Chapter 2

The sun rose peacefully on the house on the hill. It dimmed the night at first, gradually turning up its heat until the black receded in the wake of so much blue. Lovely blue sky and dying night. The world coming into being. And then the little baby cried for his mother.

"I got it," mumbled Steve, turning over on the bed. But he fell back to sleep. So it was Diana who got up from the bed, her hair frizzy and a mess.

"David," she said, approaching the crib. "What's the matter, baby? Are you hungry?"

David was a cheery baby with soft blue eyes. When he cried it was barely more than a little moan, as if he only wanted to politely disturb them. It always melted her heart.

Behind her, Steve appeared. He was rubbing his eyes. "It was my turn."

"You always say that," said Diana. She took David into her arms and laid him against her chest. She pulled down her blouse and carefully raised her nipple to David's mouth.

"I don't think the 5am feedings are over yet."

"You're beautiful when you're like that, Di."

"It's all him. He's the beautiful one."

The little baby looked up at her with his blue eyes as he suckled at his mother's breast. Steve put his hands on her shoulder.

"I wish I could paint or draw, Di. To show you the kind of mother you are."

"You're sweet," said Diana. "But if you really want to help, you can start putting up the decorations."

Steve laughed and kissed her on the cheek. He quickly put on a shirt and jeans. But he lingered at the doorway, savoring the image of Diana nurturing their son. Then he walked out, his footsteps upbeat and excited.

"And what are you thinking?" Diana whispered to her son. "What mysteries are in your head?"

The little baby only looked up at her with big blue curiosity. Some milk dribbled down his cheek.

Diana slowly sank into a nearby chair. It had been two decades since she last breastfed. She needed to savor it. There would be a time when her baby would stop suckling at her breast and then he would be walking out to take his driver's license exam. That's how it happened with Emma and William. It went by so fast.

After a few minutes, little David moved his head to the side, evidently having had his full. He shifted silently in her arms and soon fell back asleep. The soft sound of his breathing, barely discernible, was in tune with his rising tiny belly. Diana almost cried. He was effortless and adorable. He was perfect.

She gently put him back into the crib and began dressing herself for the day. David would sleep for a few more hours and she needed to take advantage of them. But she also lingered at the doorway, looking back at the crib with an uneasy sensation in her mind. He was safe, she knew that. There was even a baby-cam on his crib. Nothing would hurt him.

And still, there was doubt prickling at her mind. It was the same with Will and Emma. She wanted to be around her children at all times, to keep them safe. But that was a foolish idea, a part of her knew that.

Downstairs, Steve was sitting at the kitchen island. He was drinking coffee while reading a newspaper.

"Since when do you read the paper?" she asked.

"I always read the Times."

"I mean an actual paper, Steve. Normally you read on your tablet."

"Oh, right." Steve put the paper on the table. "I subscribed for Alfred. We're getting it for the rest of the week, too."

Diana kissed her husband on the cheek. "That's sweet of you."

She poured herself a steaming cup and searched their fridge for fruit and yogurt. She laid out her breakfast on the table and sat across from her husband. Steve picked up the paper again.

"So who is picking Alfred up from the airport?" asked Diana.

"Emma. He gets in at 2."

Steve read silently for a moment longer before announcing in a low voice. "Gordon's retiring next week."

"I know that. It was all over the news last month."

Steve sat back in his chair. He shook his head. "Hard to believe he's done."

"Do you know who the mayor is picking to replace him?"

"Everyone's got Yindel pegged. She's tough, smart, and she's kissed enough behinds to get the job. Plus she's playing ball with the city bigwigs on the C.A.R.E. ordinance."

"What do you mean 'playing ball'? Is she sending in police officers to clear out the homeless?"

Steve put his mug down. "I don't think it'll come to that, Di."

"CARE," said Diana derisively. "The city doesn't care about the homeless in New Gotham, Steve. They just want everyone out so they can build new condominiums and office spaces."

Steve put a hand on her arm. "Don't do it to yourself, Di. You're not an autocrat. You have a board of stockholders who have a voice, too."

"I know," said Diana. "But how am I going to explain to David when he gets older that his mother's company—his family's company—backed a referendum to evacuate people out of their homes?"

Steve turned the page of his newspaper—a wide, sweeping gesture that looked entirely too grand. "That's why they're moving them to the shelters in Old Gotham: that's the "Relocation" in C.A.R.E.: 'Community Aid, Relocation, and Engagement' in C.A.R.E."

