Chapter Thirty-Two (Jane POV)

"You ready to get out of here, Mr. Sweetface?"

That moniker is a misnomer at the moment because my dear son looks anything but sweet. Mr. Sourface would be much more appropriate. You would think Mateo would be far more excited about the prospect of spending the next three days in theme/waterpark fun but, instead, he is very subdued. Correction, he is more annoyed right now than subdued.

"I don't want Michael to take me to Legoland!" he whines petulantly, "I want Daddy to do it! I want my Daddy right now!"

"Well, it was Michael's idea that we go, so he's going to take us."

"I said no! No! No! No! NO!"

"Mateo, what did we talk about?" I remind him calmly, "Am I yelling at you?" He gives a mutinous shake of his head. "Then why are you yelling at me? We can't have a conversation if you're being this way."

"But I want to have a conversation!" he wails in his most plaintive voice, "Please don't stop talking to me, Mommy! I hate it! I hate it when you don't talk to me!"

"Then you know what you have to do."

We've been trying this method for the last several weeks. Whenever Mateo becomes temperamental and starts yelling, I calmly bring to his attention that I am not yelling and, therefore, I expect him to speak to me without yelling. If that isn't enough to snap him back to his senses then I tell him that the conversation is over and then I will not speak to him again until he is able to address me in a more rational manner. In the beginning, it had been a test to my resolve because the resulting silent treatment would only make him more frustrated. He would scream and cry and pitch a fit and sometimes even break things and I would simply walk away.

I would go to my room or I would go outside but I would cut myself off from him, even though it destroyed me because I knew it was hurting him, until he calmed down. Eventually, he would seek me out with apologies and pleas for me to not to be mad and I would always forgive him. But I would also stress to him what he had done wrong and how he could do better the next time. And then, depending on the results of his tantrum, I would make him clean up whatever mess had resulted in the interim and some privileges would be lost for a short while.

And gradually, gradually Mateo began to act out less and less. He is still struggling to accept the new relationship Michael and I have and he continues to feed off of his father's bitterness but, for the most part, I feel as though I'm making headway. Mateo is still far from being angelic. He'll never be a carbon copy of Ellie and Anna but, he's not so much the hellion he'd once been either. Improvement in baby steps. Like now.

Mateo takes a deep, even breath and apologizes to me without prompting. "I didn't mean to yell at you but I am upset," he relays to me solemnly.

It's difficult but I manage to keep from smiling at how grown up he sounds. "Why are you upset, baby?"

"I don't want to go to Legoland with Michael."

"But why not? Don't you think it will be fun?" He gives a resolute shake of his head. "Why, Mateo? Why don't you think it will be fun?"

"If I go to Legoland with you and Michael then we'll all be a family and Daddy will be left out," he explains with childish logic that is astonishingly sensible. "I don't want to have fun without him. It would hurt his feelings."

"Mateo, don't you think Daddy wants you to have fun?"

"Yes. But he doesn't want me to like Michael more than him," he argues.

"Is that what Daddy told you?"

"No. I just know it. Because he's always asking me if I like Michael and he seems happy when I tell him that I don't."

"So do you really not like Michael or are you trying to make your daddy happy?" He doesn't answer me but the way he averts his face makes me suspect that it's the latter that is bothering him. "Well, tell you what," I suggest lightly, "We'll just keep this trip between you and me for now."

"But isn't that lying?" he asks, intuitive as always.

"Not lying. I'm not required to tell your dad everything I do," I explain, "Does he tell me everything that he does?"

He thinks about that for a moment. "No."

"This is the same thing."

I can tell the reassurance doesn't go very far with him because when Michael arrives to pick us up, Mateo is still very lukewarm about the trip. He barely acknowledges Michael's excited whoop but instead drags himself towards the car, climbs inside and then slumps down low in his seat. Michael glances at me in concern as we walk to join him.

"You still think this is a good idea?" he frets with a measure of good humor, "He doesn't seem all that thrilled about going, babe. I don't want to have to resort to kidnapping."

"Don't say that!" I admonish with a playful whack to his shoulder, "We're not kidnapping him. We're encouraging him to experience something new."

"Yeah, uh-huh," Michael agrees indulgently, pulling me closer for his kiss, "Just as long as we're together, I don't care if it's a felony or not."

"Shut up. You are not funny," I tell him and then bely that statement by giggling into his mouth, "Come on. Let's get this show on the road."

