by Sam Mariano
The contraction subsides and demonic Meg fades to merely unpleasant Meg. Adrian isn’t happy about it, but I send him for ice chips. I’m convinced the ice chips will help. She’s in the middle of another contraction when he comes back with them.
“You’re too nice,” Adrian states gruffly, giving me the ice chips.
My eyes widen. “Do you hear the noises that are coming out of this woman?”
He shrugs, unconcerned. “I’ve heard grown men make noises just like this. Didn’t break my heart then, doesn’t break my heart now.”
“I love you, but you’re being a jerk.”
“I am not being a jerk, she’s a jerk,” he mutters, but now he’s all flushed since I used the L-word so he meanders away.
I try to feed Meg ice chips and she is, in fact, a jerk about it. I’m sure it’s just because she’s in lots of pain though, so I set them aside and let her crush my hand while she whines and rages at the world some more.
After what must be an hour of pushing, the doctor signals Mateo to come over. They talk in hushed tones and Mateo glances at Meg.
“What?” I ask, since Meg is moaning and in misery, unable to concentrate on anything. “What’s happening down there?”
Mateo nods at the doctor and comes over, gently pushing me out of the way. “We need to get her on her hands and knees.”
“Why?” I ask, alarmed.
“The baby’s heart rate is dropping.”
My heart drops. I stammer a few times, but Meg doesn’t know what’s going on, so I swallow, willing color back into my face and attempt a smile when she looks over at me.
“What are we doing?” she asks, confused. “Why are we moving?”
Mateo and the doctor help get Meg up on her hands and knees. Another contraction hits and she howls. Everything moves fast. Mateo stays by her side now and Adrian comes over to pull me back into the protective shelter of his chest.
“Why don’t we go out in the hall and—”
I shake my head. “No, I have to… Is the baby going to be okay? Shouldn’t we do something? Maybe we should go to the hospital? Call an ambulance?”
“They’ve got this under control,” he assures me.
Meg roars and I cast a worried look her way, so Adrian moves in front of me, blocking my view and giving me a firm look. “Come on. You’ve helped as much as you could.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I inform him.
“I can’t do it,” Meg whines.
“You have to push,” Mateo states, firmly. “The doctor said to keep pushing.”
“You push!” she tosses back at him. “I’m tired.”
The doctor tells her to give him one more good, hard push and even though she looks like she’d rather die, Meg manages to do it.
The doctor pops his head up to tell Mateo, “He’s crowning.”
Now Mateo leaves her side and goes to the foot of the bed where the doctor and the assistant are.
One minute the unpleasant sounds of labor fill the room, and the next, a new cry joins the mix. A somehow angrier little cry, screaming at the top of his lungs to let us all know how pissed off he is at his eviction.
I light up like a kid on Christmas and grin at Adrian. His shoulders sag with relief, and we both turn back to look. The assistant is grinning at Mateo, holding the shrill bundle of anger up for him to see.
I grab Adrian’s arm and give it an excited shake. “Let’s go see him.”
“He’s so mad,” Adrian remarks.
“Furious. He must have been happy where he was,” I add, craning my neck to look as the assistant carries him over and begins cleaning him up.
Mateo waits for her to do her thing, but he looks over at me and smiles as I approach.
“He’s okay, I take it?” Adrian asks.
“All good,” Mateo verifies, nodding his head.
The baby continues to scream his head off.
“He has your disposition,” Adrian jokes.
Mateo tries to give him a dry look, but he doesn’t quite manage to shake the happiness. I feel the faintest stab of pain that I’m not the one who gave him that, but I shake it off just as quickly. This isn’t the time. There will never be a time, because that’s an unpleasant and unproductive way to feel.
I snake a hand around his waist and he turns his attention to me. I’m smiling as I say, “You finally have a son.”
He wraps his other arm around me and draws me close, then lets his hand drift down to rub my belly. “We have a son. In a few months, we’ll have two.”
That makes me feel better. I lean in to kiss him—just a quick peck, but he holds me there for an extra minute.
