Jamaica

“You have to do something! They refuse to come out and the doctors are discussing inducing me and using C-section. I don’t want my babies cut out of me, Jam. I want to push them out like other women do.”

That’s how Mia greets me when I walk in, her pretty face scrunched up as she tries to lift herself from the couch and fails. She’s about a boulder too big to achieve any sort of rise without Luc’s help and I chuckle silently when this makes her face go red and her mouth tight.

She’s huge! Not, oh wow, let’s all see the pregnant lady huge, nuhuh, this is like…explosion in the belly huge and especially for someone with such a small frame.

One baby makes her big, two make her look like she’s bought real estate in an ocean somewhere and people are going to be checking her out through a set of binoculars.

“Mia, honey, sweet little baby mama, how in hell do you expect me to get those little Italian monsters out of you?” I ask reasonably, bending down to kiss her cheek and fall down next to her while the men congregate on the opposite side and start whispering to each other.

Mia glares at Luc who ignores her valiantly - I know I’d burst into flames if she looked at me that way - and turns to me with a desperation that makes me feel helpless.

“He’s agreeing with the doctors, Jam. He says that if I don’t go into labor by tomorrow morning that he’s taking me to the hospital to have me sliced. I don’t want that, Jam. The thought of it terrifies me,” she whispers.

My hand surrounds hers, trying to will strength and positivity into her and I feel helpless when her eyes mist.

“Mia honey, you have to think about this more reasonably. The man loves you and he’s terrified something will happen to you and those babies. You need to do what is best for yourself and them, not cling to some archaic practice just because you want to have labor stories.”

She flushes and I am sure I have her dead to rights so I can start shaming her when she leans in closer and whispers.

“It’s not…I am so scared that something goes wrong, Jam. Luc’s been talking to these kids every day at least three times a day, as if they’re already here. I have nightmares about something going wrong and watching him go crazy. Then I think, no, nothing can go wrong if they stay inside me. Forever. I know its nuts-”

“Honey, that ain’t nuts, that’s fucking nuts,” I whisper back, my lips twitching at the thought of tiny little Mia waddling around with two five-year-olds in her belly and the fallout of that labor.

Don’t blame me, she put that shit in my head.

Then my smile fades, hard, because this is not good and the more I look at her pale face and see the strain on Luc’s the more it reminds me of what happened to me.

Granted, I didn’t look like my cakes were fully baked like Mia does, and a miscarriage at a few months isn’t as horrifying as a full grown baby who would come out….

No, I can’t even think that thought. What I can do, I think, my body shivering with real fear, is make Mia see that she needs to do this, now before something goes wrong.

“I know! Luc is going crazy, Jam, and the more stressed he becomes the more I stress and then I think about the babies feeling that and…why is this so hard? I think about pain and coming home and having two babies to look after. Two, Jam! What if I’m shitty at it? What if I can’t handle two? I don’t want to mess this up and, and I’m already doing it because instead of going into labor early like most multiples do, I have to go and be the loser who carries full-term and then some!”

I hug her when it looks like she’s about to burst into tears and rub her back soothingly, shaking my head imperceptibly when Luc goes to jump up.

“Mia, you’re going to be a fantastic mother. You already raised two boys who should have died years ago in some freak accident. I think God spared them because he knew Mama Mia would go nuts if he took them,” I say, chuckling when she snorts.

“You just said Mama Mia, like the movie!” she giggles.

Yeah, okay, so I’ve been holding off on that one as a punch line. Sue me.

“I did and you’d better forget it right now because I was saving it for something much more entertaining than telling you to stop being a baby and go get your belly cut open. Look on the bright side, babe; you won’t have to have your vagina opening so wide more than a football can get in there. No piles, a lot of women get piles from pushing that hard babe. No tearing or loose vag when you have sex again. Best of all, you get to maintain bladder control and not piss yourself every time a mouse farts near you.”

She grimaces but perks right up and suddenly she’s all smiles. I check her over, blinking because I’m pretty sure she just got possessed and her neck turned all the way around.

“Oh my God, you are so right! Luc! Luc call that hacksaw you call a doctor,” she yells. “We’re getting these babies out today!”

He looks confused before Santiago laughs, hard, and wipes his eyes.

“She means sawbones, my friend.”

I bite my own lips to keep in a chuckle while Luc gives a huff of mirth and then springs into action, he’s on the phone, barking orders at someone and then he’s at her side, kneeling and taking her hand.

“Mia, mia moglie, you will be fine. You and the babies both. I swear this to you.”

She strokes his cheek and I feel a small stab of pain to witness that much love before leaving them alone for a few minutes and going to stand beside Santiago.

