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You could be a little reckless when you knew you found the one.
"If you made me burn the eclairs, I am going to kill you," Giana declared, eyes going wide, rushing toward the stove, grabbing oven mitts as she went.
"Yeah, boss man," Brio said, casually walking into the room. "I will kill you too. I've been waiting for those for almost an hour now."
"Hey, do I smell chocolate?" Emilio asked, materializing behind Brio, still disheveled from bed.
Giana placed the pans on the top of the stove, turning over her shoulder to give me a smile.
I'd been itching to get the house to ourselves.
But Giana had told me she liked it like it was, busy, chaotic, full.
And I guessed I could deal with that.
Until I could get the house filled with babies, at least.Giana - 1 Year"I'm going to slice it off in your sleep," I told him, grabbing his hand so hard he winced.
"Hey, now, you like my cock just as much as I do," he reminded me, reaching to wipe my brow with a damp washcloth.
"Nope. Never again. I hate it. It did this to me. And now you will have to pay for it," I told him, feeling the contraction finally start to ebb.
"Hey, how's it going?" Celeste asked, breezing back into the room, looking like she was going to a runway in her emerald green sundress, instead of helping us welcome her second grandbaby into the world. "Uh oh," she said, grimacing when we both shot her looks. Mine, frustrated. His, worried. "Is she at the point where she is threatening you?" she asked, looking at her son.
"Yeah."
"Well, knowing her track record, maybe you should go take a lap. I will sit with her," she said, moving to take Lorenzo's seat as he shot me an uncertain look.
"More ice," I suggested, knowing he didn't want to leave, didn't want to be useless during all this. It was interesting, I had to admit, to watch such a powerful man look so powerless, knowing he had no control over what was happening to me.
To that, he nodded, glad for a mission, disappearing out into the hall.
"It's always funny to see a strong man look so terrified of childbirth, don't you think? Art turned green, passed out, came to, and ran out of the room when I was having Lorenzo. It's not the prettiest affair, I'll admit, but the end result is nothing like you have ever experienced before. Your little boy is going to be worth all of this, I promise," she told me, grabbing my hand, giving it a maternal squeeze.
"He better be. Because he is going to be the only one. I already told Lorenzo he is getting castrated," I told her, watching as she let out a laugh.
"You are going to be so in love with him. Nothing else will matter. Not all this pain. Not the recovery from it. Not the sleepless nights coming your way. You are going to be such a good mom, Giana."
I wished I could have my own mother here with us, saying these things as well, but my heart swelled, and the pain became suddenly more tolerable having Celeste there, knowing she loved me like her own daughter, that it was her who had taken Lorenzo ring shopping the week we found out I was pregnant. Which, admittedly, was very soon after we started dating. She was the one to help me decorate the nursery. She was the one who sat up with me late at night, quelling my fears about childbirth.
I think I had all but forgotten how important family was until they welcomed me into theirs with open arms.
"You're right," I agreed, giving her a weak smile. It felt like I had been in labor for years. And, last I asked Lorenzo, it had been fifteen hours since my water broke.
"Just coming in to check," the nurse declared, giving us a warm smile as she moved in near my legs. "You know what, Mama? I think we are about ready to push. Where did Daddy go?"
"I'll get him," Celeste said, giving my hand a reassuring squeeze before rushing off to find Lorenzo.
"He is pacing the halls looking very scared," the nurse told me, eyes dancing, likely seeing men like him all the time. "There you are," she said when he rushed in, coming over to the side of the bed, slipping an arm under my back, grabbing my hand. "Are you two kids ready to meet your little boy?" she asked.
And, God, yes, we were.
The next part was somehow the hardest and easiest at the same time. The pain was something I could never describe to someone who hadn't experienced it, but our son was making his way into the world.
All eight pounds and six ounces of him, coming out screaming bloody murder as I collapsed back onto the bed.