The assistant comes back with a bundled up baby. He’s still mad, but not as mad as he was. Now his cries have tapered off. As the assistant hands him over to Mateo, the baby makes some vague noises of disgruntlement, but he seems to soak up Mateo’s presence and understand already his bullshit will not be tolerated.
I grin, placing a hand on Mateo’s shoulder and peering over to see the baby. He’s all red right now, but he’s so beautiful. “He has hair,” I say, excitedly.
Mateo cuts me a smile. “Of course he has hair. All my babies have hair.”
“Oh, my God, he’s so adorable.” I resist the urge to ask if I can touch him—this is my husband, my family, of course I can touch him. I reach out and run my finger across his tiny, soft little hand. I have to work hard not to erupt with excitement, but babies are so awesome, and this is Mateo’s baby; I can’t entirely handle it.
“You still like Roman?” Mateo asks me, his eyes on the baby’s tiny face.
“For the name? Yes, I still like Roman.”
He nods and I dart my first glance at Meg since the baby emerged. I was initially too worried about the heart rate and whether or not he was okay, but now that the baby’s health is no longer a matter of urgency, I feel like I should go check on his mother.
Mateo’s voice brings me back to the moment. “You want to hold him?”
I utter a faint “oh” of surprise, then a feather-light little bundle of blankets is transferred into my arms. I shift his weight on my chest, cradling his small body in my arm and smiling down into his handsome little face. “Hello, little cutie.” His mouth opens and closes and he turns his head, looking up at me with big, solemn eyes.
I can’t handle how cute his little face is. He makes a little noise and my heart erupts like a volcano of love. I dart a look of excitement at Mateo. “Listen to him. He has the sweetest little voice.”
“Yes,” Mateo remarks, amused, “his vocal chords are quite impressive.”
“They are,” I insist, rubbing the back of my finger across his cheek and snuggling him close. I peer at Meg again. The doctor has walked back to his assistant, so I guess we’re good to approach her now. I want to keep holding the baby, but I shift my gaze to Mateo. “Do you want to take him over to see Meg?”
He doesn’t look back at her. “You can, if you want. He’s probably hungry.”
I look back at Roman, unable to resist rubbing his little cheek again. “I bet you are. Being born is a big job, huh?” I cradle him closer and step around Mateo, walking over to Meg’s bedside. “Momma, look who I have here.”
Meg appears to have fused with the bed. She’s so exhausted she doesn’t even look legitimately excited that I’m bringing Roman over. It takes her a minute to lift herself up and hold her arms out to take him. He starts to cry as I hand him over, not a big fan of being shuffled around and handed off like a hot potato, apparently.
“Hey, little guy,” she says, smiling faintly as she settles him into her arm. He’s still screaming at her, but she settles him against her chest and places kisses on his forehead. Begrudgingly, he starts to calm down.
“He’s so cute,” I gush.
She smiles a little bigger now, rolling her eyes. “Of course he is.”
“I want to snuggle him forever,” I state, barely resisting the urge to reach out and touch him again.
>
“I’m sure you’ll get to,” she says, evenly enough, all things considered.
I dim a bit, even in the glow of the new baby. “I didn’t mean it that way.”
“I know you didn’t,” she assures me, nodding dismissively. “Can you get me… something? I don’t know; I’m hungry, I’m thirsty, everything hurts, and I feel like I just emptied out everything that was inside my body. I sort of feel like death.”
“Yeah, of course. You want a sandwich? I’ll go make you something.”
Before anyone can tell me not to, I run downstairs and throw together a turkey sandwich for Meg. I scoop out some of the macaroni salad Maria made, then scoop out a side of mixed fruit until it’s a suitable post-labor feast. I grab bottles of water and orange juice and head back upstairs.
Roman is still eating, but when Meg sees all the food I’ve brought her, she coaxes him off. He lets out a new round of screams to announce his displeasure, but Meg settles him in her lap and takes the food, happily trading.
“Oh my god, thank you. You’re an angel.”
My gaze drifts to Roman. “Can I take the baby back?”
