So I can’t abort the baby—God, my heart twists in painful knots just thinking that. I can’t. I can’t.
And I can’t give the baby away. That too hurts to even think.
So I am keeping the baby.
As if a human being is a stray dog to just...keep. It is a life growing within me. A soul. A mind. Talents. A smile. Hugs, kisses.
Mama is a warm weight on top of the blankets, on the edge of my bed. Her arm is over me, her fingers toying with my hair. She’s singing a lullaby to me, the same lullaby she’s sung to me every night for my whole life. I am too old for lullabies, probably. But I don’t care. I love these moments, when I am clean and my hair is damp on the pillow, blankets pulled up to my chin, Mama’s breath on my ear, her voice singing sweetly, softly, a song her mother sang to her, and so on down the generations. So Mama tells me, some nights. An age-old song. I feel myself start to fade, to fall into sleep. I welcome it. My window is open, and the sound of the ocean crashing against the shore is another lullaby.
I hear her humming now. The tune only. Stroking my hair.“Duerme, mi amor.”
Fading in and out, listening to the waves. Later, I hear my door creak. Heavy footsteps. Papa’s cologne. His hand, warm and heavy on my shoulder. Whiskers on my cheek, breath smelling faintly of the red wine he and Mama drink when they think I’m asleep.
Kiss to my cheek.“Te amo, mija.”
I am too nearly asleep to even murmur.
Now that Papa has kissed me good night, I can sleep.
I smile to myself. They loved me, my mama and my papa.
I will love this one—my hand goes to my belly. I will love this one.
“I’m keeping the baby.” I whisper it.
Logan’s hand slides over my hip, his fingers tangle with mine, over my stomach. “Good.”
“I’m so scared, Logan.” My voice quavers. “I don’t know how to do this.”
“You’re not doing it alone, Isabel.”
“But I don’t... I don’t know how to be a mother. I barely even remember my own. A few snatches of memory. Her cooking for me when I was a little girl. Her singing an old lullaby to me in Spanish. But... how do I mother a child? I’m not—I don’t—”
“Love, Isabel. That’s how. Hugs, kisses, lullabies. Be there. Just... love. The rest we’ll figure out together, as we go. That’s all anyone has ever done, I think. I don’t think anyone is ever ready for a baby, sweetheart. No one really knows what they’re doing. You just... do the best you can. Love them, be there for them, take care of them to the best of your ability. That’s all you can do.”
“But what if . . . what if it’s his?”
“Will he want it? Will he want, like, joint custody or something, if it is?”
“I have no idea, Logan. I don’t even know how to tell him. I don’t know if I ever want to see him again.” I shake my head against the pillow. “He has answers. He knows things about me. There’s a history, there, somewhere. Heknewme. I know he did. But... if I see him again, I’m afraid of what will happen. Me changing has changed him. I don’t want to... to see him anymore. Even if I never find out the answers, I don’t want to see him. I am Isabel now, yes. But I am also the woman who wasMadame X. I am both. Madame X is still a part of who I am. So is he. But now... so are you.”
“We’re a part of each other.”
“It’s all so . . . messy.”
“Life is messy, Is. We’re all just... fumbling around out here. Living, doing the best with what we’ve got. It’s never easy, and it’s never simple.”
“I wish it were.”
“So does everyone else.”
“Not everyone has been through what I have.”
“True. And I’m not trying to make light of that. Just saying, you’re not alone in this mess called life.”
“I have you.”
“Exactly.” He pulls at me, so I’m on my back. I turn my head to look at him. He’s removed the patch, and the space where his eye used to be is a wrinkled, scarred hole. It’s strange, but it’s part of him. “Listen, Isabel. I promised you I’d love you, no matter what. I do. I will. I’m making that promise again. I love you. No matter what. Okay? You want to tell him, I’ll go with you. You want to stay clear of him, we’ll make sure you never see him again. We’ll move to freakin’ Thailand if we have to. Okay? I’ll take care of you.”