We begin the trip by trying to draw Mateo into several classic long car ride games but he is clearly not feeling it. He sits in the back seat, pouting and staring blindly out the window. When he does speak, his answers are petulant and riddled with grievance. He's hungry but he doesn't like the snacks Michael has provided. He's hot but if we turn up the air conditioning then he's too cold. The seats are "too sticky." He likes his daddy's car better. On and on and on. Consequently, conversation primarily takes place between me and Michael. And, an hour into the trip, when it becomes clear that Mateo will no be coaxed out of his funk for anyone, we let him be and eventually he starts to grow tired.

"Is he out?" Michael asks when we pass a long stretch of free of complaints.

I twist a glance over my seat to find Mateo slumped against the car door, fast asleep. "Yep. He's out."

"My God, he's so stubborn. He definitely takes after you."

"Um, excuse me? No. I'm going to give Rafael credit on this one. That is all him."

"It's probably a combination of the two, which is unfortunate," Michael grumbles, "I feel like I'm never going to win him over."

"You will," I predict confidently, "He loves you, Michael. He just doesn't want to love you."

He favors me with a wry, sideways smile. "So you keep telling me."

"Well, it's true."

"I guess I miss when he and I used to be friends," he whispers.

"You'll get that back, baby. You just have to be pa…" I never finish the sentence because right then, unexpectedly, I feel a curious flutter in my lower abdomen. I could have easily missed it if I hadn't experienced a similar sensation before when I was pregnant with Mateo. "Oh my God…" I utter in stunned elation.

"What?" Michael prompts in alarm.

"I felt the baby move." And before he can begin to process that statement I grab his hand and press it against my belly. "There!" I cry when I feel the tickling sensation once again, "Right there! Can you feel it? The baby is moving!"

He shakes his head, his face alight with a curious mix of happiness, excitement and disappointment. "I don't feel anything, Jane."

"Really? You didn't?" I reposition his hand and press harder. "How about now?"

He shakes his head. "Nope. Whatever you're feeling, I got nada."

"I think maybe she's still too small," I mumble in mild frustration. Although, I've progressed enough in my pregnancy for it to be obvious to anyone who looks closely, at 16 weeks the baby isn't big enough and the movements aren't strong enough to be felt from the outside. "We'll have to wait until she gets bigger," I tell Michael.

He regards me with a curious smile. "She? Do you know something I don't know?"

We both agreed that we would find out the baby's sex in one of those trendy gender reveal parties to be scheduled after my 20 week ultrasound. And while Michael and I have speculated on which sex if more likely, my heart is most definitely set on having a little girl. I can already see her in my mind, a wide-eyed, chubby cheeked stunner with Michael's smile.

"It's nothing official," I say, "But every instinct inside of me says that we're having a girl."

His blue eyes become shimmery with emotion. "Really?"

I'm melting at his captivated response. "You'd want a little girl?"

"Well, we already have a little boy, don't we?"

"Yeah," I agree, bringing his hand to my mouth for a fervent kiss, "I guess we do."

Sometime after that, I fall asleep too with Michael's hand cradled against my abdomen. The next thing I know, Michael is nudging me awake with the announcement, "We're here." I yawn and stretch and slowly orientate myself to my surroundings. The hotel where we will be staying predictably looks like a building constructed from actual Legos. When Mateo catches sight of it, he goes wild with excitement. I guess that was all that was needed to snap him out of his mood.

"That's where we're staying?" he exclaims, hopping for the car with an expression of burgeoning awe, "It looks like a giant Lego! This is amazing! Come on, let's go inside! I want to go inside!"

We're staying in a pirate themed suite complete with a king-sized bed, mini fridge, microwave, coffee maker and a pull out sofa. We even have a spectacular view of the water and park beyond. The furniture inside is elegant, despite the gaudy theme, and not at all made of Legos as I was expecting. It could actually be a regular hotel suite were it not for the theme. Our room is immaculate, adored beautifully in shades of red, gold and brown. I might have stood there a little longer admiring it if I didn't have to pee so badly. I quickly excuse myself and make a beeline for the bathroom.

When I emerge a short time later, the pressure in my bladder at last relieved, I find Michael and Mateo sitting together on the love seat sized sofa, both of their expressions solemn. I immediately draw the worst conclusion. The instinct to run back into the bathroom is strong but I suppress it. Instead, I do the adult thing and tackle the issue head on.

