Disclaimer: I own nothing.
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"Don't contract anything and bring it home with you, okay? I don't think Rosita needs to be pregnant and itchy. Or worse. God knows where that man is taking you."
"I will be careful with the plants," Carol assured her over the phone. "I promise."
"It's all I ask. That, and you use condoms, please. I cannot handle two pregnant women in this apartment. Although a baby Chambler would be cute."
"Yes, it would be, but I'm still the process of a name change, remember? It's a lot to update, so I'm just goin' with first name only." She paused. "I really should have changed my name a long time ago."
"Yes, you should have, but it's better late than never."
"That's...very true." Carol chuckled softly. "Although the baby would be a Dixon."
"Okay...no?" She opened the door to their apartment building and dug her keys out. "I love you guys, don't get me wrong, but please consider me. I have to handle the mood swings and the weird appetite and trying not to show how offended or disgusted I am by those cravings. Not to mention all the times I'll have to hold my tongue to keep you both happy. I can't do that."
"I think you're doing just fine with Rosita."
"I'm trying, but honestly it just doesn't sit well with me." She lingered on the steps. "Don't misunderstand me. I am happy for Aaron and Eric. I am completely supportive, but...with the timing, it feels wrong. She just went through the worst torture of her life and willingly signed on for more. It seems too soon, but it's too late for my input, not to mention...it's her body. I can't just decide what she does with it."
"I was calling to ask about her, too, actually. Is she okay? I know she's had a rough time lately. Honestly, I didn't want to leave with Daryl because of that."
"How do you mean?" She checked the hall to be sure no noisy neighbors were coming.
"Just this look she gets. Like she's not even in the same room with me. She can go from laughing and joking to...completely absent in her own body. It worries me, Tara. I've never seen her like it, and she's trying to hide it, but I know. I've been there before, and I can't stand to have her be there now. And alone."
"She isn't alone." Tara leaned against the wall.
"Inside herself with the nightmares, yeah, Tara, she is. I know you're doing all you can to be supportive and there, but...when the walls close in randomly, you can't always be there."
"I can't take time off of work, Carol."
"I don't expect you to, but...maybe have her mom drop by. Or Andrea. Somebody, at least, to keep an eye on her while you work. I think it'll do her some good."
"I don't know. I don't want to push people on her right now. She needs time. It's barely been six months since we found her."
"Tara, there's no time like the present. Trust me on that. Just...just talk to her about visiting or having them visit her. She needs us. With the baby comes so many emotional and physical burdens, and it's starting to crush her. Don—don't let that happen, please."
She inhaled deeply. "I've noticed...changes in her, too, but I was hoping it was just my imagination."
"No, it's really not."
"I'll talk to her tonight. I'm going to make a feast of healthy food, and we'll talk after dinner. I... I just can't do it right now. I'll break down in tears." She had to pause before going on, her chest weighted down, her throat thick with pre-tear mucus, and she shivered. "And I can't let her know how much this hurts. She has so much to deal with, and I cannot let her add this to it."
"I understand."
"I love her more than I have ever loved anybody, Carol. I can't...just let this go. I have to do everything I can to support her. I just don't know how, and it's killing me." Her voice broke, and she covered her mouth to keep her sobs back, though she knew Carol could hear. "I feel like I'm losing her all over again, and I want to hurt him as badly as he hurt her. Fuck, if it was just the arm and her leg, it'd be fine. We could through it, but it's so much more than that. It's her brain, Carol. He—he fucking played with her thoughts and emotions with all those drugs, and... and I can't fix that."
Carol's heart broke at her confession. "You don't have to fix it alone. You can fix this together. I know you can. You're both...so right for the other. Don't you see that? You have always been her rock. This constant in our lives together. She always has...gravitated towards you, so I believe... No, I know you can work this out together. You just have to stand by her through whatever comes. I know you can do that. You've been doing it for me since we met. Love her, Tara, and support her. Be her rock. Her constant. You... you just emit this light and warmth and laughter that we both carve. It's why we're all so close, you know?"
"No, I don't know. I don't feel light or warm; I feel like my heart is breaking." She gripped her chest and wheezed. "Don't you get that everything good and happy is gone from me right now? Knowing she is right there, and I can do nothing? I try. I am trying so goddamn hard, but...it's worthless. I'm...failing her."
"No, you're not. You just have to...keep trying. You are a force, Tara. You are a relentless, unyielding force. We both know that. It's why you're one hell of a cop, because you do not give up."
"Because I know I can help. I can find the guy and save the day, but this is a huge unknown! I see her, and I am...bottomed-out. All I have to offer is my love, and love means little against her night terrors and her nightmares and her empty eyes!"
"Then you're stupid! Love is everything against them! God, Tara, stop doubting yourself. If you could see your relationship like I have, you'd get it."
"All I get is my girlfriend is in immense pain, and I can't help her through it." She exhaled. "And I'm tired and vengeful. I want to see him and beat the life out of him. He gets to live while she is slowly decaying inside."
"You don't mean that."
"I mean that."
"Look, just focus on Rosita. We'll be home in a week, and we'll work it out. I promise. It'll be okay."
"Yeah, sure it will." She hung up without saying goodbye and hurried to her apartment, wiping at her eye. She unlocked the door and tossed her keys and phone into the glass bowl, removing her shoes and hearing the water running in the bathroom. She inhaled deep to calm herself and pulled a smile when peeking into the bathroom to greet Rosita, but there was nothing to smile about inside.
Rosita was crouched in the tub, water pouring over her shoulders and down her back, wet wavy hair clinging to her body. Along her back and shoulders, spreading down her arms and splatting across the tips of her toes was an angry hue of red from the sheer temperature of the water. Despite the intensely hot water, Rosita appeared to be shaking, and she was breathing erratically.
"Rosita." She dropped down to her knees beside the tub and turned the water off, setting a hand on her shoulder and almost wincing at the heat there. "What are you doing?"
"It's nice here," Rosita whispered. "It's warm."
"You're close to boils this water ran so hot. What's wrong?" She collected a towel from the bathroom and gently placed it over her shoulders carefully. "Here. Let's get you dry and out of here."
"No, I like it here." She hugged the towel closer to her and smiled as she finger the soft material.
"Why?" She tucked hair behind Rosita's ear and wiped water from her cheeks tenderly.
"It feels safe." She studied Tara's face and frowned. "You think I'm crazy, don't you?"
"No, I don't think you're crazy, but why would you want to be under hot water voluntarily? Like...not even to shower?"
"Because when the sprinklers were on, I knew I was alive. The hot water was the only thing keeping me warm, and I felt okay while it was running. It just feels...safe." She exhaled. "I wanted the baby to feel safe, too. It's...all I could think of."
"The baby's safe. You'd protect her from anything." She smiled lovingly at her, but it was painfully forced, the upward curve not reaching as high, the love resembling more sorrow than anything. "Here. I'll help you outta there."
"I don't want help. I like it here." She pulled the towel closer and moved just slightly so Tara could both no longer be touching her face and couldn't make future touches.
"You can't stay in here forever."
"I'll stay in here as long as I like." She didn't look at Tara anymore. "We all pay the same bills anyway, so... leave me alone."
"Ro, I just...want to be here for you."
"But you're not being here for me. You're being here out of guilt and sympathy. I don't want either, so leave. I want to feel safe and warm. You—you're smothering me."
"By what? Loving you? Because if I had the choice not to love you, I wouldn't fucking pick it. You are the best person in my life, Rosita Espinosa, and I smother because I worry and love. I smother, because you don't talk to me. You have nightmares more and more lately. You—you shake all the time. You don't let me near you unless we have company or...or you hold me in your sleep. That's it. I haven't held you in weeks, and I can't remember the last time I kissed you.
