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I climb out, and I’m through the door, and I’m down the hall, ignoring the pain of walking, ignoring the bullshit from Leroy, and I’m walking through the bedroom doors, and Mila is smiling at me.
She’s in the bed where she’s supposed to be, and her face lights up when I enter the room.
“Babe,” she exclaims. “I missed you.”
My heart floods with warmth, and everything melts away when I see her. She’s everything. She’s all I need.
I sit next to her, gathering her into my arms.
“You feel skinnier,” I fret. “Are you eating?”
“Yes,” she nods. “A lot.”
“Are you resting?”
“Yes. You’ve got Natasha, Chelcie and Maddy checking on me. I couldn’t go anywhere if I tried.”
I pull her to me, inhaling her skin, my lips pressed to her neck. Lavender, vanilla, and everything good. That’s what she smells like. Sunshine and rain, earth and the sun. I hold her close, gripping her tight. She threads her fingers through my hair, and then she pulls back a little.
“Are you ok?” she asks gently. “What’s wrong, babe?”
“Nothing,” I lie. “Nothing at all. Everything is ok.”
It does seem to be, when I am with her. It’s corny as hell, but true.
“Zuzu and I were just getting ready to have a picnic in here,” Mila tells me. “For dinner. It seemed like you might be late, so I wanted to feed her.”
“I brought plenty,” Natasha says as she comes in the door with a giant basket and my daughter. Zu bounds into my arms, bouncing on the bed.
“Calm down, sweet,” I tell her. “You can’t jostle mommy around right now.”
“Because of the baby in her tummy?”
My gaze flies to Mila and she shrugs. “Natasha didn’t realize that Zu didn’t know. The cat is out of the bag.”
“I’m so sorry,” Natasha tells me. “I can’t believe I was so dumb.”
“It’s ok,” Mila tells her, and I can tell it’s not the first time Natasha has apologized. “She had to know eventually.”
“I’m going to have a sister,” Zu tells me seriously.
“Or a brother,” I answer. “One or the other.”
“It’s a sister,” she says confidently. “I know it.”
Mila and I laugh, and our entire family is on this bed. Natasha pauses at the foot.
“Hop down, sweetheart,” she tells Zuzu. “I’m going to set up dinner.”
And she does. She spreads a picnic tablecloth and lays out a picnic spread befitting of a royal family.
“This is lovely,” Mila tells her, reaching for a piece of cheese. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure.”
Natasha breezes past me and out the door, and I once again feel like I know her, but I don’t know from where.
It doesn’t matter.