"It's 'Removal,' Steve," said Diana quietly. "They're not hurting anyone there. They just want to shove them over to the Old Gotham where they'll suffer in silence."

The sound of heavy boots came down the staircase, and then appeared the youthful face of William Trevor. His eyes were red, like he hadn't slept, and his hair was messy and wet from a rushed shower. He wore a black uniform with a gun belt around his waist. He was fixing the silver badge across his left breast, it read: GCPD.

"Morning," he mumbled, without looking at them. He went straight for the coffee.

"Good morning, son," said Diana. "How did you sleep?"

"I slept enough," said William. He poured coffee while he fiddled with the badge at his chest.

His movements said so loudly what his lips didn't. There was an edginess to him. Not violent but restrained. Hunched shoulders and a general reluctance to open up. William Trevor was not a morning person.

"You look so handsome in that uniform," said Diana. She smoothed the creases along his shoulders. "How's work?"

"It's fine," said William. He still had his back to her. "Still a trainee. Most of the time I'm answering thefts and domestic disputes. Been kicking out squatters mainly."

"She meant how do you like your work?" said Steve. "Do you enjoy it?"

William turned around slowly to face them. He stirred his coffee methodically. "I don't know, Dad, do you enjoy your job? Or how about you, Mom?"

"Will," said Diana heavily, "We just want to make sure you're okay."

Steve threw her a knowing look. They both knew their son. He could be colder and stiffer than a stonewall.

William's badge kept swinging out of place. He tried to fix it while sipping at his coffee.

Diana calmly batted his hands away. "Let me."

William watched her with a smile that could almost be mistaken for gratitude.

"We're just really proud of you, Will," said Diana. She smoothed the creases around the badge. "Soon you'll officially be Officer Trevor."

William looked a little amused. "Yep, and I'll be making forty grand a year, Mom. You're proud of that?"

"I know it's not about the money, Will," said Diana, with a pained smile on her face. Even she was sometimes annoyed by her son's angst.

"What your mom is trying to say is that we love you, Son," said Steve. "That's all that matters. You could be a garbage man, and we'd still love you."

William coolly sipped his cup. "What's wrong with being a garbage man?"

Diana nearly rolled her eyes. "For heaven's sakes, Will. . . "

Steve laughed, which elicited a small grin out of William. That's how they were – conspiratorial and always in on the joke. Diana meanwhile returned to her yogurt, irritated. "Your birthday party starts at 7pm tonight, William Trevor. Try to be on time?"

"I'll try," said William. "But I can't make any promises—"

Steve coughed politely.

"I—I'll be there on time, Mother," said William. Steve winked at him approvingly.

They heard more footsteps coming down the staircase, but unlike William's heavy boots, these footsteps were precise and bright. And the person was humming.

"See you guys later," said William all-of-a-sudden. He started walking out of the kitchen.

"You forgetting something there?" said Diana. She had a knowing smile on her face.

William stopped in his tracks. He looked visibly displeased, as if debating something in his mind. He doubled back into the kitchen and gave both of his parents a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you," said a visibly pleased Diana. "And please be safe."

"I will, Mom," mumbled William. But before he could disappear from the kitchen, his badge swung loose off his shirt and clattered to the floor. It landed just underneath the kitchen island.

"Dammit," hissed William. He got on all fours and pawed for the badge. But it was too far deep.

A pair of heels suddenly stopped before William's eyes. A pair of tan legs extended up from these heels and connected to the body of Emma Trevor. She was looking down at William. She wore a confused, pleased smile.

"Little-brother," she said. "I thought we were going to work together?"

William reluctantly got to his feet. He measured up dead even with his fraternal twin, despite her heels. They had the same hazel eyes, and the same jawline. But that's where the similarities ended between them. Emma, in her stylish pantsuit to match her heels, with her hair neatly parted about in a chic bob, and holding an expensive purse, looked like she was a fashion designer on her way to a gala. And William, in his standard-issue uniform—with his tired face and black boots, looked like the security guard at that gala.

Emma eyed the kitchen island. "Did you drop something underneath it?"

"No," said William.

Emma laughed. "Of course, you did."

Diana appeared with a broomstick. "Emma, move over. I'll try and poke it out."

Diana swiped underneath the kitchen island with the fibers of the broom, but she caught nothing but flecks of dust. Diana squatted on her knees and slid the broom laterally underneath the kitchen island. She swung the broom in wide arcs, but no to avail.

Steve hopped off his seat. "I'll get the vacuum, Di."

