Alejandro smiles against my mouth, the kiss ending sweetly as he looks into my eyes and rubs my belly and says softly, “Hi.”
“Hi,” I sigh in return. He’s so beautiful, and I missed him so much. Reluctantly, I back off and lead the way inside.
“Where is everyone?” he asks as he takes note of the lack of children.
“Probably still in their room,” I say, but I’m actually glad for that. It means I get a few minutes more alone with him, and a lot can happen, even in that short amount of time. Especially since I’m wearing a dress—easy access.
Catching the twinkle in my eye, Alejandro chuckles and shakes his head. “Be good, Mami.”
Dropping my head back, I whine, “But that’s no fun. We can be quick.”
“Tempting, but no. Later.”
When Alejandro says no, it’s no. I’m sure I could use my feminine wiles to get what I want, if I pushed hard enough, but I enjoy taking his lead. And besides, he’s right. It’s better to wait. Anticipation is everything.
“When is your husband coming?”
I cringe and my eyes narrow. “I hate when you call him that.”
“Sorry. Your ex then. When will he be here?”
“Too soon for my liking.”
No sooner do the words leave my mouth do I hear a second car pull up out front. A quick glance out the window confirms my suspicions. “Speak of the devil,” I mutter.
“I’m sure he’s not that bad.”
All Alejandro knows is what I’ve told him about Mark, which is all pretty amicable, aside from the lying and cheating and his lax interest in his own kids. I try very hard to keep whatever drama there is between Mark and me out of my relationship with Alejandro. I save that for my late-night chats with Jean.
“Are you nervous?” I ask him as we wait for Mark’s knock on the door.
“Maybe a little,” he admits, smoothing a hand over my stomach, but when I look at him, he’s solid, steady on his feet and his eyes are soft on me. He’s prepared to be my rock. God, I love him.
“Kids,” I call up the stairs, “time to come down!”
I don’t wait for their reply, hoping they’ve heard me because I’ve just heard Mark knocking and I refuse to leave Alejandro alone with him.
Answering the door about gives me a heart attack. I don’t know how to merge my past and present. It’s not something I ever thought I’d have to do, but it has to be done. There’s no way out of it, and it’s the only way forward.
The only good thing about this is that Mark looks a little green around the gills, so he’s even more nervous than we are. Funnily enough, that settles me down a bit.
“Hey,” I say as he steps inside.
“Hey, how’s it going,” he says as his eyes dart around, looking beyond me. I know the instant he sees Alejandro, because there’s a sudden stillness about him that’s unsettling. I think he’s in shock, and I almost feel bad for him.
“Um…Mark, this is my boyfriend, Alejandro.” I step back and to the side, allowing space for Alejandro to join us. Alejandro takes his place at my side, aligning himself with me, and reaches out a hand. “Alejandro, this is Mark.”
“Hi.” Alejandro is the first to speak, and despite his confession of being nervous, he portrays nothing but confidence.
“Hi. Nice to meet you,” Mark says stiffly as he accepts Alejandro’s hand and shakes it briefly. His gaze darts to me and back to him. “Probably about time though,” he says with a chuckle. “I was starting to think you weren’t real.”
I glare at him. He’s not been in the house for two minutes and he’s already sticking his foot in his mouth. But that’s how Mark has always been. He’s either too quiet, waiting for me to take the lead, or he’s running off at the jaw about nothing and everything.
“Well, you can see that he is,” I say, casually smoothing my hand over my rounded belly. “I’m not sure I’m a candidate for Immaculate Conception.”
“Well, yeah, there’s that.” Again, Mark laughs.
I can’t help looking at him and wondering what I saw in him all these years. Why did I ever think that he was anything special? A man who consistently disrespected me and our children, our marriage and family. A man who is so disloyal as to never have had any concept of loyalty at all. Worse, though, is that I actually pity him, because underneath it all, I can see that he’s a miserable soul whose worst crime is to himself. He’s unhappy, insecure, and completely lost and he doesn’t even realize it. This is what I’ve come to realize is at the base of it all, the reason he’s a liar and a cheat.
And there is absolutely nothing I or anyone can do to help him.
I don’t want to either.
With these two men standing before me, I can see the differences plain as day—and there are many. The biggest and brightest, though, is only one real man is here, and that’s Alejandro.
He’s out of his element, the youngest of the adults under this roof, but he’s by far the most driven, most successful, and most confident. That is what makes him so attractive to me. It’s his many layers, that quiet confidence, the strength in his silence.
He stands out. He’s my bright spot in the midst of all the dark.
“So, what do you do?” Mark asks.
Alejandro briefly explains that he’s in construction and what all that entails. Mark then states that he’s in retail, and again, the differences are stark. Alejandro is a man’s man, working with his hands and getting dirty for a living. Mark tells others what to do and mostly stands around texting when nobody’s looking.
When the kids finally make an appearance, I’m grateful for the distraction. I think we all are. Mark turns his focus on them and gives each a hug, asking how they’re doing and such. My youngest comes over and wraps her arms around my waist, hanging off me like a barnacle.
