NOVEMBER
Chapter 3
“So…I guess you have a type.” Julia’s eyes trailed to Maya’s date, Brian, as he walked away from their small table toward the bar.
Maya pretended not to know what she meant. “What about James there, Julia? Is he a date or something else?”
Julia slapped her friend playfully on the arm. “You’re changing the subject. That man looks exactly like—”
“You’re the one changing the subject,” Maya protested. “That man.” She pointed at the handsome, if slightly short, airline pilot who was beside the bar with Brian trying to flag down the bartender. “Is not a ‘date,’ he’s a baby-daddy candidate.”
Julia clapped a hand over Maya’s mouth. “Shhh. Jesus.”
She pulled her hand back and Maya smirked. “I’m right.”
Julia’s birthday wish, to be a mother, was apparently going to be fulfilled by a sperm donor. And Julia had revealed that she was using a matching service to find the right father for her child.
“Yes,” Julia admitted. “And I wanted backup when I met him.”
“So that’s the purpose behind this double date rouse? You could have just told me.”
Julia shrugged. “I was a little embarrassed.”
“So, is this like the agency sent him out to meet you and see if you’re interested in his sperm?”
Julia rolled her eyes and slapped Maya’s arm again. “You’re impossible. And you are clearly avoiding the fact that your date looks just like—”
This time it was Maya who slapped Julia to get her to shut up as Brian turned around, a drink in each hand, and headed back toward their crowded corner of the bar, James right behind him with two more drinks in hand.
Maya could not deny that Julia’s observation was accurate. The tall, built man with dark skin and strong features she’d picked up last week at a museum reception had a striking resemblance to their boss. She hadn’t given it too much thought when she’d first approached Brian. She’d just been inherently attracted to him. But now she saw the painful truth. She had a type, and that type looked exactly like Everett fucking Evans.
This was her first date with Brian since they’d exchanged contact information. And Maya had a feeling it would be the last.
Two hours later, both women were huddled in the back of a ride share on their way home. Heads together, they discussed their dates. Brian was incredibly smart but not at all funny. James was sweet but not at all charming.
When they reached Julia’s house, Maya decided to join her for another drink rather than continue on home. They settled into the living room, thankful that Friday night gave them the freedom to share a blender of margaritas.
Julia snuggled into the couch, a drink in her hand. “Okay. Truth. Here it is. I am working with a matchmaker.”
Maya settled herself farther into the leather couch as well, wedging her butt between the arm and the ample cushions. “So, like, to find you a date, the old fashioned way?”
“No. To find me a sperm donor, the old fashioned way.”
Maya cocked her head. “I don’t follow.”
“So I’m getting artificial insemination, right?”
Maya nodded, taking another sip of the bright green drink and licking the salt off her top lip.
“Well,” Julia leaned back against the arm opposite Maya and angled toward her. “When you use a sperm donor from a sperm bank, you don’t know the person. I mean, you know their medical background, but not them, you know? So this company, they have the same medical screening for their sperm donors, but you also get to meet the donor, get to know them. So you can pick the one you want to use.”
“So, you’re screening your sperm?”
Julia laughed and put one hand on her forehead. “Yeah. I guess I am. Man, it sounds a little crazy, doesn’t it?”
“No. It sounds smart, actually. I mean, who wants to have a kid whose biological dad is a dick, right?”
Julia smiled. “Thanks for understanding, Maya. To be honest, I’ve been a little leery about telling people.”
“I’m glad you feel like you can trust me.”
Maya and Julia had grown closer since their birthday a couple months ago. Whereas they’d just been acquaintances that got together once a year before, now Maya considered Julia to be her friend. The fuzzy feeling, combined with the multiple drinks at the bar and the margarita in her hand was making her want to open up.
“I have something to tell you.” Maya leaned forward and set her drink on the glass and metal coffee table that sat in front of the couch. “Something I want to get off my chest.”
Julia set her own glass down and leaned in, hands clasped in her lap, eyes wide. “Is it about Everett?”
“Yes. There was something between us once.”
