She grins and rubs her hands over my belly like she does every single day that she’s not at her boyfriend’s house.
“I’ll do anything for you and my great grand child.”
I return the smile and settle onto a stool at the sprawling marble countertop. With my fork in hand, I lift a piece of French toast.
Not long ago, I gave in and bought a baby heartbeat monitor. Listening to my baby’s heartbeat for the first time forged a connection with this child that’s beyond words.
“The adoption agency called,” I say.
“I told you so many times you can leave the child with me. I’ll raise them with the help of a nanny.”
I look up from my plate. “Nana, I can’t let you do that.”
“You can, and you should,” she grits out.
A beat of silence passes between us. She sips her coffee, and I take a bite of the crispy brown sugar bacon. My knees go weak. So good.
“Nana?”
She meets my gaze. “Yes?”
“I told Trisha I’m not putting the baby up for adoption.”
Nana’s eyes widen and tears slip down her cheeks. “Are you serious?” The excitement in her voice is unmistakable.
“Yes, I am.” Tears burn the backs of my eyes.
She rounds the counter and pulls me into her arms. “Thank goodness.” I feel the stress slip away she’d been holding on to.
I smile as I hug her tightly. “I’m so scared,” I say truthfully.
Nana pulls back and cups my face. “Not my granddaughter. You will fight to protect this baby. Ucciderli tutti. Kill them all,” she snarls in Italian.
“Li macellerò. I will slaughter them,” I bite out in Italian.
SERENITY
SPECIAL DELIVERY
I’ve been in labor for what feels like two endless days. Exactly forty weeks along. A nurse stands on one side, Nana on the other. I clutch the nurse’s hand tightly.
“Fuck, I want to kill him,” I roar.
Nana chuckles. “I remember feeling the same way about your grandfather.”
“Serenity, one more big push,” Dr. Santiago commands.
With my legs stretched wide, I bear down and push. “Oh, God!” I scream loud enough for the whole hospital to hear.
“Good job, Serenity,” Dr. Santiago praises as she lifts the baby high.
The baby’s cries echo through the room. My gaze drifts between my newborn’s tiny legs before traveling back to their precious face. A laugh bubbles out of me despite the tears in my eyes.
“He already looks so angry. Like he’s judging the whole world for disturbing his peace.”
Everyone laughs.
“We’ll get him cleaned up,” the nurse says, stepping away.
