down the hall. A blue stripe runs along the middle of the wall the entire way, and I’m sure it means something to someone. To me, though, it just reminds me of high school—of high school with Maria.
Our school colors were blue and gold, and our mascot was a strong and wild mustang. Maria cheered at all my football games, and even now, after all these years, I can remember the way her legs looked in that bright-blue uniform, stretched out inside the passenger seat of my car.
She was special, even then, and all the guys in our school knew it, including me. Normally, as a junior guy with the prospects I had, I never would have dreamed of dating a girl two years younger than me. The freshmen were practically considered an entirely different class of humans at the time. But not Maria Baros.
She was in a class of her own. Vibrant, beautiful, kind—she drew people to her like a magnet. I can hardly remember a time that I didn’t find her deeply enveloped in the grasp of someone else, someone desperate to talk to her, desperate to share even just a minute of her time between classes.
She loved to laugh, and she did it often, whether she was the one telling the joke or not. She made people feel good about themselves and about life, and I found myself ninety percent happier any time I was around her.
Clearly, only a dumb shit eighteen-year-old would let a girl like that go.
The gift shop is obvious once I reach the end of the hall and turn the corner, though at this hour, it looks mostly deserted. Lights shine on big blue and pink teddy bears, and balloons billow in the gentle breeze of the air conditioning.
A young brunette girl sits behind the counter playing on her phone, and for the briefest of moments, I almost think she’s the fifteen-year-old Maria of my memories, it all feels so fresh.
She stands up and smiles, setting her phone down on the counter when she notices my presence.
I glance around the store and then back to her, and her eyes widen in question. “Something in particular you’re looking for?”
“Something that won’t be super annoying for a new mom with a newborn.”
She laughs. “I don’t know that such a thing exists. From what I hear, the sleep deprivation is hell.”
“Okay,” I say through a soft chuckle. “Something she’ll at least appreciate, then?”
She purses her lips in thought and then nods. “Oh, I know. We do these custom signs. With the baby’s name and height and weight and stuff. My mom did one for me, even a long time ago, and she’s still got it. In a closet, but still. She says it’s one of her favorite things.”
I almost say yes to the sign, but then I realize Maria hasn’t decided on a name yet.
“How about some flowers and balloons? Those wouldn’t be too obnoxious, right?”
She smiles. “Not at all.”
“What about one of the life-sized stuffed bears?”
She grimaces. “I’d steer clear unless you want to throw caution to the wind.”
I laugh. “That’s what I was thinking. Especially in the city. Unless the bear can pay rent, it’s not a good idea.”
“Totally. Also, if you find a bear to pay rent, let me know. I could use the help.”
I laugh at her good humor and pull my wallet out of my back pocket to pay for the goodies I’ve requested. While she wraps up my flowers, my phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out to find a string of texts from my brothers, pissed off that I’m a no-show for guys’ night.
The first messages occurred earlier in the evening, most likely when I was busy helping Maria get comfortable in her hospital room.