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She smiles sheepishly from the doorway. “Hey, so I just remembered that I haven’t eaten since breakfast either, and Clytemnestra threatened to drag me here herself if I didn’t join you, so do you mind if I sit and have a slice?”
“Auntie Alice!” Armani calls. “Come play blocks with us.”
“She will after she eats,” Tania says, and then glances at Alice. “If that’s okay with you, of course.”
“Of course. I love playing with my favorite niece and nephew.” She grabs a slice of Tania’s granthan and grava fruit pizza.
I wrinkle my nose. “How can you eat that?”
She points her slice at me. “It’s perfectly salty and sweet. Don’t knock it till you try it.”
“Here, here,” Tania says, and they tap their slices together like glasses in a mock toast.
I shake my head and grab a slice. “Well, if you can’t beat ‘em…” I take a bite. It’s not bad. I wouldn’t order it for myself, but it’s better than I thought it would be.
Tania watches me with a smug smile as I finish the slice. “I hate to say I told you so, but…”
I roll my eyes. “Fine. You’re right. Like always.”
“So, have you decided on a name?” Petra asks from the doorway. She crosses the room and takes a seat at the table with us.
Tania runs a gentle hand over her belly. “I was thinking Kohrs if it’s a boy and Versace if it’s a girl. I want to keep with the theme of old earth fashion designers.”
“Cute,” Alice says.
After we finish lunch and Armani is done playing with Riley, we all walk back to Patchworks. I escort her to the elevator, but while Alice heads up, Tania lingers. She presses a kiss to the top of Armani’s head. After food and playtime, she immediately passed out in the stroller.
When she looks up at me, I see tears in her eyes. “What’s wrong?” I ask. Was it the baby? Was she sick? Did I do something to hurt her?
She shakes her head, laughing as she wipes her eyes. “Stupid hormones. Nothing’s wrong. Nothing at all.”
“So, why are you crying?”
Sniffling, she wraps her arms around me. “I just never thought I would have all this. Sometimes, I wonder if it’s all a dream and I’ll wake up someday.”
“Does this feel imaginary to you?” I ask, kissing her deeply.
When I come up for air, she hums skeptically, but her smile tells a different story. “Not quite. Maybe try again?”
“As many times as you need. You made this. All of it.” I punctuate each word with a kiss.
She shakes her head.
“No, we made this. Together.”
The End
