They’re playing tag, or something close to it, and judging by the sound of Nathan yelling, “You can’t tackle a kid, Mateo!” it’s going well.
Inside, it’s just us.
Mari hands me a mug of tea, still steeping, and settles on the edge of the couch. Anna sinks into the armchair across from me, tucking her legs under herself and cradling her own cup of something warm and chamomile scented.
For a few beats, no one says anything.
“Okay,” Mari finally says, eyes sweeping over me, “you look better. Still like you got your ass kicked by a haunted staircase, but better.”
I laugh, careful not to jostle my leg. “I’ll take it. And yes, the haunted staircase won. Don’t tell it I said.”
“Too late,” Anna says, sipping her tea. “I texted the ghost while you were napping.”
Mari and I both chuckle, and the sound feels like home. Like normalcy. Like the part of me that wasn’t sure I’d get to have this again can finally take a breath.
The laughter fades, replaced by something softer. Heavier.
Anna’s staring into her mug. Her brows knit, fingers wrapped too tightly around the ceramic.
Mari notices, too. “Alright,” she says, tilting her head, “what’s up with you?”
Anna glances between us and then exhales slowly. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to talk about it tonight, but…” She sets her mug on the side table and rubs her palms over her knees. “After everything that happened…the fire, seeing you in the hospital?—”
I reach for her hand automatically, and she takes it, her grip strong but shaky.
“I just kept thinking,” she says quietly, “what if I never get the chance?”
I blink. “The chance to…?”
“To be a mom.”
The words hit like a quiet thud, like a pebble dropped in deep water. It takes a moment to ripple through me.
Mari stills. “Anna…”
She doesn’t flinch. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. And I kept finding excuses—timing, work, money, dating in this town, which, as you both know, is a flaming dumpster fire.” She tries to laugh, but it fades too fast. “But after what happened to you, Analyse…I don’t want to keep waiting. I want to do it. IVF. On my own.”
My heart stutters. “Are you sure?”
She nods. “I’m not saying it’ll be easy. Or that I’m not scared. But something about almost losing one of my best friends flipped a switch. Tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. But if I start now…maybe someday, a little person will call me mama.”
I feel the tears before I realize they’re there. Mari wipes at hers openly, no shame in the way her mascara runs a little.
“Oh, Anna.” I squeeze her hand. “That’s…beautiful.”
Mari leans forward, eyes shining. “You’re going to be such a badass mom.”
“Really?” Anna asks, voice cracking just a little.
“Hell yes,” Mari says. “You already are. Look at the way you show up for Maya. The way you argue with every school board about their outdated library list. You’ve got the fight in you. And the heart.”
Anna lets out a slow breath and gives us a watery smile. “I was afraid you’d try to talk me out of it.”
“Talk you out of chasing something you want with your whole heart?” I say. “Never.”
She looks down then back up. “I’ve been researching clinics. There’s one an hour away that seems promising. I’m going to schedule a consult.”
Mari reaches over to clink her tear cup against Anna’s. “To doing brave shit.”
