“What do you want?” Marianna says instead of answering either question.
“I wasn’t going to call you, since you’re honeymooning and all, but Nate said you would poison me if I didn’t.”
“Sean,” she starts, her tone a warning.
“Willa’s in labor,” Sean says.
Mary stands from the tub immediately, sudsy water sliding down her naked body as she steps out of the tub and reaches for a fluffy robe.
“Is she at the hospital?”
“Yeah, we just got checked-in.”
Relief shows briefly on her face before she goes on, all business. “How far is she?”
“That’s the thing, the baby never flipped the right way, so they have to take her back for a C-section.”
Marianna stops moving and stares blankly at the floor, processing this news. Her eyes are wide, her face draining of color. I stand, too, and pull the drain on the tub.
“Mare?” Sean asks. “You good?”
“Yeah,” Marianna shakes herself and pulls the robe tight before securing it around her waist. “I’m fine. We’ll be back as soon as we can.”
“What? No, you don’t have to?—”
Marianna cuts the call short before he can protest more, and when Sean tries to call back a minute later, she rejects the call. Her eyes track around the room, her breathing sped up as she seems at a loss for what to do. With a towel wrapped around my waist, I place my hand on her cheek and force her to look up at me. She does, her chest rising and falling like it did on Christmas Eve when I found her in the club.
“Breathe,” I command. I take a deep breath through my nose and release it out my mouth for her to follow. She does, and afterfour of these, she appears less frantic. “Willa’s going to be okay. Now you go pack your bag. I’ll make the calls. Okay?”
Marianna nods and whispers, “Okay.”
I squeeze her shoulder, wanting to pull her into me and make her feel better, but I know what will make her feel most at ease is getting back to Boston. So, less than twelve hours after arriving, I make the calls to take us home.
Seven hours later,we are back in Boston and Willa is recovering in a hospital room after the delivery of a new baby—a girl—who, Sean assured over text, is healthy and bonding with her mother.
I got Marianna to eat on the plane, though she was too tense to eat her usual amount. The flight was less than five hours, but she didn’t sleep, instead opting to pace around, check her phone, read a couple pages of my book, and pace around more.
The nervous energy in her body is palpable as we stride through the hospital. The only clothes she had were the items Willa packed for her, so even though it’s below freezing outside, Marianna wears a short, pink sundress with one of my sweatshirts over it, the sleeves cuffed three times to fit right. I have a sick pleasure in seeing her in my clothes again, and idly wonder how I can manage to keep her wearing them as often as possible.
“She’s okay,” I remind her as the elevator makes a slow climb to the sixth floor. Marianna blinks to attention, as if her mind was elsewhere. “Both of them.”
“I know, but—” Marianna shakes her head, a curl falling onto her forehead. I refrain from righting it. “I used to thinkeveryone would die if I wasn’t there to make sure they didn’t. She could’ve.”
I inhale to tell her that this wouldn’t have been her fault if Willa had been hurt, but the elevator doors slide open and Marianna is off down the hall. Is that what she carries? Why she insisted her family need more protection? Because she holds the pressure on her own shoulders?
When we reach Willa’s room, she’s awake, sitting propped up in her bed. Vanessa and Claire are there brushing and braiding Willa’s hair while Sean and Nate stand in the corner both looking at a bundle I assume is the new baby. The room is larger than most hospital rooms I’ve seen, but the addition of myself would make it crowded. I lean in the doorway and watch as Marianna reaches the other side of her sister’s bed to the shock of all three Morelli women.
Willa exclaims that we should have stayed in Mexico, but all of the Morelli women have tears in their eyes as Marianna hugs her oldest sister.
“You’re okay?” she demands.
“Oh, Mary,” Willa says, and squeezes Marianna tighter. “We’re alright.”
Claire rubs Marianna’s back and Vanessa wipes her cheeks, smiling, but when she looks at me, I see a sadness in her eyes. Vanessa kisses both of her sisters on the head, then nods at me, which I assume is a command to wait for her in the hall. Already feeling like I’m overstepping on the family moment, I am quick to retreat down the hall to a small waiting area where I can watch the morning sun rise in the sky.
“Sorry about your honeymoon,” Vanessa says behind me a few minutes later. She’s not in her usual sharp attire, instead casual and soft in a way I know she seldom gets to be in her position. She’ll soon have a baby of her own, the bump obvious beneath her sweater.
“Some things are more important.”
