25. Chapter 25

Carina should have known to expect the worst. She should have known the second Jamie woke crying in the middle of the night. It was not going to be a good day.

And it had truly been a horrific day.

She sat in her car, both hands still on the wheel, trying to convince herself to calm down. Her knuckles were white from squeezing and she chastised herself for staying in a parked car instead of going upstairs and seeing her wife and baby.

But she was upset. And she was uncomfortable. And she didn’t want to bring it home with her.

Trying to take a centering breath, Carina closed her eyes and thought about the morning. She’d had to go in to work for the first time in weeks because Jo was out with bronchitis and no other attending was available. Despite her lack of sleep thanks to Jamie’s sore tummy, Carina had looked forward to putting in a day at the hospital. She loved every second she had with Jamie, but she also missed her patients and delivering babies and speaking to people who were over the age of five months.

Except the day had not provided a much needed reprieve. Far from it.

With an exaggerated grumble Carina decided that seeing her family might help alleviate some of her angst. At the very least, she’d get cute cuddles with Jamie, though it was Maya whose arms she longed for.

The apartment was quiet when she walked in, all the lights off save for their bedroom, which meant her girls were camped out on the bed together. Carina hung up her jacket in the closet and unzipped her boots and again tried to take a deep breath.

She just couldn’t seem to shake the dark feelings. Not yet.

Maya sat on the bed, Jamie sleeping on her chest, apparently watching something on her phone while absentmindedly kissing the top of Jamie’s head. Her eyes drifted from the screen to Carina and she smiled, quickly removing her airpods.

“Hey,” she said, “good day?”

Carina bit her lip and shook her head. Maya’s smile instantly disappeared.

“Carina?” She held out her hand, but Carina didn’t take it. Instead, she circled the bed and started to disrobe, wanting something more comfortable than a shirt buttoned up to her throat.

With her back to Maya she tried desperately to push down the sadness, the devastation, the fear. She didn’t want to bring it into her bedroom. She wanted to smile at her wife. She wanted to hold Jamie…

“Carina,” Maya tried again, “is everything…”

“I called my dad.”

“Oh.”

Frustration flared though Maya didn’t deserve any. Maya couldn’t read her mind. But Carina needed more than oh. Not that she could explain exactly what she needed.

Pulling on an oversized t-shirt and kicking off her trousers, Carina sat down on her side of the mattress, trying not to grind her teeth. She watched Jamie for a moment, the way both hands were resting near her face balled into fists, the swirl of her hair, her sweet little red onesie. Jamie was so innocent and so peaceful, her body curved around Maya, and it made Carina feel even worse somehow.

Her family was beautiful.

More than beautiful. How could anyone not see it?

But then Vincenzo…

“He seemed surprised at first,” she said, eyes on Jamie, “and then he started telling me about his research project. I call to tell him he has a nipote and he tells me about enterovesicular fistulas and stem cells and qualunque progetto pazzesco stia lavorando ora invece di dirmi che è felice o orgoglioso o…”

“Whoa,” Maya raised both eyebrows and gently squeezed Carina’s arm, trying to slow down the slew of Italian pouring out of her mouth.

Carina flinched at the touch before relaxing, though she could see that Maya noticed her reaction.

“If it was Andrea…if Andrea had…” Carina trailed off, unable to finish the thought. There was too much pain there.

Her father’s favoritism.

Her father’s inability to be proud of her.

The fact that Andrea wouldn’t have children.

The fact that Andrea would never know Jamie.

“Hey,” Maya tried again, ducking her head to try to catch Carina’s gaze.

“I was never good enough and now my bambina isn’t good enough?” Carina avoided Maya’s attempt to look at her and instead still focused on Jamie, her eyes brimming with tears.

She knew Vincenzo’s reaction would be unpredictable. She knew it was unlikely that he’d throw a party for them anytime soon. But as always, she’d hoped for her father’s support, for his love. She’d hoped that Vincenzo would welcome the news.

He’d almost ignored it entirely.

With her hope came anger pointed inward because she knew better. Her father had known of Andrea’s death for three days and didn’t call. He’d left her alone with it, all the arrangements. He’d left her alone to mourn. He didn’t check on her, he didn’t ask if she was okay.

He’d asked why she’d let it happen.

The same question Carina asked herself daily.

Maya sat up and carefully placed Jamie in the bassinette they still kept next to the bed. It freed her hands, which she immediately used to reach for Carina’s face. But Carina pulled back again and Maya furrowed her eyebrows, clearly confused.

“Carina what’s going on?” She asked, and the question broke whatever restraint Carina had left.

She couldn’t not talk anymore. She couldn’t force it down because it wasn’t working.

“My last patient of the day was a really hard one,” she said, her voice already shaking.

Maya nodded, but made no move to touch Carina again. “A mom or…”

“No. I was paged to the pit. A seventeen-year-old girl came in, beaten up badly. She was so scared and she kept begging me not to call her mom.”