****
Seven years ago…
Maya looked across the room at the most gorgeous specimen of man she’d ever seen in real life. He was probably half a dozen inches above six feet, with broad shoulders, biceps that strained his white dress shirt, and a butt that filled out his gray slacks the way her hand filled out a supple leather glove.
He turned and caught her staring. Rather than blush the deepest shade of red her olive skin could manage and fleeing to the other side of the room, she took a deep breath and channeled her brother, Mica.
Mica happened to be standing right beside her, watching the entire scene. “Swagger, sister,” he said in her ear before shoving her toward the hottie standing in front of her largest oil painting.
She put one foot in front of the other and sauntered toward him, just like she’d seen her confident brother do to many men in the past. The mystery man’s gaze stayed locked on Maya as she made her way toward him. His dark eyes, framed by long black lashes, sat above high cheekbones, below which the most perfect dimples flashed when his full lips turned up into a playboy grin.
“You like my painting?” Maya managed to control the shaking in her voice as she delivered the line in a sultry tone.
He looked back at the artist info plaque that hung beside the artwork for a moment, then turned back to her. “If you’re Maya McDonald, then yes. I like all of your work. I’m attracted to the colors.”
Only one of Maya’s art teachers had ever fully hated the bright colors she used in her landscapes. But a lot of her fellow students had criticized it many times over. She, however, had not relented. And it had become a signature of her paintings.
She smiled at him. “Me, too.”
“I’m Everett, by the way, Everett Evans.” He held out his hand.
Maya placed her hand in his. Long fingers wrapped around hers. His palm was soft, unlike her calloused one. It matched the dress clothing. This man was no artist. “Alliteration. Nice.”
He chuckled. “You, too. It’s like we’re both out of a comic book.”
Maya laughed, maybe a little too hard. Her snort echoed through the gallery space, making her cheeks heat. “Oh, crap. I’m sorry. I’m not good at just talking to people. I need a drink.”
Everett grinned and turned around. He took a few steps away from her, and for a second Maya thought he was leaving. Panic bubbled up, and she twisted on her heel to find Mica. He was standing in the same location, watching her. He raised a brow and nodded his head.
Whirling back around, she nearly ran into Everett as he returned holding two glasses of wine. He held one plastic cup toward her. “I’ve discovered that the red is the better of the two boxed wine choices this evening.”
“Thank you.” She took the glass and immediately drained half of it.
“So…You don’t usually just walk up to men, looking amazing by the way.” He looked her up and down, taking in her best dress and borrowed heels. “And strike up a conversation?”
Maya gulped and shook her head.
“What made you decide to do it tonight?” He raised an eyebrow, then quickly lowered it. “Not that I’m complaining. Because I’m definitely not complaining.”
Maya gestured toward her brother with the cup in her hand, nearly spilling the remaining wine all over the floor. “My twin brother, Mica. He put me up to it.”
Mica waved as they both turned to look at him across the room. Then he stuck up his thumb and winked. Everett laughed. Maya groaned.
“Twins. Love it. And more alliteration.”
Maya nodded. “My parents are giant dorks.”
“Middle name?”
She looked at him with curiosity. “Um…mine is Helen, which is my mom’s name and Mica’s is Bertrand, which is my dad’s name. Why?”
“Then my parents have you beat. My full name is Everett Ethan Evans Jr.”
“Wow…though, since you’re a junior, really it’s your grandparents who are…”
“Nuts?” he suggested.
Maya chuckled. “Yeah. Sorry.” She grasped for a new subject. “So, um. I know you’re not in the Fine Arts program. Do you have a friend in the show?”
“I’m an MBA student at Stanford. My girlfriend brought me here. She has a friend in the show.”
Maya nearly choked on her tongue. Heat rose again from her chin to her forehead. “Oh..um...I’m sorry…you have a girlfriend…I…”
Everett reached out his hand and placed it on her shoulder. “Don’t be. Turns out the friend in the show, Harry James, you know him?”
Maya nodded, careful not to dislodge his warm hand from where it rested against the thin material of her dress.