"And I'm not saying I need that. I don't, but I do need to know you're okay. You're not okay, though. You're crying at night. You hide things from me. You—you're pulling away, and you won't let anyone help you. Please, Ro, just talk to me. I know it's been rough with my cases lately, and I know Carol's been gone a while, but you're not alone. We love you. Eric comes by all the time because he loves you and the baby. Maggie's gonna bring some snacks by tomorrow, because she knows what it's like to be six months pregnant and cares about you. She wants to ease this process, and... And so many of us—" She stopped talking to keep her voice smooth and straight, and Rosita looked at her. "We all love you, Ro. We all are here to support you. We want the best for you, and I know that seems like smothering, but when you shut down, we close in out of concern. Just like when Carol was dumped. Just like when Glenn got shot. Just like when Boss was shot. We care so much, so please...talk to us."
She looked at her girlfriend, big brown eyes no longer faux happy and sparkling, face drained of all joy and amusement, dark half-rings forming under her eyes. She'd lost some weight, too, her blazer hanging loosely on her. She was being devoured by love and worry. Rosita had done that. Tara had brought her back at the very beginning, but it was a quick patch followed by an even quicker decision to have a friend's baby. She didn't have time to crumble with all the excitement of the case and the baby, but now... now it all crashed down on her. There was no one to distract her, and it all came spilling out like an overloaded closet.
"I know you might not want to talk to me or her, but again, Denise is great. She's one of the best therapists I know. She's willing to do house visits. She already knows you. Please, baby, let me try and do something. I need you to be okay, and you're not, and it's hurting all of us."
"I don't want to see your ex-girlfriend. It's bad enough you're talking about me to her behind my back." She whispered this, grumpy, annoyed, envious. If Denise was so great and so helpful, why not just go back to her?
Of course that thought brought panic and fear seeing into her bloodstream. She couldn't imagine waking up tomorrow and finding Tara with Denise in their living room, holding hands, kissing, being lovers again. She couldn't stomach it. She knew how good they were together, how much Tara loved her, how serious their relationship was before it ended. She knew if Denise wasn't married, they might give it another go and end up together, because Denise was a good person. She was soft and sweet and emphatic. She was a good match for Tara, Rosita would admit, no matter how much it ached and sickened her stomach.
"I didn't call her to pain you," Tara murmured back. "I didn't know how to help you, but I thought she might. She's still a good friend of mine, especially after we met up again. I... I have boundaries in place, but she is happy in her relationship, and all she wants is for you to be okay again. It's a long road, and you aren't helping yourself by closing us out!"
"Did she tell you that?"
"No, you ass. I'm telling you that, because I freaking love you! And I'm stressed outta my head, and I know it's not fair to make this all about me and my problems, but you won't let me in to know your problems! How do you expect us to last a couple if you shut me out? How do you expect us to last as friends? Seriously, this is...straining us, and you have to feel it, too. There's no way it's just me. It's both of us, like it always has been since last October."
She shivered, tears bunching up in her eyes and blurring the bathtub handles in her eyes, and she closed her eyes to let them fall free. Her lips were cracked and dried, her tongue losing all moisture, and her throat stung. She couldn't do this. She just couldn't, no matter how much she loved or wanted to. She could not fucking do this!
"Please?" Tara tried to touch her, but she flinched, and Tara's heart broke. She gently advised, "All right, um, have at the hot showers then. I'll be back." She wanted to kiss her hair, but she couldn't stand to see her flinch and jolt. She rose up from the tub and headed to her room to change out of her work closing, grabbing her converse and leaving with a soft goodbye.
She cried for thirty minutes in the car before she could drive to the familiar and warm home of her ex-girlfriend and her new wife. She had met Sam a couple weeks ago when Tara first showed up to ask on how best to help Rosita. Denise was happy to assist, and Sam was very kind. She was sure she'd appreciate her more when they had their dinner once Rosita was better and possibly after she'd had the baby. Tara was looking forward to it, but now it only hurt. She didn't know who Rosita would be by then. She hardly knew who she was now.
She couldn't stand that doubt. Of all things she had always been sure of, Rosita and knowing her was always at the top. Rosita hadn't made any major changes about herself until the last year, so Tara was thrown into the dark with no flashlight. It reminded her of when Carol was recovering from being shot—and losing her baby—and she had no clue how to handle it. She wanted to be assured. She wanted to be this familiar and calming presence to Rosita, but apparently that was the bathtub only. Everyone else was getting too close, causing her to shudder and flinch. Tara had never been one of them until today. They'd always been able to console each other, but no that time had clearly passed. The laughter and recovery had vanished, and now Rosita was isolating herself, and Tara didn't know what to do.
She tried to explain that to Denise, but she just started crying again. She felt helpless, like when Lilly first brought Carol home and she was this silent, broken mess who scared Meghan and made Tara question the hell out of her sister. Carol didn't speak or smile or laugh; she only silently sobbed on the couch or curled up in a bawl in the corner of the room. Tara didn't know what to make of her, but Lilly begged her to try, so she did. And it worked out. Carol eventually opened up, spoke, smiled, laughed. It took time, but every step Tara felt reassured that Carol was either moving to a state of okay or was just okay. With Rosita, she felt like she was drowning in all the smiles Rosita had offered the past six months and wondering as she struggled to keep afloat just how many of those were forced.
They had so many good times when she was first pregnant. Rosita was making progress with healing, ad she spoke to Tara about her nightmares and her apprehension. She'd let Tara hold her through the after effects, but now she flinched at her touch. Now she balled up alone the shower. She didn't shut her out, walls erecting faster and higher than she'd ever known them to, and Tara couldn't even climb them. She couldn't physically knock them down. She couldn't be hear from the other side. She was a small shouting thing Rosita seemed to be obvious too as her walls kept her nestled and warm—and away from the people who loved her.
"Why can't she just...let me in?" Tara whispered to Denise in her home office. "I—What's changed?"
"A lot has changed, Tara. She's six months pregnant now, edging into her third trimester." She studied her, and she moved out from behind her desk to sit beside Tara, setting a hand over hers on her knee and squeezing it. "Pregnancy takes a lot. I'm sure you saw this with Lilly."
"Yeah, Lilly cleaned the entire apartment and acted like my mother. She didn't shut me out."
"She also wasn't kidnapped and drugged and mentally tormented for a solid month." She spoke softly, not judgingly, and she moistened her lips. "You love her. I can see that, so I know she sees that too. She just doesn't know what to do with it right now. She is growing a new life, and her body is constantly working. It never stops, and that does cause a chemical reaction in expectant mothers. It can trigger ante-partum depression, which is clearly feeding off the kidnapping. Depression does. It...makes a home in the darkest memories it can find and builds on all her insecurities."
Her eyes burned as she snuffled and huffed. "I'm trying everything I can think to do, but it's... it's like taking to a wall. She doesn't respond."
"Tara, come on, you know that isn't true. She may not respond, but she does hear it. I know she feels it, because I can both feel it and see it. You... you have to give her time. I know that seems like a tall order, because you love her and want to support her, but it's gonna take more than love and support right now. It's going to take every ounce of you, and it's not going to waste. She knows you're there. She wants you there, but it's the depression telling her she doesn't deserve you. She's holding you back. She's—she's this burden to you. And her mindset is so weaken, she's buying into it."
"How am I supposed to fight her brain, Denise? Seriously?"
"You don't. She does. Just be there for her in any way she lets you, and if you think she really does need you when she says she doesn't, still be there. She's not putting up walls to keep you out. She's putting up walls to keep herself in. She's trying to shut out the noise. It won't work, and clearly it's feeding off what he did to her. That can be dangerous."
"How dangerous?"
"Well... he drugged her. I'm sure they were flushed out of her system, but you don't know exactly what he used. He did mix drugs, and they could be addictive. She could have a desire for them, even if she doesn't know what they were."
