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“Momma’s grumpy today,” Mikey, her gorgeous three-year-old son says and I can’t help the laugh that bubbles from me.
“It won’t be much longer,” I soothe, though I know it’s falling on deaf ears. She went late with Mikey and I remember how grouchy she was then.
“I love you so much, Sienna,” she says through tears that have come out of nowhere… grouchy and hormonal.
“I love you too, Sophie.”
Alisa comes into the suite, shivering against the chill of the aircon that Sophie insists on having extra low because of how hot it is–for her. Slipping her arms into a cardigan she plops down beside Sophie.
“Sienna is right, I walked miles to get Max out.”
“That’s not helping,” she almost growls and I share a look with Alisa who pats my arm reassuringly.
There’s always an amount of sympathy for me at times like this, that I’ll never experience this for myself, but truthfully, this family has made it all worth it. I’ve been at every birth, every party, every recital. These kids are my nieces and nephews and I love the bones of them.
“Aunty See,” comes Max’s voice from the kitchen. “You said we could bake a cake.”
“I’m being summoned,” I say to Sophie. “Go for that walk and when you get back there will be fresh brownies.”
“Bribing a pregnant lady is illegal,” she grunts as she heaves herself off the sofa.
“Sixty minutes of gentle exercise and that baby will be out in the next twenty-four hours,” I say with authority, remembering what happened with Mikey. Nothing could stop his arrival once he decided to make an entrance.
“Promises, promises,” she says as Alisa grabs their coats and follows Sophie out as Danielo walks in.
“She doesn’t look happy,” he says, walking to me and dropping a kiss on top of my head as I begin pulling ingredients out of the cupboards.
“We’re making brownies,” Max says, squeezing the stick of butter in his hands.
“I can see, and I can’t wait to eat them all,” Danielo says, patting his stomach while Max squeals with laughter.
“No Uncle Danielo, you have to share.”
I give Danielo a pointed look, “Yes, Danielo, we are learning about sharing.”
“I’m sharing you aren’t I?” he asks with a wink. “Estella and Cassius have arrived—with a guest.”
“Oh,” I ask, looking up at him when he doesn’t say anything else. His face has gone into hard lines that tell me there’s more to this but not in front of the children.
Time seems to slow down while I bake with Max. Danielo entertains Mikey and we wait for Sophie and Alisa to return from their walk.
Finally, with the brownies out of the oven and Max and Mikey down for a nap, Danielo messages Estella to join us in our apartment and she arrives with Cassius shortly after. We hug and kiss hello, all of us great friends after everything the families have been through together. But the biggest surprise of all is the baby that Cassius is carrying in a car seat.
It’s fast asleep wrapped in a white blanket. Golden hair dusting the top of its head.
“I didn’t know you’d had another baby,” I say, my heart clenching at the cute bundle. “So tiny,” I add, reaching to stroke a fingertip over a bunched-up fist.
“He isn’t ours. He doesn’t have any parents.” Estella’s voice is firm but I can hear the sadness cracking beneath it. See the pain in her eyes when they meet mine.
“What do you mean?” I ask, wondering what’s going on. I know Estella lead the search for all the women who were trafficked all those years ago, I know it’s taken her until recently to bring it all to a close. But what has any of that got to do with this perfect little baby?
“The baby's mother didn’t survive the birth, father unknown…” Estella trails off as Cassius places the car seat down on the terracotta tiled floor.
He continues for her. “It’s been a difficult couple of years finding places for these young men and women and truth be told, we loved Kitty—the baby's mother—dearly. She was strong and capable and a survivor but she was just so tired in the end. She was so used to being in pain that she didn’t realise this pain was something more serious. And now the baby has no parents.”
Danielo comes to me, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me close.
Everything just fits so right. Me and Danielo, us living here in Spain surrounded by our family, this baby.
“He is only a week old and he is as good as gold. Much better at sleeping than ours ever have been,” Estella says and Cassius nods in agreement.
“What’s his name?” I ask. My voice is barely above a whisper, this all feels so right, so perfect.
“Danson.”
Danson.
