by PE Kavanagh
“This is amazing. I really love the eggs today, Nik.”
“Thanks guys. It’s my pleasure.”
Marco beamed at me. Perhaps he thought I would have never forgiven him. How foolish I was, to let my perceived rejection taint everything. Thank goodness for his persistence, and my family's intrusiveness. I was immensely grateful.
Chapter Twenty-One
Calm After The Storm
Marco and I began again, this time more carefully. Over the weeks that passed, we revealed our lives to each other, discovering everything left out in our fast and furious love affair. I happily spent time at his beautiful apartment, when he was in town, and tried not to lose my mind when he went to New York.
He invited me to accompany him, to meet his boys, but I couldn’t get myself to go. The idea of meeting Carla, the poor dying woman on whom I had wished such ill will, was horrifying to me. Apparently, she was doing very poorly and wouldn’t make it much longer. She was back at home, with the little family she had, and was as comfortable as could be expected.
Marco was infinitely patient with me. I didn’t know how he did it. I was unreasonable and demanding and sometimes just plain crazy. He let me be however I needed to be and just held me. I understood why Carla wanted him. He was the perfect companion in times of stress or hardship.
Life seemed to take a turn for the better, in so many ways. Crisis no longer felt imminent and I settled in to a period of contentment. It was an ordinary day when I got the call from my sister.
“Hey No-”
“Listen. I’m on my way to the hospital with Lizzy. She's bleeding. Get here, okay?”
“What?”
“Just get here!”
The phone went quiet. I couldn’t believe what I’d just heard. Lizzy had not been feeling well all week. We figured a bit of rest would do her good. What was happening?
I grabbed my headset, got in the car and started making calls. Jeff needed to pick up the girls. I had to call the restaurant about not being able to make my shift. And I called Marco.
“It might be nothing. These things happen all the time and it turns out just fine.” Was I trying to convince myself?
“I’ll be right there.” I knew he would come, and I wanted him to.
Nora texted me that they’d gone to the emergency room, so I stopped there first. Nora stood at the reception desk, speaking to the attendant.
She grabbed my hand when she saw me. Fear clouded her eyes.
“They're taking her up to a room.”
“What's going on, Nora? What happened?”
“It was so bad, Nik. She was bleeding all over the place. I have never seen that much blood. This can't be good, Nik.”
“You can come with me,” said a man in blue scrubs.
We clutched each other's hands as we were led to the main part of the hospital.
“You can go up this elevator to the 14th floor. There is a waiting room just opposite the elevators. Wait there until the doctors are done examining her.”
“Thank you.”
Neither one of us spoke during the ride up, perhaps imagining the worst and not wanting to share it. The whole situation with Lizzy and the baby had been so strange. How the father was such a jerk and yet she wanted to keep the baby, and then meeting Esteban who was more than happy to help Lizzy raise the baby. I didn’t know what to think now, except that I needed my baby sister to be fine. To be perfectly fine.
Nora and I held each other, until Sam joined us. Those few minutes felt like hours passed, and none of us could speak. We all jumped when the doctor finally entered the waiting area.
“Can we see her?” I asked.
“Shortly.” He looked too serious.
“What's going on?” Nora asked.
“Your sister is having a miscarriage. It appears there were some serious congenital issues with the fetus, and it spontaneously miscarried. Because it is relatively late in her pregnancy, it can be quite traumatic, physically and emotionally.”
“Oh my God!”
“She lost a great deal of blood, so we are going to keep her overnight for close observation.”
“Is she in pain?” I asked hesitatingly.
“There might be mild discomfort, but no pain. It's important that she stay calm. This can be a very emotional event, but for her own health, she needs to stay calm.”
I hated doctors. What a stupid fucking thing to say to someone. You've just lost your baby, maybe almost your life, but the important thing is to stay calm. I wanted to hit that man.