“He’s apparently more than a friend. After getting caught making out near the bathrooms, they took off somewhere.”
Maya slammed her hand against her mouth. “Oh my God!” She slid her hand down to her chin as Everett’s moved off her shoulder and back to his side. “I’m so sorry.”
He shrugged. “I have wine.” He raised his glass. “And the company of a beautiful artist. I’ll live.” Despite his smile, his deep brown eyes reflected a sadness that must have been consuming him.
Maya swallowed back her humiliation and focused on the heartbreak of the beautiful man in front of her. “How can I help?”
****
“What’s going on?” Maya placed the cheesecake she’d made on the counter in her parents’ kitchen and stared at her mother.
When she’d arrived, she expected to find her father and brother in the back yard. Barbequing the turkey was a tradition that went back decades in the McDonald family, and Maya had come to believe there was no other way to make it. But on this Thanksgiving afternoon the men were nowhere to be found, and her mother was in the kitchen packing up bags of food.
Henny McDonald looked up at her daughter with a pair of eyes that mirrored her own and tilted her head. The curly salt and pepper hair that perched atop it flopped to one side, covering one bright green eye. “Didn’t I tell you, dear?”
“Tell me what?”
“We’re not having Thanksgiving at home this year. We’re going to Trudy’s.” She picked up a small plastic container and placed it on top of whatever other items she’d stacked in a recyclable bag with a picture of a polar bear on it.
Maya’s shock came out in the usual way, crudely. “Who the hell is Trudy?”
“Your father and I adopted her.” She said this as if it weren’t the most bizarre thing for a fifty-five year old woman to say to her grown-ass daughter.
“Again, what?”
Henny sighed and pushed the bag to the side so she could see Maya better. “Didn’t I tell you about all this?”
“No!”
Maya was getting worked up, but her mother’s calm reaction was the same as it had always been. She rounded the black and white tiled counter and placed gentle hands on Maya’s shoulders. Standing several inches shorter didn’t prevent Henny from nearly knocking her daughter off her feet as she pulled Maya over to the nearest chair. It was a wooden spindly affair in the corner of the room near the sliding glass door that led to the backyard. “Now don’t get excited,” she said in her most soothing voice.
“Mom. I’m not excited.” Maya worked to even her tone. “But I talked to you just yesterday and you didn’t say a thing about not having Thanksgiving here.”
“Sorry. I thought I told you the whole thing about the Adopt-a-Senior program.” Henny looked up at the ceiling and bit her lip. “It must have been your brother I told.”
Maya rolled her eyes. Telling one twin something and being convinced she’d actually told the other twin was pretty typical of her mother. Maya’s shoulders fell and her muscles began to unclench. This was clearly some charity thing. That she could handle. “So tell me about it.”
Henny leaned toward Maya, her hands grasping her daughter’s, her eyes alight with excitement. “Me and a few other ladies at the hospital started it. It was actually Gerty’s idea.” Henny’s mouth turned down at the mention of the former head nurse who’d recently had to take a medical retirement due to some serious back issues. “So Diane and I and a couple of the volunteers got together and made it a reality. The concept is that a person, or a couple, adopts a senior, usually a widow or widower, but it could also be someone who’s always been single or whatever. Anyway, they have dinner with them at least once a week, help with shopping or yard work, or whatever. We’ve only been doing it for…” she looked up at the ceiling, took one hand back from Maya and popped her fingers out of her fist one at a time until her hand was fully splayed. “Five months now. And we’ve already got a list of fifty-six seniors who want to be adopted and we’ve paired thirty-six with adopters. Isn’t that great!”
“Yeah, Mom. That sounds pretty great. So, you and Dad adopted someone I take it. This Trudy?”
“Yes. She’s actually one of the volunteers on the organizing committee. She’s an amazing lady. And when she told me she wanted to be adopted as well, your father and I jumped at the chance.”
Maya smiled at her mother. “That does sound pretty awesome.”
“Good. I’m glad you approve.” Henny kissed Maya on the cheek. Then she stood and reached over the counter. She took the bag by the handles and handed it to Maya. “You can take this out to the car. I’ll grab your cheesecake.”