"She wouldn't do that to the baby."
"We all have our limits and end of rational thought," Denise remarked. "She's been through a lot. It's all coming down on her, and she will seek an escape. I can't say what exactly she'll choose, but...keep an eye on her."
"She didn't go through withdrawals," Tara argued.
"Are you sure? You might have missed it with having to testify and your cases."
"I would have noticed." She hissed this, and Denise sighed. "I am by her side every day, and I see what she went through and what she now goes through. I know the signs of withdrawal."
"But can you let yourself see them in someone you love so much?"
"That's—stupid." She stood up and walked over to the corner of the room, turning to face Denise and balling her hands into fists. "You're wrong."
"Maybe I am, but you did come to see me. You trust what I'm telling you, so...trust me now. If you can't believe me, trust me. Stupid or not. I worry about her and the baby. I'll be honest. I think it was stupid for her to jump into this so soon after the trauma she endured. I don't know why Eric and Aaron thought it was okay to go through with this. Her mind is unstable, even if you don't want to acknowledge that. And being pregnant isn't going to fix that. I don't...understand her thinking. She should have let Beth do this and focused on her recovery."
"It's not like I had a say in the matter, so why are you glaring at me?" Tara snapped. "I didn't want her to do it either, but I had to grin and bear it, because she wanted to. I have to support her, and...while I still don't fully agree with her on this, I do support her now. She's been better with the baby, and... now she's not. Now it's all a mess, and I don't know how to feel or act. It's—it's killing me."
"I'm sorry. I know you don't need my opinion right now." She rubbed her palms on her pants then stood up. "Look, there are some support groups she can benefit from, and I don't suggest any type of medicine given she may abuse it, but there are plenty of oils and supplements that might help."
"She's not a druggie."
"Yes, I'm sure everyone who uses had someone say that about them at one point, too." She scribbled out an address for the support group and wrote down some essential oils Rosita might benefit from. "You didn't come to me so I'd sugarcoat this. We both know you need the hard truth, and here it is."
"You have no idea how thin the ice you walk on is."
"I do know, which is why I'm walking there." She lifted her eyes. "It would be a huge disservice if I lied to you and played it safe. Safe is bullshit. Rosita is a risk right now. Yes, I said a risk. To herself and to this baby, and it isn't entirely her doing. The brain can kill just as much as a germ can. You need to be proactive here. Be two steps ahead of her at all times, check on her when she isn't expecting it, minimizing her junk food intake. You need to be on her at all times. Set up snacks for her to have throughout the day and prepare her lunch and breakfast, if you can. No take out, no fast food, no fatty foods in general, and try to keep to natural sugars."
"She's pregnant, Denise. She likes fatty foods."
"Well, I'm sorry, but she can't have them." She held out the written on slip of paper. "Look into some natural and health substitutes for her cravings. It's all I can suggest."
"You suggest a lot." She pushed herself out of the corner and accepted the piece of paper. "Thank you."
"It's what friends are for." She smiled sweetly and embraced her. "She'll be fine. Just take it a day at time."
She slid her arms around her back and buried her face in her shoulder. "I'm scared."
"Don't be. She's mostly the same Rosita. She's just going through some rainy days."
"That's what I'm scare of. I don't know how to make those days better." She snuffled and closed her eyes. "Can I even make them better?"
"Of course. Just be you. You have some great ideas." She rubbed her back and released her. "Run with 'em."
She nodded and dried her eyes. "I should start paying you, huh?"
She laughed. "If you come back at midnight again, yes."
"Sorry." She sheepishly smiled and folded the piece of paper. "I won't do that again."
"I like seeing you," Denise admitted. "We had a good relationship, and I hope it can become a good friendship. You made an impact on my life, you know, and I want to repay that. If I can help Rosita, I might feel like I have."
"You don't owe me anything."
"Hmm, you'd think that." She smiled. "Stop by a pharmacy and pick up some essential oils. If you need anything more natural and less store-bought, Sam has some friends ho use lavender and sage and CBD for rubbing oils, vapors, bath bombs. It'll help."
"Seriously, CBD oil?"
"Yes, it's stripped down to its medicinal properties. Being pregnant, I'd avoid it until after birth, but they do sell just the oils."
"I dunno..."
"Well, I have some samples." Sam stood in the doorway with a cup of tea, having heard her name and decided to see why. She was curious and glad to help, especially since a baby was involved. She loved babies, and she wouldn't stand by and let a sick brain hurt one. "I don't mind giving them to her."
"You sure?" Denise knew how excited she was about those samples.
"Yeah, I'm sure." She motioned for Tara to follow her and showed her into their bedroom, pulling down the engraved wooden box. "So I have been catching bits and pieces of Rosita's condition, so think a few bath bombs will help. I don't have any, but my friend runs a stall and makes them himself. They're so relaxing and boost any bad mood right out the door."
Tara nodded and listened as she showed her some of the oils she had, Denise smiled in on them, and Sam caught her in the doorway, returning her smile. It had been an issue at first—Tara showing up unannounced at midnight to their apartment. Sam didn't like her wife's ex lingering, especially since she was practically Denise's first serious relationship, and Denise said she was being silly, that Tara was only a friend. They fought for a couple days, but by the time Tara came back and Sam was ready to kick her out, she realized exactly why Tara was coming over. She learned about Rosita and the baby and what happened in January. She put her feelings aside and eventually they dissipated.
Now she wanted to help Tara and Rosita and that baby. She didn't mind sharing, and honestly her friends would love the business. She was helping their small businesses, and she could see Denise smile at her like that more and more. It was her favorite smile of Denise's, and she rarely saw it, so she'd soak it in. That damn smile was more effective than any of these samples anyway.
"Ooh, that smells good." Tara swiped the roller over her wrist and sniffed the oil once more.
"Yeah, it's his favorite to make. He has that in a bath bomb, too. It has lemon, sage, dried flower petals for aesthetic. It won't stain the tub either."
"Can I get it without the flower petals?"
"Oh, yeah. I can text him and ask him to make you a batch of bath bombs. He's working to restock anyway, and it's only thirty bucks. They're sizable and always dissolve great. You get ten of them, and you can customize each one. You can even have stuff placed in the center, like rings or toys. He's really good at what he does, and he loves it." She picked up her phone. "I can get you either a discount or a free bomb. It's up to you."
"You don't have to do that," Tara tried to sway her.
"No, I absolutely do." He had a point system in place for repeat buyers and bringing in more customers got bonus points towards certain items, and Sam had her eye on his holiday set. He only made five a year, and she lost out last year, but not this time. She would use her points to reserve that holiday pack for Denise. She loved peppermint and cinnamon and all those holiday scents. Plus, she had to top her gift last year. It kinda flopped.
"I'm going to start dinner," Denise told her wife. "Are you staying, Tara? I can spare some extra."
"No, but thank you. I—I have to get back to her." She smiled thankfully at her. "I really appreciate this. Thank you both. Seriously."
"Well, thank me by bringing that baby by once she's here," Denise replied. "Or name her after me."
"Uh, not my baby, but I'll let Rosita know. She has middle name say."
"Hey, it makes a good middle name, too," she teased.
She laughed and looked over at Sam who called her name. She placed her order and asked him to put some toys inside to help cheer Rosita help. She wanted her to have that surprise, and Sam giggled her approval. He did offer a small purple rubber duck. How could she turn that down? Rosita could love it. She hoped she would love it anyway. She hadn't been in a loving mood the last couple of days, but she would help her come back from this. No matter what the cost.
– – –
Tara woke up to the sounds of someone knocking on the door. She groaned and rolled off the couch, stumbling to the door and opening it without checking the peep hole to find some random man at her doorstep. She frowned and noticed he held a plastic case of bath bombs. She gasped and knew him as Sam's friend.