“She is afraid?”

“Yeah. I convinced her it’ll all be okay by bringing up the possibility of piles and pissing herself every five seconds if she gives natural birth.” I snort, giggling when he chokes and covers it with a cough.

“It would not matter to Luc. He loves her,” he says quietly, looking at them with a longing I wish he’d acknowledge.

I can see in him, sometimes, that he’d like that kind of bond, that he’d adore any woman he felt safe enough to share a family with. The sight is bittersweet for me but I push away the ache and choose instead to watch Luc sweep his burgeoning wife into his arms and carry her to the foyer.

Santiago and I both follow when Mia calls out for us to come and I travel with him silently until we reach the hospital. My heart is racing the whole time and I don’t think I’ll breathe an easy breath until this happens.

I pray those babies come out kicking and screaming like true champions and I pray to God Mia is okay because despite my advice, I am terrified of her being cut open.

Anything can go wrong. The last time I was in a hospital, I became very clear on a few things. Doctors are not gods; they lose people all the time, just look at Brian and my baby.

Another thing, sometimes you don’t get your miracle, no matter how hard you pray or bargain. I believe in prayer and the power of faith, I do, but it doesn’t always save the day.

Something could go totally wrong, fast and we could lose them.

I stem the flow of tears trying to spring forth and let Santiago lead me inside and up to the waiting room of the maternity section, my body numb as I sit and try to keep my thoughts positive instead of focusing on all the negatives.

My tragedy does not apply here, I keep telling myself but the more time passes, the slow creep made ever more unbearable when people start showing up, the more tense I get.

Santiago sits quietly beside me the whole time, intermittently leaving to get coffee, food or take a call. I don’t move because I need to keep myself together and I know that if I move an inch I’ll likely fall apart.

My whole body is shaking inside, rattling with the past, fear and the knowledge that all the hope surrounding us could be for naught. Hasn’t life already proved that to me?

Cam comes over eventually, after watching me silently for almost two hours. He sits beside me in Santiago’s vacant chair and I turn my head slowly with care to stare at him through eyes that are likely filled with every emotion inside me.

“She’ll be okay, Jay.”

“I know.”

“No, you don’t. You’re sitting here white as a sheet and fragile as glass letting all the demons you still got inside make up wild scenarios. This isn’t going to play out like yours did, Jay,” he says softly, taking my hand in his firm grip. “Mia is healthy, strong and Luc would chop off one of his own limbs before he lets anyone even remotely not up to the task touch his wife and kids. You know the man, Jay, would he let anything happen to them?”

I shake my head and feel my lungs ease, letting in a full breath.

“No.”

No, he wouldn’t. I’ve seen Luc in many guises. Boss. Tease. Playboy. Tyrant. He’s good at them all but when it comes to being a husband, that man is phenomenal.

Mia means everything to him and I should know that the only way he’d let anyone near his wife and babies is if the guy has at least three qualifications and can perform surgery in deep space without gravity.

“No, he won’t. He loves Mia more than anything in this world so you can stop looking as if you’ve seen a ghost and start breathing again, okay, babe? You were in an accident, a senseless accident that ended badly, Jay. Mia is going in for a C-section because those babies like it in there so much they’re as stubborn as their papa. You need to calm down, baby, and give that poor asshole a break,” he whispers, pulling me into his side to kiss my hair.

“What?”

“Alvarez. Jay, babe, the man’s been sitting beside you with a face of granite and paler than milk, looking as if he’s ready to kill someone because you’re so upset. I may not like that ass, but it’s killing him to see you this way.”

That shocks me because I don’t think…

But then again am I being unfair? Of course he’s upset. Mia is one of his best friends and he adores her. Hell, he’s even nicknamed her babies some weird Spanish names that mean little terrors.

“He’s worried about Mia,” I mumble, liking the thought of him being upset over the outcome more than wanting to consider that he has any real feelings for me.

That path is strewn with too many…pains. It’s all pathetic and maudlin and dramatic to say it that way for my liking but I can’t find any other words.

I’m terrified of this softer, more sensitive side of Santiago because I could all too easily fall for him again and while living in the present is fine for my emotional well-being, I know that considering anything else would be catastrophic to my psyche.

Sex is fine. It’s a momentary thing, easy to separate from feelings, if you do it before you sleep with the guy and know that you shouldn’t have any expectations.

Liking someone, despite the shit they’ve laid at your door, is dangerous. Even more dangerous still is letting myself more than like him.

No, I need to see Santiago as I should have seen him before, human but shut off. If I keep that in mind then nothing else can filter in and endanger the delicate balance I’ve set for myself and this…fling.