"You two didn't have another fight, did you?" I lament softly, "We haven't even been here five minutes."

"We weren't fighting actually," Michael tells me, "Mateo just asked me a question but I think it's best that you answer him."

Alarm prickles at the back of my neck. "What question?"

Mateo cuts directly to the chase. "Mommy, are you going to have a baby?"

I immediately glance over at Michael, my eyes full of implicit question. "I didn't tell him," Michael assures me, "He heard us talking in the car and he asked."

"Well, are you?" Mateo insists.

I sit down in the chair adjacent to them and answer him honestly. "Yes, Mateo. I'm going to have a baby." I beckon him forward. "Come here and I'll let you feel." He inches closer and, when he's within arm's length, I take hold of his hand and lay it against my rounded belly much the way I did with Michael earlier. "See?" I breathe out shakily.

He stares at me in wide-eyed amazement. "You have a baby in there?"

"I sure do."

"How did you get a baby in your tummy?"

"Well, you remember the story Daddy and I told you about how you were conceived?" He nods in rapt fascination. "It was kind of like that but with me and Michael instead."

He squints at me, clearly puzzling out the explanation in his mind. "Did Auntie Luisa put Michael's swimmers into you while you were sleeping?"

I ignore Michael's dramatic choking and hacking in the background while I attempt to clarify to Mateo. "No. Aunt Luisa didn't put Michael's swimmers into me. Michael put them there and I wanted him to because that's what people do sometimes when they love each other." More coughing and gagging from Michael who is clearly unprepared for this frank discussion. To be fair, it did sort of come from out of nowhere but this is something he'll have to get used to because kids are always asking questions and most of them aren't so easy to answer. For the time being, I pretend not to notice his histrionics even when Mateo innocently asks whether we should get Michael water.

"So that's how Michael and I made a baby," I finish after a truthful but brief explanation on how babies are traditionally conceived.

Mateo blinks at me. "Oh. So this baby with Michael wasn't an accident?"

Michael and I exchange a brief but tender glance before I answer his question. "Well, we weren't planning it right away," I explain, "But Michael and I have always wanted to have a baby together so, even though the baby was a surprise, it was kind of on purpose too."

I can plainly the see that the wheels in his head are turning furiously but he betrays none of those thoughts in his next reply to me. "Oh. Okay. I understand." The response is frustrating because I know he has the tendency towards stubborn recalcitrance like his father. Sometimes, it simply has to be coaxed out of him. I suppose now is one of those times.

"What are you thinking right now, Mateo?"

He shakes his head and averts his eyes. "Nothing."

When he doesn't say anything further, I gently prompt him because I can tell that it is most certainly not "nothing" going on with him. "Are you sure? Is there anything else you want to ask me?"

"No. Can we go to the park now?"

His dizzying segue leaves me frowning. "You seriously don't have any questions for me?"

"Nope," he says and over his shoulder I see Michael give me a "how the hell should I know?" look when I glance over at him for assistance. Mateo grabs hold of my hand and starts tugging me to my feet. "Come on! Come on! I want to go on the rides!"

He has a blast, riding every attraction that meets his height requirements. There are a few points during the day where there are frustrated tears and mini tantrums because he's too short for a particular ride but, for the most part, Mateo spends his entire day smiling and that helps me to keep from worrying over his lack of enthusiasm concerning my pregnancy. Watching him have fun helps me not to obsess too much over what his indifference could possibly mean.

This entire time I've been imagining how he would react when I told him. I had prepared myself for excitement and anger but I had never considered he might be apathetic. The truth is, I really don't know how Mateo feels about having another sibling. He's never asked about it. In fact, he's always seemed rather satisfied with having Anna and Ellie as his sisters. Maybe he doesn't want another sibling. Maybe he will resent the baby for taking my attention away from him.

Okay, okay so maybe Mateo having a good time isn't enough to distract me from my worst fears. But whenever I start to spiral out of control and become consumed, Michael gives my hand a reassuring squeeze and that reminds me of one fundamental truth. No matter what the worst case scenario is, he and I still have each other. And that is enough to calm my fears…for now.

We decide to cap off our first evening at the Legoland theme park with a ride on the Ferris Wheel. By now, it's dark and the ride is illuminated brightly in the darkness like an ethereal ring of light. We climb into the bucket cart together with Michael on one side and Mateo and me on the other. I can't help but think of the previous times Michael and I have ridden this type of amusement ride together and how much I loved him then…and how much I love him right now.