"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize." She dug her wallet out of her coat beside her and dug out the amount he told her.
"I worked on it through the night." He shrugged a shoulder. "I know what that type of stress can do to a body, so I wanted to help nip it in the bud as quickly as possible."
"Thank you. I appreciate that." She smiled and handed over a fifty. "Here."
"It's only—"
"No, you deserve this. Thank you." She accepted the package. "I might come by your stall for more later on."
He smiled. "That's great. I have some seasonal scents coming up, and they do sell like hot cakes, so be sure to come early. Or place an order on my website." He gestured to the box. "There's a card with the stall address and web address as well."
"You think of everything, huh?"
"I try." He laughed softly. "Take care, okay?"
"I will. Thank you." She closed the door once he fell out of sight and carried the box over to the coach, sitting down and removing the cover, instantly being hit by the soothing and mild scents inside. She inhaled and wanted to just dump them into a hot bath and soak until she was fifty. "Mmmm."
"Who was that?" Rosita walked down the hall from the bedroom, rubbing a hand over her eye, and Tara hide the box under the blanket she'd been using. "What's that smell?"
"It was a friend. It's nothing." She flicked the TV on. "I'm about to make breakfast. Anything in particular you want?"
"I want eggs." She slid in between the arm of the couch and where Tara was sitting, resting her legs across Tara's lap. "And waffle sticks."
Tara smiled softly. "I just cleaned the waffle stick pan, so I can do that."
She returned her smile. "You're hiding something, because I smell lemons. What is that?"
"It's a surprise."
"All right." She rested her head on the back of the couch. "What day is it?"
"It is Wednesday. I have to be at work by nine today, so I won't get off until six." She traced her kneecap with her fingertip. "I'll prep dinner and lunch for you."
"You don't need to do that. I can order something."
"Yeah, Eric would have a stroke if he heard you say that."
She chuckled softly. "True. I could always visit my mom. She'd make me something good, and you wouldn't be late for work."
"It's not even seven yet."
"Yeah, but I want to watch some cartoons and eat breakfast with you, so that's an hour tops. Plus you have to cook it first, and that's about thirty or so minutes. And prepping meals means I can't have breakfast with you. So I'll go see my mom. I kinda want something homemade. Well, mom homemade."
"All right." She leaned over slowly and kissed her cheek. "I'll make breakfast."
"Hey." Rosita caught her hand on her knee, Tara met her eyes, and she lifted Tara's chin, pulling her in and kissing her lips gently. She lingered on the kiss and kept close once she broke away, whispering, "I'm sorry about yesterday."
"It's okay." She opened her eyes to see tears in Rosita's. "Hey, it is."
"No, it isn't. I...know mood swings are normal, but...that wasn't. I think I hurt you, and I didn't mean to. I just... I don't know. I just couldn't control myself, and I didn't want to leave the bathroom. It feels safe when you're not here."
"Well, why don't you spend some time with your folks? Get out of the apartment now and then?" Rosita nodded tearfully, and Tara pulled the box out from under the blanket. "Here. These are for you."
She shuddered and smiled at the colorful balls resting inside. "I love bath bombs. I haven't used one in months. I think I packed them up and put them into storage." She opened it and inhaled. "They smell so good. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"You're too good to me." She snuffled and lifted her eyes. "I don't—"
"Don't say that," Tara softly interrupted her. "I love you, through bad days and good. You are under so much pressure with the baby, and I do understand, baby. I do. Trust me to be here for you. Even if you tell me to go away."
"I don't...want you to go away." She fingered the smooth surface of the nearest ball, its yellow hue light and calming. She inhaled deeply and smiled, "I love you, too, mi querida."
They spoke for only a moment more, Tara stole another kiss, and Rosita helped her with breakfast. It only took about twenty minutes with them working together, Tara added some fresh fruit for the waffle sticks, and Rosita made her a half pot of coffee. They curled up on the couch and turned on some cartoons, though they spoke more than they watched, and once Rosita had finished eating, she lied down and used Tara's lap as a pillow. She fell asleep to fingers in her hair, Tara hoped this good mood stuck around, and she kept an eye on the clock.
When it was almost time to start getting ready, she carefully lifted Rosita's head from her lap and jumped into the shower. She dried off, threw on some clothes and left her hair down. She poured the rest of her coffee in a to-go cup and covered Rosita up with a blanket, kissing her brow and leaving a note by the bath bombs before heading out. She smiled happily and sent a text to Carol to see if she had survived yet another day in the wild.
Back in the apartment, Rosita woke up to the silence of the apartment and frowned to find Tara had left without waking her. She spotted a note and smiled, grabbing it and reading it, lying back down. She placed the note over her chest and drifted back off for a couple more hours, and when snack time rolled around, baby Grace let her know it. She was going to grab the Nutella and some random fruit, but the container of chocolate hazel spread was gone. She frowned and groaned, grabbing the almond butter instead. She would raise hell later.
She contacted her mom and found out her aunts were over for their monthly wine and dine thing they'd started last year. She grinned and hurried to get dressed, because she knew her Aunt Vee would be there. She had been carving pretty much everything Aunt Vee made, and she was already drooling. She couldn't wait to show Grace how to eat flavorful and culture rich foods. She hoped this kid had her appetite habits, if it obtained anything from her, because those boys needed some spice in their meals. Like majorly.
She drove to her mother's, seeing her dad and uncles outside with beers and cards, and she kissed her dad's cheek on her way inside. Or tried to. Dad caught her hand and kissed her belly, speaking softly to the ángel growing there, and she smiled softly. He knew the baby wasn't hers, but he was supportive and loved her all the same. Her uncle—her dad's older brother, Emilo—eyed the bump she was sporting, but she didn't care enough to ask on the look. He would ask if he was curious enough.
She climbed the steps and found her family inside, her mom hugged her lightly, and her aunts went nuts at the sight of her baby bump. They didn't know the whole story, she believed, but as they talked to the baby and to her, she realized her mother had filled them in. It was nice, actually, and she didn't have to deal with any questions. Or any comments, negative or otherwise. Mom always shut that shit down. Guess they had that in common.
"Do you want anything to drink?" Marie asked her daughter as she sat down in the kitchen with them.
"Um, water's fine." She looked over the half-prepared sides and snacks, and she had to swallow to keep from drowning them all in her saliva. "So...anything I can help with?"
"You can sample these for me." Aunt Vee set a plate down in front of her and smoothed her hair back, smiling. "I know they're your favorite."
"I could cry right now." She hugged her. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. It's good to see you, bella." She kissed her temple. "Where's your...girlfriend, right?"
"Yeah."
"Where's she at?"
"Work until about six. Why?" She helped herself to the various samples on her plate and thanked her mom for the glass of water.
"We could have her over. We eat at six." She rubbed her back. "I haven't gotten to meet her. Frankly I'm insulted."
She swallowed hard. "Y—you want to meet Tara?"
"Of course. Yo've been dating almost a year. It's the longest relationship of yours I've supported, and I want to meet the young woman." She eyed her niece. "You are still together, right?"
"Yes, of course we are, Vee, but...isn't that...much? I mean, we haven't even discussed the whole "meeting the family" thing." She had met Lilly and Meghan, but in her defense she'd met them a long time ago, too, so it didn't count. She wasn't ready to unleash the Martinez/Espinosa family onto Tara. She loved her family, but not all of them were open-minded or polite. The last time they met...someone she loved, they were brutal as all hell, and it made sense then, but she still worried.
"I won't serve this one lengua. I promise." She smiled sweetly, though her intentions were anything but.
"You're the same woman you disinfected my eight-year-old self's busted knee with a lime," Rosita reminded her.