She nods absently, her gaze on the sandwich. “Come to me, my love.”
I smile faintly and pick up the baby, snuggling my own little love against my chest. He’s still really pissed. Now that he’s against my chest, he seems to think he can get the same all-you-can-eat buffet from my breasts and starts rooting around, trying to eat me.
I wander back to the guys. Mateo is perched against the dresser, arms crossed, eyes on Adrian as they chat. His gaze flickers to me when he sees me coming, then drifts to Roman.
“He’s trying to eat me,” I inform him. “I think he’s still hungry.”
“That’s all right. We’ll give him a bottle in a little bit.”
I lightly tap the blanket cushion around Roman. “Hey, you hear that? I’m sorry to disappoint you, but there’s no milk coming out of these just yet. You’re going to eat more soon.”
He ignores me, working his little arm out of the blanket, then working harder to get at my boob. I raise an eyebrow at Mateo. “He’s an aggressive little guy.”
Mateo smirks. “Are you surprised?”
I shake my head, peering down at him. “Like father, like son.”
Chapter Fourteen
Mia
“Ouch!”
Mateo leans across the bed, slinging one arm over my waist and peeking at the baby on my chest. “Is he trying to eat you again?”
I blink, looking at the angry red spot on my skin. “Your son just gave me a hickey.”
Grimacing, Mateo rests his head on my tummy and reaches out to catch Roman’s tiny hand. “That’s one of the last things I ever wanted to hear my wife say.”
I roll my eyes, lightly shoving his arm. “Don’t be gross. Baby hickeys are fine.”
Roman’s little hand closes around Mateo’s finger and he does his best to lift it to his face so he can eat that, too. “He’s an insatiable little monster, isn’t he?” Mateo remarks.
I lift an eyebrow at him. “We’ve already covered that he’s a mini-Mateo.”
“God, I hope not,” he replies.
Even though he’s at least partially joking, he’s partially not, too. That pinches my heart.
I run my hand down his bare side until I hit sweatpants. Ordinarily, we don’t bother wearing clothing to bed, but since we have a little guest tonight, I’m in my satin robe and Mateo threw on sweats. The newest Morelli is in a super adorable wrap-front bodysuit. Even in the smallest size, his tiny body is swimming in the soft, striped material. His little legs are on the skinny side, and don’t get me started on the adorable wonder of his tiny feet and toes. I just want to snuggle and kiss him forever.
I also want to snuggle and kiss his father, though, and now that I’ve given him the meager encouragement of touching his side, Mateo prowls up closer. Awareness ripples through me and pleasure blooms in my chest as he leans in and brushes his lips across mine. He nibbles on my bottom lip, then leaves soft kisses at the corner of my mouth before murmuring, “We should have Ju take him for the rest of the night.”
I lean back, eyes widening in mild horror. “What? It’s his first night as a person. We can’t send him with the nanny.”
“I mean, we could. That’s why I have a nanny.”
“He wants to cuddle with us,” I inform him.
“Oh, does he?” Mateo asks, peering over at the baby snuggled against my arm.
I nod my head. “He told me.”
This causes Mateo to smirk. “You weren’t kidding about those impressive vocal chords.”
“He’s a boy wonder,” I state, nodding solemnly. I release my husband to put my hands under Roman’s arms and pull him up, handing him off to his daddy.
Given no other option, Mateo takes the baby. He rolls over on his back and puts Roman on his chest, his brown eyes taking in the wiggly little human on top of him. “Hey, you. How’s being alive?”
“He says it’s pretty good,” I provide.
Mateo slants me a look of amusement. “Funny, I didn’t hear anything.”
“He only speaks to me. I’m a baby whisperer. I should’ve told you.”
“Well, he is a male Morelli, so I’m not surprised he already loves you,” Mateo remarks, dryly.