“Wait. Where are Dad and Mica, exactly?”
“They went over to Trudy’s a few hours ago to get started on the turkey. Come on. Chop, chop. They’re expecting us.”
On the ride over to Trudy’s house, Henny told Maya all about her adoptee. She was a widow who’d been volunteering at the hospital for years. She was relatively wealthy, so Maya shouldn’t get all “weird and starey” at the opulence of her home. She had one child who was a caring and wonderful son but who was far too busy to give Trudy all the attention she needed.
Maya spent about a nanosecond disparaging the son in her head until she realized that if she didn’t have Mica to take turns visiting with her parents and doing odd jobs at the house, she’d probably need help, too. And her parents were almost twenty years younger than Trudy.
Her mother had also mentioned, with a highly conspicuous wink, that the son was single. Maya didn’t bother to hide her eye roll.
Maya was relaxed and happy, and on board with this new tradition by the time her mother pulled her well-cared for, but elderly, compact car into a wide driveway and stopped beside a black sports car, the exact same kind Everett had.
Maya wrinkled her nose. She already didn’t like this son. She and her mom grabbed everything they’d brought out of the car and moved up the driveway, Henny practically skipping and Maya moving a little more hesitantly.
She wondered if her mother was going to make awkward statements in an attempt to set Maya up with Mr. Fancy Car. She was used to every member of her family deeply embarrassing her, but it never seemed to get any easier.
No one came to greet them. Instead, Henny simply pushed open the ornate double doors, Maya on her heels. They stepped into a spacious foyer with slate tile and muted wallpaper. Maya sucked in a breath, preparing herself for what was sure to be the kind of fancy-ass surrounding that always made her uncomfortable.
Her mother, however, seemed right at home. She marched through the foyer, past a great room Maya only got a glimpse of, before walking through a rectangular dining room that held a long polished table, through a narrow hallway, and finally stopped in the center of a large kitchen.
The black and white tile was complemented by white cupboards with dark metal hardware that Maya found quite pleasing. A variety of state-of-the-art appliances occupied the wall space in the room, and in the center was a long wide island topped with dark granite.
Henny dropped the bags on the counter and immediately headed to the refrigerator. She began pulling even more containers out and placing them with the rest of the food on the island.
Maya dropped her own load. “What can I do?”
“Go find your dad and let him know we’re here. Then find out what the time frame is for the turkey to be done.” Her mother turned back to the refrigerator.
“Mom. I’ve never been here before. How am I supposed to find Dad?”
Without bothering to pop her head out of the frig, her mother waved her off. “He’ll be out in the backyard on the grill.”
Maya huffed and walked back through the dining room toward the living room she’d caught a glimpse of when they’d first arrived. Standing on the edge of the room, she scanned it quickly. It was actually much more homey than she’d anticipated. A large sectional sat in one corner with fluffy-looking armchairs on either side. A wooden coffee table separated the seating area from a large entertainment center that was peppered with books and plants in addition to a modest-sized television. Aside from its sheer size, it didn’t look that different from her parents’ living room.
A carpeted staircase with a dark cherry banister was at the back end of the room, opposite the foyer. Behind that was a sliding glass door. Maya stood in front of it and looked out. She couldn’t see much. The door apparently opened out into a corner of the yard. All that was visible was a sliver of grass, a wall of shrubbery, and a waft of white smoke floating across the space.
The heavy glass slid on its tracks when Maya pulled on the handle, and she stepped out. It was an unusually sunny day and the rays hit her with pleasant warmth. She moved to the left, around the house and into the yard proper. Big and covered in colorful vegetation, the yard instantly brought a smile to Maya’s lips.
Raised flower beds wove around stone paths punctuated with quaint fountains and statues. Tucked close to the house, under a slated overhang, stood Bert and Mica McDonald, both laughing their asses off. And the joke teller, who stood opposite them with a beer in hand and a bright smile on his handsome face, was none other than Everett Evans himself.