"What? I was eating tacos, and it was there." She shrugged. "Did you die?"
"That shouldn't be a question you ask on cleaning a cut!"
"Oh, hush." She rolled her eyes. "You can make the elote. You don't get to just sit here."
"That's fine, but let me think about Tara coming over. I... I don't trust you."
"That's fair." She smiled at her. "But know that if you don't let me meet her through you, I'll hunt her down and meet her."
Rosita looked at her mother for help, but she was smiling in agreement. "Oh, come on. You met her, Ma."
"Yes, but the family hasn't. Caesar brought Andrea over shortly after he met her, and they weren't even dating yet," Marie pointed out. "And you didn't even tell me you were living together!"
"Yeah, okay, so I failed to report, but that doesn't mean Witch Doctor here gets to meet Tara. She laughed when she squeezed that lime into my cut. I remember laughter." She glared at her aunt. "And you laughed when...my ex got sick."
"He's a pig. Las acciones negativas engendran respuestas negativas." She shrugged a shoulder. "Tara is no pig. I'll be nice."
"I'll think about it." She didn't have the strength to argue with her aunt. She was relentless, and if she hunted Tara down, she'd probably take her to some deeply traditional restaurant where Tara couldn't understand anything, and Aunt Vee would order something gross or deathly spicy or some other evil option. At least Andrea was pregnant when they met. Spared her.
"Think hard." She looked over her belly. "You make a beautiful expectant mother."
"She isn't mine," Rosita reminded her.
"Maybe the next one will be, eh?" She winked and returned to help her sister prepare dinner.
This was why she didn't come home often. She shook her head and returned to eating, feeling her mother eyeing her, and she felt her good mood dissolving. She sighed softly and lost her appetite, picking at the once delicious food on her plate. She wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep until today was over.
"Here."
She looked over when her mother handed her a bowl with sliced fruit inside. "I'm fine."
"It's good for the baby." She wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "And for my baby, so eat up. I know you're hungry."
She smiled softly at her. "Thank you."
"No, thank you for coming over." She kissed her temple. "I miss seeing you."
"I'm sorry. I'll try and come by more."
"I'd love that, mi amor." She smiled back at her. "Eat. You still have to make the elote."
"Yes, ma'am."
––
Dad was leaving to pick up Demi and Liv from daycare, Rosita decided to tag along, and he tested her seat belt about five times before he drove off. He did the same thing with Andrea and any other pregnant woman in their family who drove with him. And the elderly. He did it to the kids, too. It took them fifteen minutes to leave the house when they were kids. It used to annoy her, but she understood it now. It was endearing.
Demi and Liv were stoked to see their Aunt Rosita, Liv pressed her ear into her belly to hear the baby, and Rosita knew she'd have to explain the whole "not my baby, not your cousin" thing to her. She was hoping to not to, but she needed baby cuddles today. Her mood was edging, and she didn't want to fall into the negative again.
"I have to talk to the teacher," Sal told his daughter. "Take Demi. We'll be back."
"Sure." She accepted her nephew from him and watched him escort Liv back inside. "What did your sister do now?"
He seemed to shrug at her. "Dunno."
"Probably causing trouble. Your dad was known for that." She carried him outside. "How was daycare? I can see by this stain you painted."
"Finger painted," he corrected. "I made a cat."
"I'll have to ask Caesar to show me this cat. I haven't seen anything of yours."
He shrugged again and rested his head on her shoulder, sucking on his thumb. Caesar used to do the same thing to Mom according to all the pictures they'd taken of him. Rosita was more independent. She preferred to walk and stand on her own, often growing fussy when Mom or Dad tried to pick her up for pictures or just to hold her. Caesar would tell her to stop acting like a brat then, and she'd throw her shoe at him. They both later learned to fear the chancla.
"I'll be damned."
Rosita stopped cold and turned around slowly, not sure of the voice she just heard and hoping she was dead wrong, but her eyes confirmed she wasn't. "Abraham."
His eyes instantly moved to the six month bump. "Really damned."
"What are you doing here? Your kids are teenagers." She stepped backwards and adjustd her hold on Demi.
"I... I'm sorry. You're pregnant?" He stepped towards her. "I thought you were with Tara."
"I am with Tara. This is Eric and Aaron's baby. I'm their surrogate, now why the hell are you here?"
"Wow. Uh, that's great. Good on you to do that." He cleared his throat and held up a brochure from the daycare center. "I've been checking in on daycare centers for the past few months. This one is my last stop."
"And again why do you need daycare services?" She instantly knew the answer, and her stomach churned. Though she didn't give him a chance, he didn't mention anything about this last time they met. They weren't friends, and he had no reason to, but... why did she feel betrayed? Faintly, but it was there. "I thought you didn't want any more kids."
"I didn't, but...it happens." He inhaled. "We'll have a boy in November, Austin. This is just...research."
"Congratulations."
He gestured to the kid in her arms. "Who's this guy?" He unthinkingly closed the space between them and smiled at the boy, and Rosita tensed up. "He's cute. Hes definitely your brother's, right?"
Demi glared at the stranger, not liking the vibe his aunt was giving off at his closeness. "Back off," he told him around his thumb.
He chuckled, because that was the first thing Caesar told him, too. "Yeah, definitely his kid." He did take a step back. "You... you doin' okay? I, uh, know about...what happened. I meant to... but we're not exactly..."
"I'm fine. Obviously." She saw her dad and Liv. "You should go."
"It's just a question. You don't have to be scared of it."
"I answered it. I'm not scared of anything. You should really leave. My father is coming, and he hates you. Sorta like I do."
"It's been years, Rosita. You shouldn't still hate me." He searched her eyes. "And I know you don't. We buried that last year. You hit me, we moved on. You're still going through it, aren't you?"
"What? No. I love Tara, and I'm not at all interested in you and your weird, shitty marriage."
"I meant the kidnapping." He lowered his voice. "I know trauma, Rose. I was in the army. I get that."
"You don't get anything." She clenched her jaw. "Leave me alone."
He lowered his eyes. "I've changed since we were together. I'm sorry I put you through that, and if you want me help... Well, if you're willing to admit you need help, I know some great support groups. Or if you want more individual—"
"Look, I can appreciate what you're doing here, but if I need help, I will turn to my girlfriend, the woman I very much love and want to better myself for because it's our life together that my moods will affect, not you. You're the past, Abraham, and I hate how long it took me to realize that, but I have, so go home." She searched his eyes. "Go home and be the loyal husband. Don't bury your problems in some twenty-year-old's pussy then come back to her and tell her how she should handle her issues."
He swallowed and nodded. "I hope you take care of yourself."
"I hope you take care of your family and your wife. She deserves that, don't you think?"
"Still as smart as you are sexy." He smirked. "I should go."
She turned and headed towards the car, kissing Demi's curls and advising him not to repeat anything she just said. That would earn such a scolding from Andrea and Caesar if he said pussy or hell or Abraham. She didn't want to think about that lecture. She'd have to bust out the chancla to get him off her back, but Andrea wasn't so easy. She'd still have to sit and take it from her. It was like a verbal chancla, man.
Dad drove them home, Aunt Vee and Emilo took the kids inside, and Sal called to his daughter before she could follow. She hesitated before closing the car door and looking over at him, hands on her belly, and he tapped a finger over the gear shift.
"You know I saw him."
"I was hoping you'd acknowledge that I walked away from me," Rosita replied. "We barely spoke, Dad."
"But you did speak."
"It shouldn't concern you. He has a third kid, and I'm with Tara. I won't screw this up. I'm not the cheating type, and even with him, I wasn't aware of Ellen until much later. You know that." She exhaled, frustration coursing through her. "I would never do to Tara what he did to Ellen, and I would never make the same mistake with him again. I do learn my lessons, Dad, trust me."