Sam took us both by the hand and led us toward Lizzy’s room. Before we entered, he looked straight at me. “Nik, we don't know how she's going to react. We want to be there for her, okay?”
“Okay.” I didn’t want to understand why he was saying that only to me, but I knew. I needed to be strong for my baby sister.
We opened the door slowly, to find Lizzy typing into her phone, and crying softly. She smiled when she saw us.
“Hi guys.”
“Sweet girl... how are you feeling?”
“Been better. But okay, I guess. It doesn't hurt that much, when you have a miscarriage.”
I caught my breath, closed my eyes and composed myself. I stroked her soft golden hair.
“Esteban is about to get on a plane. I told him he didn't have to come up, but he insisted.”
“He loves you honey. Of course he's going to come.”
“I appreciate you all coming too. I’m glad you're here.”
“Of course we would be.” I didn’t know what else to say.
“I guess it wasn't my time to be a mommy yet, huh?”
Nora began to sob. We all looked over in shock.
“Nona, don't cry. It's okay. Really it is. I’m sad I didn't get to meet this baby, but he was very special. He taught me so many things in his short little life. Maybe he'll come back again, when I’m more ready.”
“Sweetie, you would have made the best mommy we've ever seen. You will be the best mommy. You didn't do anything wrong.”
“I guess. But Mom always told us we have to know when it's right. With a man. And I knew it wasn't right with Mike. He was an asshole. And maybe this baby didn't want to have an asshole for a father.”
“Maybe,” was all I could say.
My baby sister was the craziest, zaniest and in some ways the least mature of us, but sometimes she was like a wise old woman. She could see a world that most of us didn’t have access to, except when we saw with our hearts. Anyone else might have been inconsolable, but she saw something completely different in this horrible experience. She was like a creature from another world.
We all stood quietly around the bed and held Lizzy and each other. No one moved when the door opened.
“Hola, Elizabetta.”
Marco.
I turned to him and all my composure vanished. I stepped aside so he could move in toward the bed. He leaned over and gave her two kisses. Her favorite double-cheek kisses. He spoke to her in Spanish. “Como esta?”
Lizzy had been furiously studying Spanish, to surprise Esteban.
“Bien. Et tu?”
“Muy male. I am worried about my sweet little sister. Is she feeling okay?”
“I am fine Marco, really. It doesn't hurt nearly at all. And all my family is here. And Esteban is coming too.”
“I know. I will go get him from the airport. He is trying to get here as fast as he can.”
“I know. I wish he wouldn't worry. I’m going to be just fine.”
“We know, sweetheart. We know.”
We all sat with Lizzy through the rest of the afternoon and night, taking turns crying, and soothing each other. We sang together and watched terrible movies on the hospital TV.
When Esteban arrived, he looked as if he’d been crying. He passed the group of us Lizzy and grasped her. “Mi amor, mi amor,” he said.
The rest of us stepped out to the waiting room to give them some time together. What must he have thought?. This wasn�
��t even his child, but he had taken Lizzy and the baby as a set. He’d been more than willing to raise another man's child, just to be with the woman he loved. He was a hero.
After some time, I went in to check on them, and found them in the tiny bed together, sleeping. Esteban had himself wrapped completely around her, as if he was her protective blanket.
We all stayed in the waiting room in various stages of sleep and wake. I kept trying to tell Marco that he didn’t have to stay, but he insisted, and I was glad to have him there.
We woke up with stiff necks and sore backs, but happy to have stayed. Lizzy teased us all for looking so disheveled. We were told that she could go home later that day, but would have to come back for more tests in a day or two.
She decided to stay at Nora’s, after we all insisted, and we promised to take turns nursing her back to health. She swore that she was fine. Esteban never left her side for the entire week. Anytime Lizzy wanted a drink of water or a snack or even to just walk around, he was there, waiting on her hand and foot.