Yeah, I guess I could call what we have a fling.

“He’s worried about you. Be fair, Jay. The man isn’t perfect but he’s obviously not as heartless as you’d like to believe.”

I don’t want to have this whispered conversation but short of leaving, I know Cam will just keep going until he has his say.

“And you’d like me to actually consider it? The last time I thought he could feel anything more than lust for me he broke my heart and left me alone and pregnant.” I hiss, pulling my hand away because I am so not happy with Cam.

I depend on him to be my sensible council, not the romantic who feels sorry for my ex and then lectures me about giving him a break. I need his cold hard facts, not soft feelings.

“The last time you loved him, Jamaica, the man was an idiot who thought you were sleeping with your on again off again fuck buddy,” he points out.

Hell, he’s being reasonable. I hate it when Cam gets this way because he’s the evidence don’t lie kinda guy and he lays it all out on the table, no matter how shitty it’ll make you feel.

Like now. Reminding me that I did indeed practically live with Brian when I went back to California.

“That is bullshit, Cameron. Everyone knows I wasn’t with Brian anymore! Hell, Santiago was sitting right next to me when I called him and asked him to return my apartment key.”

That conversation did not go well and thinking back on it I should have known something bad would happen.

“Yeah, but he was also probably right there when you spent what, an hour, on the phone talking Brian down from the ledge. Face it, Jay, you made mistakes, too. I love you, babe, you know that but you’re not completely blameless. I would definitely not invest myself with a woman who is best friends with a guy she was sleeping with for years. Yeah, I know, you were friends but a man is a man, Jay. We need to possess our women completely or it just fails. This guy, maybe he’s just an asshole, but from the look on his face when he walked out of here, he’s on the edge and struggling to cling on by his fingertips.”

“Why are you telling me this, Cam?” I ask not willing to argue because I don’t think I’d win.

He shrugs, smiling sadly and leans his head back against the wall.

“Because I watched you almost kill yourself trying to pretend that you were okay, just like he’s been doing for the last three hours. Because I love you but I’m sick and tired of watching you shut yourself off one emotion at a time and deny yourself happiness. Maybe I just want you to look at the guy and make peace with what was and what is. Hell, I don’t know. All I do know is that whatever you had, it isn’t over. Not for you Jay, and most definitely not for him. If he’s changing, you owe him more than to close out this case and walk away.”

I don’t answer him because I can’t. I don’t want to think this way, consider his feelings and have one of those heart to hearts with him again.

Every time I do, I get that much closer to letting go of everything and seeing him as I once did. Some of it, the good parts were all true. He’s kind. He loves people, even if he refuses to see it. He wants happiness but only on his terms.

He’s more than the monster I built him up to be to help myself move on and knowing it doesn’t make walking away without a backward glance easy.

It makes it really hard because some part of me still wants to be the woman who makes him happy and gets him to see that one bad marriage doesn’t mean he’ll never be loved.

I know one of the main reasons Santiago doesn’t want to love again is because he truly believes no one will ever fully love him. He’s a passionate man, complex and full of fire. He’s capable of a degree of love that makes my heart yearn.

And I shouldn’t let it because he’s proven to me more than once that whatever he’s capable of feeling, he won’t ever feel for me. Sure, we can be friends, lovers, and partners and get by on that, but I spent my whole life unloved by people who should have loved me the most.

I won’t settle for less and Santiago is right, I deserve more than whatever he can offer.

So yeah, I’m not going there.

Cameron leaves me after a few minutes of stubborn silence and I sit, waiting, this time with my heart actually beating and my lungs functioning until he comes back and falls down beside me, offering me yet another cup of coffee.

“No thanks. If I drink any more I’ll be bouncing off the walls and chewing on people’s legs like Mia does when she drinks too much caffeine.”

He chuckles, setting the cup down on the table beside him and runs a hand through his hair tiredly.

“I do not like to sit and wait.”

I snort. Santiago is one of the least patient men I know, second only to Luc and that’s only because he hasn’t topped Luc yet and threatened to kill a guy for pissing him off.

“You’ve never had much patience. It’ll be a while yet I think. They have to induce her and then wait before they take her in. She’ll be in recovery for a while too before they clear her and I know Luc won’t come out before then so you may as well get comfortable.”

Santiago nods, his jaw still set as he settles back beside me, folds his arms and sits as silently as I am. The rest of the room is just as quiet with Luc’s parents whispering quietly amongst themselves, the brothers and sisters in law either sleeping or reading and the body guards standing to attention as if we’re about to suffer an attack.

I don’t say a thing, just sit. I can’t do much of anything else as the hours pass by but pray, and pray I do.