"I'm not accusing you of anything. I worry about you."
"Well, don't. Not when it comes to some jackass from my past. I'm happy. I really..." She couldn't say it again, and her eyes burned. He noticed, and she gulped thickly. "I..."
"Cariño?"
"I'm really tired, Dad," she whispered brokenly. "And it's not...this baby. It's not... It's... I don't know." She buried her face with her hands, and he leaned over the console to wrap an arm around her shoulder and bring her close, letting her cry onto his shoulder, and she wailed. "Dad."
She wasn't sure how long she'd cried. She wasn't sure if she was speaking cohesive sentence or if he understood, but he held her and consoled her. He took her pain on as his own, and she couldn't stop shaking. She had so many things she wanted to tell him, but not a one came out in her shaky cries. She wanted him to know, wanted someone to know, but her throat contracted, and she swallowed those words.
She didn't want to admit he was right. She didn't hate him anymore, but she didn't want him to know this part of her. To know how vulnerable and weak she was right now, but he saw it. He called it out, and she was left bare. And that bare began to fester and swell, and it was agonizing. She couldn't survive this alone. He was right about that, but she didn't want his help. She didn't want anyone's help. She wanted to go back to how she was before the break in, before the kidnapping and the drugs and the water and the dark. She wanted to go back more than she wanted anything else in this world...
There was no going back to that woman, however. She was lost to the dark and the water, and these new marks slashed into the question mark Rosita had slowly become. It was such a gradual process she didn't even realize it had happened until seven months later. Slowly it began to creep inside her, slipping in through the cracks in her heart, sliding by the gashes in her soul, and soon she was oozing from it. It had taken hold of her, and it wasn't going to let go. No, it had plans for her, and it was stretching over her brain and her mood and her personality like a a blanket covers a child being tucked in. It planned to consume her whole, and it wasn't simply her it would take.
It would take Tara. Well, not take. It would push—shove—blast Tara out of her life. To have someone who made her feel so loved and care for and warm so close at all times to banish the darkness hindered its plans, and she began to mirror it. She pulled away and build walls with bloody hands and shaky knees. She watched as Tara was steadily covered by bricks made of darkness and self-destructive thoughts, and she could hear Tara pounding as she placed the last brick and hid her entirely from Rosita. She kept building, and even though it hurt—it hurts—she kept building. Her hands scratched, bleeding, festering. Her knees weak and scrapped. Her heavy frozen, numb from the building. From the unending commands in her brain.
She was letting this darkness—this depression—win. As she showered in scorching hot water, as she curled away from Tara in bed, as she kept a distance from all of her friends—her family—and it was worsening. She needed help. She needed a sledgehammer to destroy the wall she'd build, but it wasn't that easy—to have it and have it done. The walls weren't all that thick, but she'd build them with parts of herself. Her laughter, her smile, her drive, her heart. They were all bleeding down and pooling around her ankles, chaining her to the center of her demented castle. And she was allowing it to happen. She didn't fight. She didn't pull Tara into the castle with her and try to knock it down together. She let herself be surrounded, silently wailing to herself as she build wall after wall. She wasn't the jailer here, but she had become a willing prisoner.
That was something Rosita never wanted to consider herself as, so change. Funny how such a small work could hold so much dread and terror. Change. It was all anyone could do in life. Honestly, being good or bad, lying and stealing, helping and smiling. They were all types of change. People grow and learn, but it was all change. Constantly changing personalities and beliefs until the right ones found you. Rosita didn't like this change, so she would change again. Change to be better. Change to be stronger. Change to love and to accept support. Change to leave the pain the past and to be...whole with the people who loved her...with the life growing inside of her. It was long overdue, but first...some items had to be laid to bed.
––
Rosita had invited Tara over for dinner with her family, Tara sounded excited over the phone, and Rosita giggled at the sound of it. Tara went quiet at the sound, and Rosita was worried. Well, she was hurting. To laugh and make Tara stop everything just to soak it in hurt. She hadn't been an inch of herself lately, had she? This was only more reason to break out of her self-made darkness.
"I'll be a little late to dinner. I have a couple errands to run, but I'll be back as soon as I can."
"Yeah, sure. I have their address. Um, I'll see you soon?"
"Yes." She paused and looked at the darkening sky overhead, the streaks of pale pink reaching across the gray night, swirling with the twists of honey-gold against the sunset. It was beauty in its rawest form. Everything was, and it would be again. She knew it. "I love you."
"I... I love you, too." The smile could be heard in Tara's words, and Rosita's lips reflected it. "I can't wait to see you and meet your family."
"Then hurry over."
"I will. Drive safe. I'll see you."
"You, too." She hung up and exhaled before pushing off the wall she was leaning against. She walked over to her car and set her phone down inside her purse through the open window. She hear someone approaching her, and she looked over at the kids playing at the playground, enjoying the last bit of light the day had to provide. Parents were calling to their kids, gathering toys and bags, and the laughter could be hear throughout the entire neighborhood. So could the disappointed moans and groans. Heh, bit of both worlds here. Good.
She turned to face Abraham Ford, dressed up in dark jeans, works boots, a heavy jacket and a beanie. He looked the same as he did this afternoon, only he was unsure. He steadied her with guarded eyes, and he offered a nod as greeting, not certain what this would gain. He knew the lose that might occur, but he had to be willing here. He did owe her that much. Probably more.
Behind the large man was his petite and expecting wife. Ellen. She had no idea what was going on or where they were going, but Abe had told her to just trust him. It had been earned back bit by bit over the past few years, and she was beginning to wonder if that was a mistake. He had proven himself to her, but there so much damage to rebuild. She wondered now if that was the right choice. She stayed for the kids and now for the baby. She had learned to forgive, but now it was all in front of her. The other woman, Abraham, and all the wounds thought heal were ripped open once more.
She swallowed hard and set her hands on her stomach. She would do this. She could be strong. She would stand here and listen to this woman. That was who Ellen was. She was kind. She was thoughtful, and it wasn't Rosita who had broken wedding vows and promises. It wasn't Rosita who lied to her every night. So she would listen and think about the last few months. Maybe there was still more here to look over. Maybe she wanted an out. Maybe it was long overdue.
"Hello." Rosita offered a smile to Ellen. "I know this must be confusing, and I promise I'm not here to make that worse."
Ellen almost laughed outright. It wouldn't have been from humor; it would be at the irony of those words. "I'll believe it when I see it." Spoken softly but bitterly with a look to her husband. "Why did you want to see me?"
"Because I don't think I've ever met you." She inhaled. "Really met you and...asked you to forgive me."
Ellen blinked and focused her eyes on the woman. "Forgive you?"
"Yes." She nodded and stepped closer to her. "I know I wasn't aware of you and the kids during my affair with Abraham, but I am sorry for the pain I partly caused. There were signs, but I ignored them willingly, and for that, I am so sorry."
"Well..." Ellen wasn't sure what to say to that. "I... don't know that I can forgive you...after all that happened."
"I understand how you feel. I... I know betrayal and hurt well, and I wouldn't wish what we did to you on anyone." She shifted her weight. "I'm starting over myself, like you both have with each other, and I want to put this behind me. I have with Abraham, but not with you. I want you to know how I felt and how I feel now, because how can I hope to have any good, lasting relationship with anyone when I'm still lugging around the burdens of an...unwanted affair?"
Ellen drew air in deep and approached the young woman, setting her hands on her small shoulders and smiling softly at her. "I can't give you what you're looking for, Rosita. I can't help you or grant you forgiveness enough to erase whatever's haunting you. I don't have that power. You just have to...move on. It'll fade on its own if you're on your right path. I can't speak for you—nobody can—but it'll be fine. You seem to be making great progress."
Rosita exhaled. "I don't think so."