William looked at his watch. He was already running late.

Emma, who could not hide her disbelief anymore, very carefully set her purse to the side.

"You guys are ridiculous. Watch out, Mom."

Emma grabbed one side of the kitchen island, and with the slightest effort, lifted the kitchen island clean off the floor. The badge lay in the middle of a square outline of dirt. Emma picked it up with one hand, and with the other, she carefully lowered the kitchen island back into place.

Emma held the badge out to William. "There you are, little brother."

William did not share the same enthusiasm as his sister. He was scowling, and accepted the badge with resentment clear on his face. Emma looked at him curiously.

Diana got to her feet slowly. She was not happy either.

"Emma, we've talked about this. You can't keep breaking the rules."

Now Emma looked at both William and Diana in disbelief. "Oh please, there's nobody here, Mom. You were taking forever! And Will was going to be late, weren't you, Will?"

Emma turned to her brother. It was clear that she needed his help against their mother. And because Emma had just helped recover William's badge, she expected he would come to her defense—if not out of brotherly compassion, then at the very least to return the favor.

Instead, William shoved his hands into his pockets. He refused to meet any of them in the eye. "I have to go," was all he said before ducking out of the kitchen. They all heard his stormy footsteps as he crossed the living room and exited out the front door.

In the absence of William's support, Emma swung her purse like it was a small toy. So he had abandoned her. She didn't know why she felt disappointed. He was always a moody boy. Still, it hurt to be abandoned – especially whenever their mother was on her case about the rules.

Emma thought it best to change the subject. She didn't want to have to defend herself again. She looked around the kitchen. "Do I smell coffee?"

Steve nodded. "I'll pour you a cup, baby."

Emma placed her purse on the table and sat down. She was a morning person, just like her father. Her energy infectious as was her radiant smile, and when she sat next to Diana, it was hard to tell them apart. However, Diana still looked displeased at Emma. It was clear that her mother was not yet finished with the scolding.

Steve slid a steaming mug in front of Emma. "Two sugars with cream."

"Mhmm," sipped Emma. "Dad, this is really good."

"The secret is low expectations," said Steve, his eyes twinkling. "It's the first thing you've had this morning. You got nothing to compare it to."

Emma sipped more coffee. She could feel her mother's eyes still on her. Steve noticed, too, which is why he quickly changed the subject.

"So you're picking up Alfred at 2pm, baby. What time does the party start again at, Diana?"

Diana knew immediately what Steve was trying to do, but now Steve was on Emma's side, leaving Diana outnumbered. And this, more than anything, reminded Diana that it was silly to remain frustrated with her family. She let her displeasure go.

"Seven o'clock," said Diana. She turned to Emma with a more gentle tone. "Did you guys get Alfred anything for his homecoming?"

Emma leaned back in her chair. She looked a little more relaxed. "I got him a record player and some jazz vinyl. I think Will got him a gift card or something."

Diana's face fell. "A gift card. Seriously, Emma?"

"I told him to come with me to the Mall last week. He said he couldn't go."

"You know the hours Will works, Emma. You couldn't have bought him something while you were at the Mall?"

Emma put her coffee down. Now their mother was coming to her brother's defense, when moments ago he refused to come to Emma's. "Yes, Mom. I thought of that, but he said he could buy his own present for Alfred. So what was I supposed to do?"

But before Diana could respond, Steve intervened again, noticing the tension between mother and daughter.

"I'll talk to him when he gets back, Di," said Steve. "Man-to-Man. Don't worry. We'll go to the batting cages or something."

Emma, who was raising her coffee up to her lips, snorted. This sent coffee spraying all over the table.

Diana closed her eyes. Her children loved to test her patience.

"I'm sorry," said Emma. "It's just—Will going to the batting cages!? You have a better chance of getting Alfred to do the tango."

"You're not helping, kid," said Steve in an obviously displeased tone, although the corners of his lips were upturned.

"Fine, fine," said Emma. She was picked up a paper towel and started on the counter.

Steve took the towel from her. "Go on, I'll clean this up. Say hit to Alfred when you see him."

"Thanks, Dad." She kissed her parents both on the cheek. "See you guys tonight."

"Have a good day, my love," said Diana in a tired but tender tone.

Steve winked at Emma. "Go get 'em, baby."

When Emma was gone, Steve wiped the counter clean of coffee. Diana watched him.

"I know you're tired of hearing it," said Steve as he worked. "But she looks exactly like you, Di. Down to that killer smile."

