How We Are Meant to Be

I made my mom’s chicken macaroni for dinner. It was my all-time favorite growing up and I was the only one who knew the secret ingredient. Neither of my sisters are the greatest in the kitchen, so I got mom’s recipes when we all moved to the States. Even still, the secret ingredient was left off the recipe card because that was what mom did when she wanted it to be a family secret. Hint, it starts with nut and rhymes with keg.

I also prepared a salad and some garlic bread to be the side dishes to the meal. Micah poured everyone a drink; his mother and I were having a red wine while Micah stuck to water since he is still concussed.

We sat at the table and ate in silence. It was only the sound of forks clinking against the plates and our glasses moving and swirling around that composed the music of our meal. It made me want to fidget, so, I did on occasion. I tried to eat faster, just to get up and moving away from the silence, but Mrs. Stevens must have noticed because she started a conversation at that precise moment that I could have stolen away back into the comfort of my kitchen.

“So, Sydney, what do you do to earn money here in Sewickley? Or are you just taking classes at the University?” she questioned before dropping another noodle-full into her mouth. She smirked when she saw my reaction to her question. I felt like it was a dag at who I was and I must be freeloading off of her son or something to warrant that question.

“I am the Slashers’ home photographer; I earn a bi-weekly paycheck in the range of 1500 dollars. I usually go to the practices as well as games. I have taken off the last two weeks to keep Micah company. Unfortunately, I will have to get back to work tomorrow. Did that answer all of your possible questions?” Micah gave me an awkward glance while his mom gave me the death glare.

“Enough, Mom, you only got here twelve hours ago. You are already driving us both up a freaking tree. Maybe you could share your reason to dislike Sydney out loud for us?”

“I think you are too good for her, son. She barely makes enough money to keep her afloat and is mooching the rest off of you. Her sister Paris had a real career at twenty one years old. She had money and she gets along well in the social circles your brother runs around in these days. Sydney would never be able to be in those same circles and be comfortable there. I think you are better off without her, or as just friends,” she said with gusto and a smile. I didn’t dare look to Micah in case what his mother had said was true to his mind.

“Mom, I will never be in the social circles of New York like my brothers. I don’t even know what kind of people they are other than doctors and lawyers. But Sydney’s my best friend and she contributes as much to this apartment as I do. She pays for groceries, she cooks, she pays for half of our bills, and does not EVER ask to borrow money unless it benefits us both. She’s absolutely selfless and I love her. So you need to find a way to get over this thing you have against her because one day I will make her my wife and she will officially be a part of your family. Now, I kindly ask that you pack your things. I am going to put you up in a hotel for as long as you would like to stay here in Sewickley, but you are not allowed to stay here. I love you, Mom, I really do, but this is where I stand.” He finished his speech, put his napkin on his plate, and got up to storm out of the kitchenette and down the hallway to his bedroom. I heard his door shut, not quite a slam but not gently either.

“I better gather my things,” Mrs. Stevens calmly said as she copied her son’s motions, but less rushed and angry. I watched her go and then downed what was left of my wine. I then got up, grabbed the bottle of wine and poured myself a refill which I slowly drank more from. After reassuring myself with the courage of wine, I started to clean up the dinner I had prepared and served. I had just cleared off all of the plates and set them in the sink to soak when Mrs. Stevens came out before her son. “Micah, I am ready to leave.” Her voice filled the eerily quiet apartment and I soon heard Micah’s footsteps coming towards us. He stumbled in and handed his mother a wad of cash with his car keys.

“Take my car, I can’t drive it now anyways and stay where ever you feel comfortable. I can always call in my credit card.” His mother now looked defeated. She took the things he gave her and started towards the door before stopping to say something.

“I am sorry if I offended you, Sydney. You just are not like your darling sisters. I do not know what to think of you because of that. You are just so unique.”

“Okay,” was all I dared to reply because I was afraid that I would get nasty in my unguarded response. And my mom once told me that if I had nothing nice to say that I should not say anything at all. So I held to that while she thanked Micah for the money and left the apartment. Micah then came to my side.

“Are you all right?” he quietly asked as he took my small hands into his larger, calloused hands. He stared straight into my eyes, looking for a sign of some sort to say whether I am fine or not. He must have found something close to what he was looking for because he let go of my hands and instead lightly grasped my face before laying a kiss on my lips. The kiss was hot and needy. I kissed back as fast as I could respond and met his lips in each kiss. My hands gathered clumps of his tee as I pulled him closer to me. He slowly picked me up and sat me on the counter, but did not break up our make out session. So I did.

“Micah, I love you, I do, but where this make out session is headed is the bedroom and I do not think we should do this tonight. For one, you are still pissed at your mom, and two, you do have a concussion. The doctor said not to engage in sexual relations with your head this way,” I chuckled softly and he sighed leaning his weight into me for a hug. He pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. Our first time should be more special, and less angry. But what am I going to do with this?” he asked as he stepped back to show me the bulge that looked uncomfortable in the front of his pants. I giggled.

“I have heard that cold showers help,” he got a chuckle out of that too. Soon enough, the kitchen was clean and we set ourselves up to watch a movie on low volume. I was comfortable when I recalled Micah’s words from earlier. “Hey, Micah?” he turned his head to look at me.

“Yeah, babe?” apparently we had reached the pet name stage in the relationship when I wasn’t paying attention.

“I was wondering if everything you told your mom was true.” He gave me a quizzical look.

“Oh, you mean the whole ‘she’ll be my wife someday’ thing?” he waited for my nod before going on.
“Yeah, I do mean that. I know there is no one else like you in the world and I want you. So yeah, I want to marry you one day.”

“Good, because I want to make you my husband someday, not too soon. We are both young; there are not pressures on us like there are on Paris and Drew. Can you tell me when he plans on proposing? It has been half a decade since they started dating.”

“Actually, it sounds more like Aires will become part of the family first. Good ‘ole Danny boy is ready to settle down and please Mom. Drew still wants more out of life before he goes and devotes his life to Paris and their potential family. He wants a little longer to be young like us.”

“I have no problem with Danny, but Aires is not mother material. Their potential kids would run away if Aires does most of the raising. Paris is much better suited to make a mother. Aires will make an amazing Aunt though.”

“I can agree to that,” he kissed the top of my head and then turned his attention to the comedy we had selected to watch. It was low enough to slowly become background noise as I drifted to sleep next to Micah. I don’t think he lasted very long either. We were both emotionally exhausted after spending the day with his mother and then the big blowup, it all accumulated.