“And they called you?” Maya frowned, unable to connect the dots.

Until she did.

And then her face shifted into something between concern and sorrow and love and pain.

“It never gets easier,” Carina whispered, “the rape kits. I’ve done so many, more than I can count. It’s the most important thing I do, but…she was so young. And so alone. And seventeen…”

Maya swallowed hard, her eyes wide, intense, and something in Carina’s brain clicked back into place as she reached forward, curling her hands in Maya’s t-shirt, forcing her close.

They lay back and where moments before Carina didn’t want to be touched, she found herself squished into Maya’s side, her head on Maya’s shoulder, greedy for her wife’s warmth and strength.

Maya understood that Carina didn’t need words. There were no words that could take away the trauma. But Carina was so grateful for Maya’s physical presence, for the way her hands held on tight.

It was so rare that Carina dwelled on her own assault. Rarer still that she was triggered. But when it happened, Maya became her comfort and her shield. Carina knew that Maya would remain awake, staying up long after Carina fell asleep, guarding her, ensuring that Carina wouldn’t have nightmares, fighting off the ghosts so Carina didn’t have to.

She breathed in Maya’s scent, letting it calm her, letting it help fade the memory of a tear-stained young face. Not vanish. It could never vanish. But lessen. An echo instead of a loud, beating drum.

“I think I’m mad at my mom,” Carina confessed, letting out the thought she’d allowed to fester for weeks. Guilt spread through her chest, more guilt than she knew what to do with, but if anyone could understand misplaced anger towards mothers, it was Maya.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Maya’s voice was barely a rasp.

“She left me behind,” Carina said, the guilt stilting her ability to explain, “I know why she did. I told her to do it. But…why did she listen to me? I was a child and she left me and then…it’s not her fault, I know it’s not her fault…it’s no one’s fault…except…it’s…the man who…I…it wasn’t her fault. But she left me and I was…someone hurt me and she wasn’t there and I was all alone with it. I…since Jamie, I feel…”

Maya’s embrace tightened. “Baby T-Rex has changed everything, hey?”

Carina nodded against Maya’s chest. “She was a wonderful mother. She loved me. I used to feel like I understood her choice because I gave it to her. She left because of me. Because I gave her permission. But now?”

For years Carina had defended Lucia. When people heard that Lucia left Carina in Italy, they often reacted with shock. With surprise. With judgment. And Carina would always explain her mother’s actions. She saw her mother as brave, as dismantling the patriarchal trap that was her marriage, as saving her young son from a life of instability and giving him a chance to flourish.

But as Carina lay in Maya’s arms looking at Jamie asleep, the excuses disappeared and all that was left was the question how could she leave me?

Because Carina could never leave Jamie. Ever. She would rather die.

It was all feeling like too much. Her father. Her patient. Her mother. Images of her past lurked behind her eyelids and Carina didn’t know how to push the pain away. She was with her wife and her child and she just wanted to feel that happiness. She didn’t want to dwell on the past, on the unanswerable questions, on the horrors…

She didn’t want to think about her father.

“Do you want to know what I think?” Maya’s voice was a good distraction and Carina nuzzled her nose against Maya’s throat, nodding gently.

“Your father is a narcissist and an asshole,” Maya began, which made Carina’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. But Maya had just started one of her famous Maya Bishop monologues, so Carina kept quiet. Curious and slightly concerned by whatever direction her wife might take.

“And I know he’s your father, I know you love him and he was your hero and you want him to be proud of you,” Maya continued, “I get that. You know I do. But it’s time for you to be a narcissist and an asshole too.”

“What?” Carina pushed herself up and Maya moved with her so they were both leaning against the headboard.

“He’s not allowed to steal your joy. You’ve taken care of him for your whole life. And you know what? Sorry. That’s wrong. It’s wrong, Carina. He’s a grown man and he can’t have it both ways. He can’t call you at 4AM one day demanding you come home for Christmas and then the next day tell you your job isn’t important or make excuses for why he didn’t call on your birthday. You have me and you have Jamie and you have a life that you built and I’m not saying we’re a replacement for him or that you shouldn’t talk to him, but it needs to be on your terms. Put your needs before his. Do what’s best for you. But you’ve earned some freedom, Babe. You’ve put in your time.”

Carina blinked, letting Maya’s words sink in, but apparently Maya wasn’t finished because she turned her body towards Carina and with a furrowed brow kept talking.

“And as for your mom, I’m sure she was wonderful. In fact, I know she was and not just because you have the same nose. But parents are human beings and they make mistakes and they mess up. I mean, I’m kinda the poster child for parents making mistakes and messing up. So you’re allowed to be mad at her. It doesn’t mean you love her any less or you’re dishonouring her memory. Because you’re right, she left you. She left you and you needed your mother. You needed her protection and I know she’s not to blame for…”

Maya trailed off, her jaw twitching in anger. She shook her head and exhaled sharply through her nose and continued.