I snuggle up against him so I can touch Roman’s little arm and my husband all at once. “When Casey was born, my mom had a brief bout of postpartum depression. It only lasted a few months, but it felt like a year. Anyway, my mom stayed in bed for a month, then she had to go back to work, and by the time she got home, she was zapped. So Casey started to think of me as her mom, I think. I was the one who did everything for her, I was the one who fed her, snuggled her to sleep, lulled her with round after round of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star… The only problem was, it started to interfere with my grades. I would show up at school exhausted, having been up until 2 or 3am with the baby. I forgot to turn in a book report, couldn’t focus on a test, almost fell asleep in class. At one point I was so overtired I started crying over answering a question wrong. My mom tried to take over at night so I could at least get some sleep, but Casey wouldn’t have it. I would go to bed and try to let her handle it, but Casey would scream and scream and scream until I came back and held her myself.” I pause, recalling one night toward the end, lying in the floor with my mom on the couch, holding Casey’s hand while my mom held her so she knew I was there.
Roman dips unsteadily in my direction, like he’s interested in the story—or more likely, trying again to get milk out of my useless breasts.
“Anyway, my point was, Casey isn’t a Morelli or a boy, so I think I’m just a baby whisperer in general.”
Mateo smiles tenderly, reaching over and grabbing my hand, lifting it to his lips for a kiss. “Maybe that’s why you do so well with the lot of us. Maybe we’re just big, asshole babies.”
I laugh at that, as well as the mental image of Rafe, Adrian and Mateo as babies, trying to kill each other over the same toy. “Raising baby Morellis is going to be fun. I’m excited that we’re adding boys to the mix.”
“Oh yes,” Mateo answers, dryly. “Me too.”
“I’m going to teach them all about women’s rights.”
Mateo snorts as Roman makes a little more progress on his quest to my boobs. “I think this one’s going to be a star pupil.”
“I’ll use Rosalie’s Barbies and act out workshops. If Ken wants to give Barbie a kiss but she tells him no thanks, what should Ken do?”
Mateo pretends to consider, rubbing his jaw and everything. “Kidnap her, buy her presents, and eventually kiss her anyway?”
I shake my head. “Nope.”
“Sabotage her relationship with the guy she likes better until she says yes?”
“Definitely not.”
“How old is Barbie? Buy her from her parents—who am I kidding? If she’s hanging out with Ken, she only has one parent—and make her entirely dependent upon hi
s good will.”
I shake my head. “That’s terrible. Ken is terrible.”
“Are we sure the answer isn’t kidnapping? Ken has a dungeon. He can wait her out.”
Roman is halfway off Mateo now, so I pick him up before he falls and settle him on my tummy. “Daddy’s going to teach you lots of things, but not this crap.”
Mateo shrugs unapologetically. “It works. My Ken is more effective than yours. Your lame Ken is just going to walk away, kicking rocks and not getting the girl. Mine is going to get the girl.”
“Yours is going to get thrown in jail,” I inform him.
“No,” he answers, shaking his head confidently. “I should have prefaced this scenario with the explanation that my Ken is the head of a criminal organization; he has a solid staff and he pays off cops, so he can do pretty much whatever the hell he wants.”
“That’s not the point. I’m going to teach him about the ethical response, not just... what he can get away with.”
“This sounds boring,” Mateo states. He gives Roman his finger to gnaw on to distract him from the lack of milk in his intended target. “Just nod and smile when she tries to feed you all this garbage; I’ll teach you what you need to know in life.”
I shake my head, grabbing Roman’s toy from the bed beside me. “Here, play with your elephant and ignore Daddy’s bad advice.”
We snuggle, play, and joke about all the terrible life lessons Mateo is going to impart on our young son for a little bit longer before there’s a knock at the door.
I dread the knock. It’s a firm, hard knock, so it’s not Rosalie. That means it must be Adrian, and if Adrian is coming to the bedroom, he’s here to talk to Mateo about Meg.
We’ve managed to avoid talking about Meg since we left her in the guest room to get some sleep. As exciting as it is that Roman is here now, everyone knows I’m anxious about what it means for Meg. Tonight she just wants to sleep, and after weeks in the dungeon, Mateo’s one act of mercy is letting her sleep in a bed tonight.
Tomorrow is another story. No one knows what tomorrow might bring.