"You are," Abraham murmured, avoiding eye contact with her and keeping his gaze over her shoulder on her car. "You and Tara have somethin' real, something...great. I saw her when you were missing, and you don't have to doubt anything."
"I don't doubt her," Rosita retorted. "If I am sure about anything—it's hers. I'm just...a mess."
"That's pregnancy for you. It's not as peachy as people make it out to be. There's a lot going on inside of you right now, and it's just the baby." Ellen squeezed her shoulder. "You need support now, and once the baby is born and your body regulates itself again, you'll figure out what's hazy now. Or maybe in labor, you'll figure it out. Who can say but you.
"And it sounds like you just need to forgive yourself. You don't need anything from me. You've been hard on yourself enough. I can see that, and you need to cut that shit out." She smiled softly and dropped her hands. "Honestly, this is awkward for me. I...I thought I'd hate you. I thought I'd want to punch your lights out, but I don't. Maybe back when it all so fresh, but right now we're in the same boat. As singular beings, not as partners in a relationship."
Rosita shuddered and set her hands on her stomach. "Not so similar."
"We're both pregnant and lost. I love parts of my life, like I'm sure you love parts of yours, but the past is a haunting shadow. I'm finding it hard to move on, but I have to. I'll have no life—no future—if I don't learn to let go. If I want a good future, I have to accept the good present I have now. It's like...walking alone in the dark. You can't see where you're going, or really see where you've been, but you know you have to keep moving. Sooner or later, you won't be walking alone in the dark. You just have to make it that far."
"And here I thought I was done crying." She scolded herself and pinched the bridge of her nose. "Jesus."
"You're allowed to cry." She looked at Abraham. "We've both been through so much. We deserve to be happy."
"You do," Abe agreed, meeting his wife's eyes and seeing a long ignored answer there. "You really do."
"And that starts now." She shifted her eyes to Rosita's. "You hear me? It starts now."
She nodded. "Then this is goodbye. Well, hello and goodbye."
She chuckled. "Hello. Goodbye." She stepped back from Rosita. "Good luck, Rosita, and thank you."
"For what?" Rosita snuffled, not sure how in hell this woman could ever thank her. How many brain cells were being smothered by this pregnancy?
"That's for me to know. We've shared enough, don't you think?"
"Yes, definitely." Rosita rubbed a hand under her eye. "Um, good luck to both of you."
"I think we'll need it." She waved and turned on her heel to walk back to the car a few feet over.
"Here." Abraham handed her pocket pack of tissues, and she accepted it to blow her nose. "Kids don't solve every problem."
"Especially since you're the problem, Abraham." She met his eyes. "Don't you get that? It's why we worked. We're both problems, but...Tara made me into more than a problem. Carol made me a sister. Glenn made me poker player. Aaron...is making me an aunt. And who knows what else I'll become, but a problem is something I will never be again. Can you say that? Honestly?"
"I don't know." He laughed bitterly. "I guess that's the issue now."
She folded the tissue and lifted her chin. "Then fix the issue. Fix yourself. It's not that hard."
"It is when I thought I'd already fixed myself."
"Well," she shifted her weight and stepped back, "uh, I should go."
"Always the one to walk away." He tucked his hands into his jacket pocket.
"Only from you." She tossed the tissue into the trash and walked to the driver's side of her car, slipping inside and not saying goodbye. Goodbye had come a long time ago. And now it was time for her to follow through with it.
She drove back to her parents' house, letting the cool night air blow in on her until she couldn't stand it then turning on the heat to thaw the chill in her bones. She gripped the wheel and listened to the radio, feeling confident with herself in that moment. There were no shadows here. Only her and Grace, and it was lovely. She bathed in that feeling the entire way and didn't stepped out of it. Not even when her eyes landed on Tara waiting for her outside with a blanket and a cup of still steaming tea.
She parked, shut the car off and stepped out. She tucked hair behind her ear and inhaled, exhaling a shudder.
"C'mere." Tara held the blanket open, and Rosita grinned, joining her. Tara smiled at her and studied her face, seeing that she'd been crying, and she kissed her cheek gently. "It's good to see you."
"The feeling's mutual." She leaned against her and nuzzled her face into Tara's neck, inhaling the scent of soap and spice there. She closed her eyes and said, "I went to see Abraham and his wife."
Tara gulped and cleared her throat. "Oh, yeah?"
"I thought I needed Ellen's forgiveness, but...I was dead ass wrong." She went quiet for a moment then moistened her lips. "I need to let the past be, but I can't do that alone—and I can't do it fully with you either."
"I know." Tara clasped her hand with her free hand and squeezed it.
"I...don't want to talk to your ex, but...maybe she has an idea of someone I can talk to. I'd like to get her opinion. She always was a smarty pants." She tried to make it light, but her voice broke, and she moved even closer to Tara. "I just need to get help and...get out of my head."
"I'll call her tomorrow morning, and we'll get it sorted. I'll be with you as much or as little as you need me. You'll find a way through this. You always do." She set the cup of tea down beside her foot and rubbed her stomach, feeling Grace kick underneath. "You are one of the strongest people I know. You repress like a son of a bitch, but you always come out better. So does Grace. She wouldn't be kicking so hard if she didn't. She's tryna kick your ass into gear."
"Shut up." She laughed weakly and lifted her head to glower playfully at her girlfriend. "Maybe she's tryna kick your ass for not sharing the tea."
"Nah, it's your behind she wants to kick." She kissed her temple. "You're keepin' her out in the cold. C'mon. I have so many uncles and aunts who want to meet me. Let's go."
Rosita pressed her lips together. "You sure you want that?"
"Of course. You're family is my family." She collected the tea cup while Rosita hugged the blanket tighter around herself. "Besides we're living together, so we're in a serious relationship and coming up on a year together. We kinda have to hit this milestone soon anyway."
"That's true, but don't say I didn't warn you."
She grasped her hand and kissed her knuckles. "I'm not scared easily."
"Good, because my Aunt Vee is here, and she's...a lot to take in. I mean, really, a lot. You might want to start with my uncles. They're not all that comfortable with us being together while I'm carrying our friend's child and live in sin with you, but they love me. I know they'll grow to love you, despite what they believe."
"Umm, living in sin?" Tara frowned deeply.
"Oh, not because you're gay, and we're a couple. It's the out of wedlock sex. My uncles are old-fashioned in that way, but they're fine with sexuality. Surprisingly, but I think my cousin coming out ease them into the whole process of bisexuality and homosexuality and all of that spectrum." She stopped by the door. "But sex without a ring on this finger is bad. Did you know we could incur the wrath of God?"
"I think we have an understanding by now." Tara smirked at her.
"Well, I hope we find an understanding again once I'm sprouting life, because let me tell you I am—"
Rosita as cut off by the door ripping open and her mother standing in the doorway with an inpatient look in her eye, arms closed and lips tight. Rosita knew instantly they were in for a long night of prodding. It was barely eight-thirty, too. Ugh, her family events lasted for years. Maybe she'd have the baby now and spare them.
"Are you coming in or not?" She pulled out a smile for Tara and sent a glare to her daughter. "You're late, by the way."
"I know, Ma. I'm sorry. I'll buy a watch." She kissed her cheek and stepped by her. "I'm gonna wash up then I'll be in for all the food."
"Good." Marie set a hand on Tara's shoulder blade once she was inside, guiding her towards the dining room. "I hope you're hungry, cariño. We made plenty."
The table was full to bursting with food and family, Tara had briefly met everyone then was sent to Rosita's room by her mother as an escape form Aunt Vee who went outside for a smoke break. Now this Aunt Vee was closing in with a huge smile and a plate of appetizers. Tara had a feeling she was in for a long night, but the best memories were made in long nights.
