Shattered Secrets

I snorted with laughter as Greg, Bronx and I sat on the living room couch watching Viva La Bam episodes and eating our ice cream from bowls that Greg insisted we use, instead of straight from the huge bucket like Bronx and I usually do. I laughed along with my son as Missy, Bam's wife got shoved into the pool by a naked Novak. Greg merely smiled at the two of us as we gasped for breath, watching the T.V. screen intently.

Bronx grinned up at me from where he sat on my left side, Greg on my right. Bronx shoved his spoonful of ice cream into his mouth quickly and then groaned loudly. "Brain freeze!" he shouted, setting his green bowl on his lap and pressing his little fingers to the temples on the side of his head. I smiled slightly and shook my head as April Margera yelled about her kitchen, as it was pained blue as well as her husband, Bam's father Phil.

"Nissa?" Greg asked from beside me, "Can I talk to you, quickly?" he questioned, standing up and motioning to the upstairs.

I nodded slowly. "I guess so..." I said apprehensively, standing up as well as Bronx furrowed his eye brows at the two of us. I just shrugged in reply.

"What's wrong?" I inquired as I stood in front of Greg in the kitchen.

He shook his head, "Nothing, I just figured that we could go out to eat at that new italian restaurant downtown. I want to talk to you about some things."

I bit my lip as questions raced through my mind about what he could possibly want to talk about now, something that was so special that we had to go to an expensive new restaurant downtown. "Greg," I cooed, "I can't leave Bronx here or anything."

"I know," Greg stated quickly, "This concerns him too so I thought that you should bring the kid along, he needs more than just a bowl of ice cream and some reruns of grown men making complete Jackasses out of themselves. No pun intended," he murmured off-handedly.

I stood there speechless. "Oh-" I stuttered out quickly, "Okay."

30 minutes later the three of us were dressed up in nicer clothing and stuffed into my car so that we could drive into downtown to eat and talk. Something I still didn't understand.

"Here we are," Greg coaxed, a huge grin on his face as he opened his door and then came around to where I was helping Bronx out and took my free hand as we walked into the restaurant. I felt a little out of place as we walked up to the front area so that we could be seated and I was about to ask Greg how we were going to get in with out a reservation but he spoke to the woman before I even had the change to utter one syllable.

"Larson, party of three."

The woman merely smiled and nodded before she led us past tables of people and to a table in the back of the room.

"This is great," I whispered, astonished by the plush interior of the place.

"I thought that you'd like it," he said, smiling at me from where I sat across from him, Bronx in the chair to the right of me, facing the way we came.

A waitress showed up minutes later asking what we'd like and introducing herself to us.

"I want chicken strips!" Bronx shouted excitedly, almost hopping out of his chair.

I laughed and Greg bit his lip, knowing that Bronx wasn't the type of kid cut out for fancy dinners.

"They don't have chicken strips here, Bronx, how about a chicken with marinara and mozzarella?" I asked through my laughter knowing that he would take the bait and want the mozzarella chicken that much more.

"Okay." He grinned, waving cutely at the young waitress.

"I'll have the same," I told her, handing her both of our menus.

"I'll have lasagna, please," Greg added politely, handing her the plastic menu and I told her what drinks we'd like with that.

Once the woman left I turned to Greg, "What is it that you want to ask me?"

Greg smiled big and he folded his arms and rested them on the table, his eyes baring into mine. "I want to ask you to marry me."

His bluntness caught me off guard and I stumbled. Greg had never been one for being romantic but his informality had me begging for it all to be a joke so that he could go back and do it the right way, someday.

I kept silent as Bronx stared back and forth between us with wide brown eyes. Thoughts raced through my mind, doubts, excitements, pictures of the future, picture from the past, and most of what would benefit my only child. Eventually I nodded and then shook my head, and then asked him to repeat himself.

"Nissa, I want you to marry me," he said again, "I don't know if I could be anymore straight forward."

"Greg, I don't even-" I cut myself off and took a look at my little dark eyed boy. "I- yes. Greg, I'll marry you." I leaned across the gap between our seats and pressed my lips to his.

The rest of dinner went by smoothly. Greg would steal a few kisses here and there, when I smiled at him he would grin wider and wink at Bronx. The food was amazing and it was scarfed down quickly by both Bronx and I. Greg ate slowly, savoring every bite like a true gentleman. Soon we were back in that car on the way back to my house with Bronx clunked out in his carseat.

Greg spoke as the house came into view, "Can I stay the night?" he asked proudly and quietly as I drove down the street.

I shook my head, peering at him through the darkness. "You know the rule about sleeping over when Bronx is home," I reminded him.

"But you two will come to live with me soon and then what?" he questioned, reaching over to fiddle with a strand of my hair as he rested his arm on my seat.

"I didn't even think about that," I breathed, "About moving and how much things would change." The idea of having to uproot my son and change everything about the life I created for us hit me hard. As I pulled into the driveway, I said gave into Greg's request softly and lugged my son into the house for the night.