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“Definitely,” I say as I carry her to the bedroom, and then I show her how good it can be when we make it last a little longer.
She rolls over and tucks herself against me, naked and sweaty and perfect. “Will you marry me?” she asks.
I thread my fingers through hers. “I’ll think about it.”
She slaps my chest and makes a move like she’s about to get up. But I grab her and roll her under me, kissing her until she’s senseless.
“I think I’m supposed to ask that question,” I say. I kiss the tip of her nose. “Not you.”
“You want to get on with that, then?” she asks, smiling at me.
“I need to ask your father first.” I drag my nose down the side of hers.
“Okay,” she whispers. A tear leaks down her face and slides into her hair. I catch it with my fingertip.
“Why the tears?”
“I’m just so happy.”
Me too. I never realized just how happy being happy could be.
Wren
Nine months later
Marta has been sitting with me and Mick for the past hour, since active labor began. She’s been a godsend. While Mick is terrified, she is stoic. While he’s emotional, she’s clear-headed. While Mick is anxious, she’s calm.
“Should be any time now,” the nurse says. “We’ll have you start pushing soon.” She goes to work, moving around, getting the room ready.
“I need to tell you something, mija,” Marta says, her face close to mine as she clutches my hand.
“What?” I ask, as she looks into my eyes.
“If your mother were here, she would be so proud of you,” she says, and her voice cracks. “I just wanted to tell you that. If she were here, she’d be so damn happy.” She wipes her eyes.
“My mother is here,” I say.
“Your mother is always with you,” she says. She smiles. “I just hope I’ve done her memory justice.” She pats my hand. “I’m going to the waiting room, to keep Emilio from pacing a hole in the floor.”
Another contraction hits, and I have a crazy urge to push. “Marta!”
She looks back at me from the doorway. “What, mija?”
“I need my mother,” I say, as a frustrated sob leaves me body.
“I know, sweetheart,” she says. “I’d do just about anything if I could give her to you right now.”
“No,” I clarify. “I need you, Marta. I need my mother. Please stay.” I need my mother to hold my hand. I need my mother to push me through this, because Mick is too worried, too excited. Too…not my mother.
She blinks back tears. “I’ll stay.” She takes my hand again. “I’ve never tried to take her place,” she says. Her hand shakes.
“She had her own place, and you have yours. And your place is as my mother, holding my hand, Marta.”
Mick smiles at me. He nods. He knows. He knows Marta is my mother, and I don’t want to dishonor my birth mother’s memory, but Marta has taken over that place in my life. She’s given me everything I’ve needed since the moment she met me. And I want to give her this.
“Stay with me,” I say again.
“All the way through,” she says.