"That's nice to hear, Steve. I just wish she listened to me."

"She does listen to you."

"No, she really doesn't. You don't notice it because you're Dad, whereas I'm just Mom."

Steve stopped wiping the table. He looked up at her, confused.

"I have no idea what you mean, Di."

Diana got up from the table. She kissed Steve's bewildered face.

"You're adorable when you're confused, Steve. That's why I can't stand to be angry at you."

Diana collected the dirty dishes and went to the sink. Steve put away the paper and went out the living room. When he returned, he carried an armful of party supplies and set them out on the kitchen table.

"Want me to start in the living room?"

Diana rinsed a mug in the sink. "Maybe just tie up a few balloons. Save the rest for the backyard."

"Yes, ma'am," said Steve. He started blowing up half a dozen balloons. Across the leathery face of the balloons were hazel lettering: twenty-one years!

"Twenty-one years," repeated Diana. She watched the water sluice over the mugs.

Their kitchen window held view over their backyard, and by extension, the basin below. From their house atop the hill they oversaw the great silhouette of Gotham City. The blue skyscrapers like giant marble statues rising from the ground. The sun was out, and the cumulous clouds were painted perfectly against a waterblue sky. It was a lovely summer day.

So why did she feel so nervous? Her body twitched with a horrible sense of dread. Suddenly, she had to go to the bathroom. Maybe she would stop with the French press. The coffee was evidently too strong.

She returned her attention to the mugs before her. With her left hand she held a mug underneath the water. With her right she started scrubbing with the sponge. She focused on the lathering.

"Hey, Di," called out Steve's voice. "I know we haven't talked about it, but I was thinking, since the kids are older, and Alfred is going to be in town, maybe we should try and have one more trip to the Sierras for Christmas. Maybe Thanksgiving?"

"Aren't you the one who said you wanted to have Christmas at home?" she returned.

"I know. But how many more Christmases does Alfred have in him? I think we should go big. We don't go out for the holiday's as much anymore. Maybe I'll try and get the kids to dress up for Halloween—"

The mug in Diana's hand shattered. Her hands snapped back instinctively, and this sent the broken pieces clattering across the kitchen counter. A few pieces tumbled over the edge and onto the floor. The water kept running. Diana stared at the broken pieces. She didn't understand.

Steve's footsteps rushed to the kitchen. He hung at the doorway, holding a hammer in his hand.

"What's going on?"

"I—I broke a mug, Steve."

"Oh." He looked at the broken pieces on the floor. "That hasn't happened in a while."

"Yes," said Diana. Her throat felt dry and itchy. She smoothed out her shirt to hide the trembling of her fingers. "I guess my mind slipped."

She went to get the dustpan and broom, but her thoughts were in a million places. Why was she nervous? On a day like this, with the cumulous clouds and the waterblue sky? What could be wrong in paradise? She thought about her children. They were twenty-one years old. They'd be starting their own lives, out there, in Gotham City, underneath those clouds and that waterblue sky.

"Di," said Steve's far away voice. "Di? Are you there?"

"Steve? Yes, I'm here."

Steve took a closer look at her. His face has lost its playfulness. "What's going on, Di?"

"Nothing," she said quickly, a little too quickly. "I'm just…the coffee. I had too much."

But the truth was that there were deeply buried memories surging up from oblivion—things she thought she had forgotten: the Long Halloween, the holiday killings. And there was the secret she swore to a dying man.

I'll protect your city. I'll protect our children.

"Diana," said Steve slowly. He was holding her face. "Are you sure you're alright?"

And quite suddenly, the nervousness vanished in her stomach. The thoughts fell away like so many weightless leaves in the wind. She was herself again. Her husband was holding her.

With a measured confidence, Diana looked back into Steve's tender, concerned eyes. "I'm fine, Steve. I just forgot that we have a lot to do. The party, the airport, and now the Commissioner's retirement. They'll probably expect us to make an appearance."

Steve looked at her doubtfully. He was no fool. He knew there was more than what she was saying. But instead of pressing the issue, his face slowly split into a charming, patient smile. "Easy there, Princess. You may be super but you're still human. And we humans take it a day at a time, right?"

In that moment, Diana remembered why she married Steve Trevor. He was smart, and he was handsome, but most of all, he was a good man.

"Of course, Steve," she said. She squeezed his hand.

"Well, alright then." He took the broom and dustpan from her and started cleaning up the shattered mug. "Let's get this party started."