Rosita joined them and sat down beside Tara, they said grace before they dug into the meal, and the waves hit. It started with Uncle Luis then it moved to Aunt Betty, and it just circled around and around. Her parents were no help, and Rosita couldn't help but enjoy watching her family tease her girlfriend, and Tara was good natured about it. The avoidance jokes mostly when to Rosita since it was her nature, and Uncle Lou went after her for it. Lightly and with some good advice, but still they weren't going to let up. She had a shit dating track, and she reminded them of this. Keeping the whole affair with a married man out of it, of course.
"She's lovely." Aunt Vee helped Rosita with the desserts, and Rosita couldn't stop smiling. "And she makes you smile like that. Such a lovely smile. I've missed it."
"We all have." Cousin Ali grasped Rosita's chin and pinched it, and Rosita groaned. "Mi sobrina rosa, el amor te queda bien."
"Get off." Rosita pulled her face away and sent her a glare. "We're the same age."
"But I've always felt older than you, so bite me." Ali slid by her and leaned against the counter. "Tara's a good fit. Finally. I've been waiting years for you to find someone so we can double date. I can only handle so much of your brother before I put my own head through a wall. I love him, but algún día ese hombre acabará muerto, y estaré en España. Mark my words."
"Stop threatening your cousins life." Uncle Luis set Liv down on the floor to let her help carry in desserts. "And you." He shifted his eyes to Rosita. "Get over here."
She frowned and walked over to him. "What is it?"
"What is it? You come in here, happy and carrying a blessing for your friends, and you don't even gift your best uncle a hug?" He chuckled and embraced her. "It's good to see you, Rosita. I've missed you."
"Yeah, we all have." Aunt Vee smacked her butt with a dish rag, and Rosita jolted, using Uncle Luis as a shield. "I can still get you."
"I don't doubt it." Rosita huffed. "I'm sorry. I've been through a lot. You can't know all of it."
"It's all right. We don't need all of it." Her father set a hand on her shoulder. "Just all of you."
"And to hound Tara with awkward teen pictures," Aunt Betty called from the hall closet. "You have to see her eighth grade prom picture!"
Rosita cursed. "I thought we weren't going to be this family."
"Yeah, but we let Andrea in and now we are that family." Vee winked at her and clasped her hand. "You were a beautiful teenager, though. You still are."
"Her acne had acne," Caesar jested from the corner of the room with Liv, making sure she didn't drop the plate she held. "Not so beautiful."
"Hey now." Sal leveled a finger at his son. "You were the same."
Ali giggled. "I'm pretty sure the only beauty in this household in those dreadful teenager years was Uncle Rob. Even then he did wear makeup to cover blemishes."
"Doesn't help that he had a flair for drama," Uncle Luis commented. "Be glad he is just your uncle. You'd have killed him if he was your brother."
"That's enough with the world kill." Andrea pointed behind her. "C'mon, we have home movies and photo albums. We need the desserts now."
"Oh, God, not the home videos." Caesar ditched his daughter to his father to try and stop his mother.
"Oh, yes." Ali grinned. "The Halloween clip! You have to see it, Andrea and Tara." She ran after him to stop him. "Don't you dare hide it!"
Everyone cleared out of the room, Aunt Vee remain and waited for Tara to come and get the wine Rob liked to have with dessert. She held the bottle and told her to sit. They sat at the small table in the corner, and Vee searched her face.
"You're lovely," she commented. "Beautiful, funny, charming. You've certainly won the family over."
"I just...am being myself." Tara couldn't help but smile at the compliments. "Thank you, though. You're all great. Really. It's nice to be around family. Other than mine, because we bug the crap outta each other."
Vee chuckled. "We can all say that about our families."
"That's...not wrong." She straightened in her chair. "But you didn't ask me to sit for this."
"No. I didn't." She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. "Rosita is important to this family, as important as you will become if my feeling about you two is right, and I know how she pulls into herself you should be aware of that. It isn't you. It's her. It's a protective measure, but don't let it come between you two—"
"Not to be rude, but I know. I've been friends with Rosita for over a decade. I know her very well, and she won't push me away with needing time for herself. I respect that, and I know when to pull her out. I've done it a couple times in the past." She set her hands on the table. "I'll take care of her, dating or married or just as friends. She's important to the way I live my life, and I'm not going to let anything change that. We'll have hardships and fights, but we've overcome so much, I know we can handle whatever comes next.
"And you don't have to worry. She won't push me away or be alone in her thoughts. I'll be with her as much as she needs, and so will our friends. Rosita has a whole circle of support outside her blood family, and we take care of each other like blood does. I... I won't let anything happen to her if I can help it, and she'll do the same for me. It's how our relationship was built. Conflict doesn't always end badly. At least for us."
Vee smiled slowly. "I see. Well, I had a great, big lecture laid out on how to take care of my baby niece, but...you got her?"
"Yeah," Tara nodded, "I have her."
"Good." She reached over and gripped her hand. "Then let me say how happy I am to have you with us tonight, Tara. I know a good match when I see one, and I am glad my neice has such good taste."
Tara beamed, a truly lovely mega watt smile. "Thank you. That really means a lot."
"You mean a lot. Now hug an old woman and get in there before the videos start." Vee rose up and embraced the young woman, murmuring softly, "Tu amor sanará el alma de Rosita, querida."
Tara pulled back. "What does that mean?"
"Mmm." She patted her cheek and collected the wine without another word, passing her nice on the way and booping her in the nose without stopping.
Rosita smiled after her aunt and caught Tara on her way out of the kitchen. "Hey, you ready for four hours of brutal teen photos and home vids?"
"Four hours?!" Tara gaped. "What? No, please. I love you, but I—I'll never get those hours back."
She giggled. "Too bad, Chambler. You're with the Espinosas now. You gotta suck it up. Why do you think we're having wine and desserts after we ate enough to barf? You'll digest by the second DVD."
"Mother of God."
"Yep. Don't try and run. Dad's spirited for his age." She laced her fingers through Tara. "C'mon. You can sit next to me and talk to Gracie."
"Ooh, what a bright side." She sighed deeply. "All right. Let's do it."
"Such a champ." Rosita guided her into the living room and over to the couch. "Oh, come on, my eighth grade prom? We're gotta go for the worst first?"
Caesar winked from where he sat on the floor with Liv in his lap. "Props to yours truly. You're welcome."
Rosita sent him a glare. "I'll get you back for this."
"Enjoy, Tara." He bit into the cookie Liv had handed him. "You'll love it."
Tara wrapped an arm around her girlfriend's shoulders. "Well, I already do love it."
Rosita smiled softly. "That's sweet, but this is my actual nightmare." She narrowed her eyes to see less as it began to play, and Caesar faked a scream. "Hey!"
"The horror, the horror," he mused, covering his eyes. "I'll never see again!"
"Cut it out." Andrea smacked him with a pillow. "Or you'll never sleep with me again."
"Ooh," Ali clicked her tongue. "I knew I liked her."
"Too much information," Betty groaned.
"I meant in our actual bed," Andrea corrected with pink painting her cheeks.
"She can't resist me." Caesar flashed a winning smile.
The entire room rolled their eyes at him, Tara and Vee both threw a pillow at him, and he made a face before snuggling his daughter closer and trying to steal her dessert by focusing her attention on the TV. Tara watched Rosita wince at her awkward teenage self, and Tara brought their interlocked fingers to her mouth and kissed her knuckles one by one before setting their hands over her heart. Rosita relaxed instantly, and Marie smiled at the sight of them. Sal chose the moment to bust out the Polaroid and snap a picture, jolting all of them and damn near blinding half of them. The room filled with both groans and complains in Spanish while he flicked the picture and smiled at the product.
He tenderly held the picture and said to him, "Ah, perfecto, mi familia."