We had a small ceremony for Baby Boy, and Esteban proposed to Lizzy as soon as she recovered. She was as healthy, physically and emotionally, as I’d ever known her to be, and she was deliriously happy with her new love.
My ideas about an elopement ended up completely wrong as they planned an extravagant Las Vegas wedding. Lizzy gave up her San Francisco apartment to move in with Nora, but spent more and more time in Los Angeles with Esteban. We expected to hear that she was moving down there anytime, but I believed she didn’t want to tell us quite yet. Her work required her to be in town every week or so, which kept her close enough to us.
I began to settle back into normal life, when I was reminded about events happening in threes.
Carla died. Marco needed me to be there for him, and I agreed. I let go of all the ridiculousness and decided to just love my man and appreciate this amazing thing he had done for another human being. He insisted I come to the funeral with him, which I really didn’t want to do. I thought it would be too awkward, but he wanted me there and I went.
It was a beautiful ceremony, serene and intimate. Marco’s eulogy was remarkable and I understood why she needed him. I was so proud of him, even as he broke down in my arms. If I could help from thinking about how odd it was to be at my boyfriend's ex-girlfriend's funeral, then it would be fine. I would be fine.
He was appreciative that I came, perhaps not believing that I would agree. I had spent so much time hating him for what he did, all I needed to do was be there for him, and that would have changed everything. Would have prevented those weeks of absolute misery we both experienced. If only I could have turned back time.
Instead, I had to let go of that terrified woman who created her own tragedies. I had to be the woman who was strong enough to step fully into her dreams. I had to trust in what my heart had been telling me all along.
I returned home to find that I’d been fired and replaced at the restaurant, event number three. I wasn't aware you could be fired from a job you did for free, but apparently it was possible. Between the time I took off to take care of Lizzy and the time to go to New York, it was apparently deemed unacceptable.
Perhaps I’d learned all I needed to from that place. Perhaps it was time to put myself out there for real, doing what I was meant to do. I buckled down to create the next step in my journey back to my beloved kitchen. This time, on my terms.
I’d been holding back on one aspect of my relationship with Marco, and it was finally time to turn the page on the painful events of the past few weeks, and move into a new intimacy. I hadn’t yet introduced him to my girls.
I was highly protective of them and never wanted to bring anything into their lives that could cause them any pain. They’d heard about Marco, mostly from their aunts, and were dying to meet him, but I stalled. I’d been stepping very carefully, but Marco eventually got his invitation to my house, to meet my children. We were all excessively nervous.
We planned a full evening of cooking and movies. The girls sensed this was important, but being so young, didn’t strictly know what to think. This was a big step for me, bringing a man home. I hadn’t allowed any other men since their father into this part of my life, except for Emile, who they knew as only a friend.
Marco arrived fully loaded with gifts and goodies. Not having girls of his own, he was clearly unsure of himself, so he overdid it. The girls, of course, were terribly impressed. Who said the key to a girl’s heart wasn’t shiny things?
Attempting to draw attention away from the extravagant gifts, I moved us all to the kitchen to finish our dinner preparations. The girls were thrilled that I’d fallen in love with cooking again. Food had become a source of joy to me, as opposed to a place of constant soreness. The life of a successful chef might have been (temporarily) behind me, but feeding my family with love was again an important part of my life.
The girls had always been adept in the kitchen and loved to take responsibility for their parts of the menu. I put them in charge of guiding Marco.
The kitchen was small, so we had to work together. With the three of us, we’d figured out a system, but an extra set of hands, and a large unfamiliar body, threw us off a bit. There was quite a bit of bumping into each other and dropping things, which led to great hilarity.
Claire and Lola reminded me so much of Nora and me when we were young. Claire was born serious, and very, very talented. She was a natural leader and got things done. Lola was my wild child - extremely emotive and eloquent, with an uncanny ability to see into people's souls. Her insights bordered on the psychic and I often wondered if she had some connection to a magical world we couldn’t see.