“You always tell me that I’m not my dad. Well, you’re not your mom. All the beautiful parts of her? Yes, that’s you. But her mistakes? No. That’s not yours to own. Those are hers. So…I think you need to lighten the load. The responsibility for your father. Defending your mother’s decisions. You can’t carry them anymore not because you aren’t strong enough – you’re more than strong enough. But you shouldn’t have to carry them. You don’t need to. You get to put them down.”

Carina wasn’t sure what to say. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, overwhelmed by all the words.

“And about what happened today?” Maya gently took Carina’s hand, “whatever you need, I’m here. Always. We can talk about it or we can not talk about it. But I’m here and I love you and Jamie loves you and we went grocery shopping today and bought you Baiocchi Cookies so we can eat those too, whatever you need. Also, I talk a lot, am I talking a lot? I’m talking a lot.”

Again, Carina found herself speechless, only this time she couldn’t stop herself from smiling. After the day she’d had, the smile felt like a miracle.

“Thank you, Bambina,” she said, squeezing Maya’s hand. Maya nodded, slightly sheepish after her very long speech, and for the first in hours, Carina felt herself relax.

She lay down again, curled against Maya’s side, and all the tension in her muscles disappeared as she forced herself to be in the moment. Because the moment contained Maya and Jamie. It was free of ghostly voices, of ghostly hands. The only voice was Maya’s, low and raspy, and the only hands were Maya’s hands, strong and beautiful, and holding her close.

“I didn’t ask about your day…” Carina whispered, slipping her fingers under Maya’s t-shirt so she could lightly scratch her nails against Maya’s abdomen.

“My day involved a lot of poop.” Maya shrugged, which made Carina laugh.

“Oh?”

“Last night’s tummy ache is no more. But it resulted in all the poop. Almost called in hazmat at one point.”

Before Carina could respond, a soft mewling came from Jamie’s bassinet, indicating that she very much wanted in on the conversation. Carina rolled onto her back and was surprised when Maya picked up Jamie and then immediately lay her on Carina’s chest.

“Ciao, Piccola,” Carina laughed, booping Jamie’s nose with her fingertip.

Jamie pushed herself up on her elbows, looking at Carina’s face intently.

“She heard you had a bad day so she’s just checking in,” Maya explained, settling on her side.

Carina smiled at the idea. “That’s very thoughtful, Jamie.”

Jamie responded with something that sounded like aahhh-pfffft, which made Maya nod very seriously.

“I only ate three cookies, not five,” Maya said, continuing to nod as Jamie gurgled back at her, “Wow, Jamie, I thought we agreed not to tell Mama that I bought two bags, but now there’s only one left. Thanks for giving me away, kid.”

“Bambina, you ate a bag of cookies?”

Jamie smiled a very drooly smile and kicked her feet against Carina’s tummy.

“My own baby spilling the beans.” Maya smacked her hand against her forehead, feigning distress.

“What else did you do today, cucciola? Besides poop and tell on Mommy?”

Jamie wiggled on Carina’s chest and it seemed like her whole body shook as she let out a loud, “Aaahhhh-bbbbb!”

It was so surprising that Maya pushed herself up on one elbow and nearly toppled over from moving so quickly. “Did she just laugh?”

It was a new sound. They’d seen smiles and short little babbles. But laughter?

Carina felt herself tearful again only this time they were happy tears. She tickled Jamie’s chin with one finger and sure enough, Jamie let out another aaahhhh-bbbbbbbbbb!

“Oh my God she’s laughing!” Maya practically crowed, reaching for Jamie. She scooped her up, holding her in the air for a moment and Jamie’s laughter disappeared as she just stared back, slightly confused by the sudden shift from Carina’s warm chest to dangling in the air.

Carina lay her head on Maya’s shoulder and circled both arms around Maya’s middle and just watched as Jamie started laughing again and Maya laughed too.

To Carina’s ear it was a symphony, the most perfect duet, and she let it fill her.

She let it heal her.

Long after Jamie fell back asleep, Carina was still pressed close to Maya’s body. Unwilling to let her go, the dark shadows in the room a reminder of the spectre of her day. She knew she was being clingy, but she also knew Maya didn’t care. She could feel it in the may Maya’s hand coasted along her forearm, an old habit, but one Carina associated with comfort and love.

“Going to sleep?” Carina asked, feeling drowsy herself.

Maya shook her head. Her jaw twitched, determined. Protective.  “No, I’m going to stay up for a while. But you should close your eyes.”

In the dark, Maya couldn’t see the small, teary smile on Carina’s face. She couldn’t know that without Maya’s watchful guardianship, Carina would be too afraid to sleep, too afraid of what lay waiting for her in her dreams.

But Carina knew. Carina knew what she felt and as she allowed herself to shrug off the day and give in to her exhaustion, her nonna’s words drifted back to her, a faded whisper in the night.

Domani andrà meglio.

Tomorrow will be better.