“So, when are we going to eat?” my son asks. Typical for a teenage boy, I guess.
“We can head out now,” Mark says, then looks to me in askance. “If you don’t mind?”
I shrug and smile. “It’s fine with me.”
Mark is planning to take them to dinner tonight as part of their visit, which is the perfect reprieve after this meeting. Again, I’m glad for the distraction.
Mark looks relieved. “Okay, cool. Put your shoes on, guys. I’ll meet you outside.” He’s quick to say goodbye and then he’s out the door so fast, I’m surprised he didn’t leave a vapor trail.
Kissing the kids goodbye, I remind them to behave and assure them I’ll be waiting for them to return. They say a quick goodbye to Alejandro and me and then they’re gone.
I stand in the doorway and wave, waiting until they’re out of sight before closing it. Turning to face Alejandro, I bite my bottom lip, taking a moment to soak him in, and then say, “I thought they’d never leave.”
9
I wish I could fly out to be with Alejandro right now, but it’s not possible—both financially and due to my current state of pregnancy.
Once again, I’m living off texts and anticipation. It’s a good thing both are frequent and potent, otherwise I might not survive.
The memories of our last encounter also help to keep me company, which are currently racing through my brain on a constant loop as I lie here in bed, contemplating getting up and actually doing something with my day or sleeping an extra hour or ten.
I feel my lips turn up at the corners as I remember Alejandro’s hands on my body, their heat and strength touching me everywhere. The sound of his voice, that smooth, sexy accent, those whispered words of Spanish in the dark as we moved together.
I stretch and wiggle around beneath the sheets, groaning my protest and lamenting that he’s not here to wrap me up in his warmth. I long for the taste of his lips on mine again. Memories are great, but they’re no substitute for the real thing.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand and I’m instantly awake and in a better mood than two cups of coffee could ever put me in.
I know exactly who it is.
Me: Good morning handsome
A: Sleep well?
Me: Mmm not as good as I do when you’re here
A: Did you dream of me?
Me: Always
A flood of hearts fills my screen. I return them along with every heart emoji available.
Me: You forgot to say good morning to the baby
Me: He’s kicking me he’s so mad
I’m teasing of course. The baby is always awake the instant I am. It’s as if he has some sort of sixth sense. Right now his feet are protruding from my left side, his head wedged against my right as he arches his body across the entire expanse of my stomach.
A: lol Tell him I said good morning
Me: Aha! So you finally admit he’s a boy
A: I did not say that lol
Me: Doesn’t matter. I’m always right.
A: Sure Mami
Me: Is that doubt I hear?
A: Not at all ;)
Me: Uh huh
Rolling sideways, I allow my feet to touch the floor before I attempt to stand fully. It’s always a struggle, this whole moving, walking, breathing thing. I’ll be glad when I can finally hold my little man in my arms instead of carrying him around on my bladder.
A sudden rush of wetness runs down my inner thighs when I’m finally upright, and for a minute I think I might have actually peed myself. It’s been close a few times, especially having had children before. My pelvic floor isn’t as in shape as it used to be, no matter how man Kegels I do. But I can feel that my bladder is still full.
Rushing to the bathroom, I relieve myself and when I’m still leaking fluid, I’m certain of what’s happened.
Retrieving my phone, I’m in a slight panic when I text Alejandro back.
Me: Water just broke.
A: Don’t play Mami
Me: I’m not lol there’s water everywhere
Me: You’d better book a flight. Looks like you’re gonna be a dad again soon
A: OMG
A: Are you okay?
Me: Fine. Just freaking out a little
A: Me too
Me: You’d better be here when this baby comes
A: I’ll try my best Mami
Me: Try harder lol
A: lol
A: Did you call the doctor yet
Me: No, I’m talking to you
A: Call the doc
Me: I will. Don’t worry
A: Now
Me: I will. I am. This is me calling.
With a sigh, I look up the number for the midwife and am immediately connected with a woman who assures me that the midwife on call will contact me right back.
I start packing the bag that I should have already packed with the essentials, then I text Mark and let him know what’s going on. We’ve already discussed the plan and decided that when I had to go to the hospital, he’d step in and watch after our kids.
I don’t like the idea of him being around when I’m not, especially in my home where I can’t ensure he’ll stay out of my things, but I don’t have much of an alternative.
It’s still early, so I don’t hear back from him right away, but I’m not worried about it. The kids are old enough to be alone for a while, especially with a teenage brother to keep a lookout on things.
When the midwife calls, she asks a few quick questions about contractions, but when she hears that my water has broken, it’s a done deal. At the risk of infection, the baby is coming out today, one way or another.
She gives me directions on what to do, where to go, and who to speak to at the hospital, and I agree to meet her there within the hour. Then I hit the shower, hating the idea of being seen by anyone looking like I was just dragged through a sewer. I end up going through my entire routine, even slapping on some makeup and drying my hair. I draw the line at curling it though—I don’t want to look like I’ve tried too hard.