Claire took on the task of directing Marco in the kitchen, and freely critiquing his work. Lola plied him with a nonstop stream of questions, relevance and appropriateness notwithstanding. He obliged both of them.
Every now and then I stopped and watch them. I’d had no doubt they would get along brilliantly, but was not quite sure what that would look like. What I saw was strong evidence that he was a very good father.
He was natural, easy, relaxed and honest. He never spoke down to them or tried to ingratiate himself. When Claire got a little too bossy, he told her. When he needed a break from Lola’s questions in order to concentrate on his preparations, he told her.
I was impressed. He looked over at me and mouthed, I love you. He took every opportunity to brush against me, or touch my arm. We both pretended that the girls didn’t notice.
The meal was imperfect in its preparation, but perfect in its enjoyment. Everyone offered to clean up afterward, which was a great surprise to me. The girls were then put in charge of setting up the movie, which left Marco and me alone, for the first time, in the kitchen. With my hands busy in the sink, he took my shoulders and kissed me passionately. The combination of this man, in my house, with my girls in the other room made everything more exciting. And scary.
We settled in on the sprawled-out floor cushions, at first a bit tentative about who was going to sit where. Normally the girls would each lay on one of my shoulders, but no one wanted to leave Marco out, so we created a new foursome shape. I snuggled under Marco’s arm, and the girls fit themselves in around us. He held them as if they were his own. My heart warmed.
I’d chosen a comedy, so as not to have to cry in front of everyone... again. Whenever he could, Marco snuck in a kiss or a whisper.
Although the girls were too excited to sleep, having a new visitor over, I forced the issue. I promised a great breakfast, which everyone expected anyway, and ushered them off to bed. And then things got awkward. Or maybe just for me.
We had agreed that he would stay the night, but now that it was time to bring him to my bedroom, I felt uneasy. I didn’t have men over, and now one was spending the night. I wondered how much the girls understood about what that meant. I knew Lola had a good idea about what happened between men and women. What did she think? Would she be her normal inquisitive self and a
sk us about it in the morning? I was feeling embarrassed already.
I wasn’t sure I could be intimate with him, concerned about the girls so close by. What if they wanted to come into the room, which they often do?
“It's okay, darling. Don't worry. The girls will be fine. And maybe, so will we.”
He read my mind again. “I know. It just feels strange to have you here. Doesn't it feel strange to you?”
“Not really. Maybe just a bit, because I can feel your nervousness. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable. Do you want me to sleep in the other room?”
“Don't be ridiculous. I just... I don't know...”
“Didn’t the girls see you and Jeff being affectionate?”
“No. Actually no one did, because it so rarely happened. Especially after the girls were born. That's pathetic, right?”
“No, not pathetic. Truthful. Now don't you want them to have a good example of what it looks like, an adult relationship? I mean one that's not on TV.”
“They do, from their father. He and his girlfriend have been serious for some time, and I know that she lives there most of the time. I’m not worried about that so much...”
“So what are you worried about?”
“I guess I haven't really had to split my attention before. I want to make sure that I’m taking care of everyone.”
“But what if I want to take care of you? Will you let me?”
“If you insist.” We both laughed, but I felt the seriousness of his statement. Would I let him take care of me? Could I allow myself such an unlikely extravagance?
We laid down in my bed, breathing together. There was a softness to my desire, but I could tell he was waiting for me to make the first move. He was being respectful about my concern around the girls. It felt like the first time having a man at your parent's house. Something sacred was being transformed. Not necessarily broken, but evolved.
I wanted him to love me, here, in the bedroom that had never experienced that event. I turned my head to kiss his neck, and my hands explored his body. He relaxed and responded to me quickly. I slid my body on top of his and crouched above him. He held me and kissed me, not forcing anything to happen. But the heat built quickly for me, and I wanted to be with him. I slid him inside me, and he moaned. I closed my eyes and let him move the both of us.