The kids are bleary-eyed when I tell them what’s happening and what I need from them. The youngest wants to come with me, but I talk her into staying home and helping keep the house together and watching over the pets instead. Then I’m driving myself to the hospital, feeling more than a little alone and a whole lot scared for what’s to come.
Alejandro and I texted until the pain grew too much for me to focus on typing. Last I knew, he was still trying to find his way back to me, assuring me he’d be here one way or another. The problem is that neither of us know when that will be. He could very well miss the birth of our child, and that makes me anxious as hell.
I don’t want to do this alone, and nurses, like family and friends, only provide a small amount of comfort during a time when there’s only one person in the world who can give you what you truly need.
I pray through unrelenting waves of contractions that he’ll make it in time, but a little voice inside of me says he won’t. I’m on my own here.
Naturally, I’m upset. I feel like everything this last year has just been working against me. The universe must hate me. It’s as if every roadblock and pit in the road it can throw at me, it has. Yes, there have been some good things to come out of it all, but why does every damn thing have to be such a production? Is it really necessary for life to be this hard? All I want is for the father of my child to be by my side through this, to offer me what little comfort he can and to witness our child enter the world—it’s a moment you can’t ever get back, and I want more than anything to share it with him.
Unfortunately, that’s not to be the case.
As I bear down, focusing on the task in front of me, Alejandro is nowhere in sight. I knew it was a longshot, especially when he’s halfway across the country and it’s such short notice. Especially because this is my third birth and things just go faster each time. Especially because it seems that anything that can go wrong will.
I shouldn’t be so disappointed that I begin crying when they pull my bundle of joy from my body with a rush and lay him on my chest.
“Congratulations, momma, it’s a boy!”
A son. I have a precious little boy. I smile through my tears as I touch his slimy, wrinkled body and think of how I can’t wait to tell Alejandro I was right.
Curled up on my chest, his little hands are in tight fists and his face is scrunched as if the lights are too much, but he doesn’t make a sound. Not even as the nurse jams a nasal aspirator down his throat and up each nostril. Not even as she ruffs him up with a blanket.
The moment my little guy starts crying is when she whisks him away to get his measurements and do all the little checks they do to make sure he’s as perfect as my eyes tell me he is.
The nurse returns a few moments later, handing over my baby who is freshly wrapped in a standard hospital blanket, complete with an itty bitty knit hat that regretfully hides a mat of black hair that perfectly matches his dad’s. He stops crying immediately.
“He knows his mommy,” she says with adoration. “Is there anything I can get you before I leave you two alone?”
I look down at my boy, stroking a finger across his pale, chubby cheek. “No, I’m fine.” But only in the sense that I don’t need anything that she can offer. What I need is out of everyone’s reach and capability.
“Okay, then. I’ll be back in a while to check on you, but if you need anything in the meantime, just push that button.” She points to the side of the bed where there are all kinds of controls to operate the bed and the television, as well as call the nurse’s station.
“Okay, thanks.”
As soon as I’m left alone, I feel the tears slip again. I shouldn’t allow it. Honestly, I knew it was going to be this way. I’ve gone over it all too many times to count. All the days alone, all the times he’ll miss, all the lost memories, sleeping alone, and the list goes on. This day was a distinct possibility right out of the starting gate…and I thought I could handle it.
I can. I will. I just didn’t expect for it to be this hard.
Reaching for my phone, I use what’s left of my batt
ery to take a picture of the little person sleeping in my arms. Then I send it off with a text:
Me: He’s perfect
I don’t get a response.
10
“He’s so cute,” my oldest daughter gushes as she and her siblings coo at their new brother. Mark brought them up to see him within a couple hours of giving them the news he’d arrived. They couldn’t wait to meet him.
I had my doubts about Mark, thinking he’d be weirded out by seeing me holding another man’s child. And I think he was…at first. He’d kept his distance initially, staying on the outskirts of the room and hovering closest to the door while the kids scoped out their brother.
Eventually, and with a bit of coaxing from our youngest, he made his way over. Now he’s perched on the arm of the rectangular sofa, grinning ear to ear and occasionally reaching out to touch the baby.
“What’s his name again?” my son asks as he watches the baby curl his tiny fingers around his much larger one and squeeze.
“Ben.” I knew before he was born what I would call him. Call it woman’s intuition, but just as I knew he’d be a boy, I also knew what his name would be. Dreams can tell you a lot, and I’ve always trusted mine.
They have yet to steer me wrong.
I look at my babies, all lined up together, and my heart melts. And to think a part of me worried that a new baby would cause a divide. If anything, it’s brought them closer.
While the kids are busy bonding, Mark looks up, and I know by the look in his eyes he has something big on his mind. Instantly, I’m on high alert.
Standing, he comes over to the opposite side of the bed and sits on the edge of it, his back to the kids. I shift around, putting as much distance as I can between us. Which isn’t much, but at least he’s not touching me.
I wait, holding my breath, for him to speak.
Mami: Based on a True Story Page 6