Our car is approaching the top and Michael and I are trading tender, secretive smiles when Mateo suddenly asks, "Mommy, do you love your new baby more than me?"

The question takes me by surprise because I was sure he had zero interest in his sibling to be. "Mateo, where would you get an idea like that?"

"You love Michael more than you love Daddy," he reasons, "I know you said 'different' but I know you really mean more." Helpless in the face of his candor, I throw a desperate glance over at Michael in a silent plea for assistance but one look at his face tells me he has nothing to offer. "I just thought that maybe when you have your new baby then you won't need me anymore."

"I'm always going to need you. No one can replace you, Mateo," I tell him, "You're my firstborn and so, so special to me. Everything I learned about being a mommy, you taught me. Besides, I'm going to need your help when the baby comes. You're going to be a big brother after all and that's a lot of responsibility."

"I'm already a big brother to Anna and Ellie," he tells me, "But they live with Auntie Petra and I don't have to do anything for them."

"Right. But there's not much age difference between you and the twins. You will almost be seven years older than this baby."

"Wow. So I'll be a super big brother then," he concludes, looking awed by the prospect.

"Yes," I agree with a laugh, "The superest."

"Most super," Mateo corrects me patiently, "Superest isn't a word, Mommy."

I'm caught somewhere between laughing astonishment and pride at his matter-of-fact correction. "Oh…okay."

"Does that mean that when the new baby comes that I have to go live with Daddy so he won't be alone?"

"No!" I reply vehemently, "You don't have to go live with Daddy unless you want to, Mateo." The next words I say are the hardest that I've ever had to voice but I do so despite the pain they cause because I owe him the opportunity to speak his most honest thoughts. "Do you want to go live with him?"

"I don't want him to be alone," he answers honestly and I brace myself mentally and emotionally for the rest of what he's going to say. To my relief, however, Mateo shakes his head. "But I don't want to live with him. I want to stay with you."

And though I might be pushing my luck, I press him further. "And Michael too? Because living with me means living with him too, Mateo."

Mateo glances over at Michael then, as if he's weighing that decision and, at that point, Michael speaks. "Listen, buddy," he begins gently, "I know that this has been a hard transition for you. It's been rough. Everything is changing really fast and sometimes that can be scary."

"Yup," Mateo agrees with a nod.

"But change doesn't have to be a bad thing," Michael continues, "You were a change for me. Your mom and I were going to get married and then, suddenly, she was pregnant with you and that scared me so much that I didn't know what to do. But you know what?"

"What?"

"You ended up being one of the best things that has ever happened to me, Mateo. You were the greatest change of my life and I hope that one day you can feel the same about me."

And for the first time in more than two months, Mateo's façade of distant reserve cracks completely. He stares at Michael with his heart in his eyes and I almost burst into tears when I see it happen. "Really?" he asks Michael.

"Really. I love you and your mom and this new baby so much. You're my family and I don't want to be with anyone else but you."

Michael's not prepared and I'm not prepared for the moment when Mateo pitches himself across the cart and throws his arms around Michael in an enthusiastic hug brimming with emotion. The sudden gesture stuns us both into silence. I'm so happy to see it that I can forgive the violent rocking Mateo caused with his abrupt movement. It's worth it to see the expression of pure gratitude and relief on Michael's face. He smiles at me, his eyes glistening with happy tears.

"I think this was a good first vacation day," he says thickly, "Don't you think so too, Jane?"

"Yep," I agree, my own tears welling, "Best first vacation day ever!"

By the time we finally leave the park, Mateo is limp with exhaustion so Michael decides to carry him and Mateo falls asleep in his arms. I don't think it's possible for my heart to feel more full than it does as I watch Michael keep Mateo cradled against him as we walk back to the car. After arriving at the hotel twenty minutes later, Michael and I make a mutual decision to forgo Mateo's bath for the night.

Instead, we tag team to get him ready for bed. While I coax a sleepy and grumpy Mateo into his pajamas, Michael readies the fold out bed for him to sleep. There's enough room in the king-sized bed for him to sleep with us but neither of us are too keen on that idea. He's a cutie but I don't want to share a bed with him. Once we have him all tucked in and settled, we stand together arm in arm like the proud parents we are and watch him sleep.

"Just two more days…" Michael sighs wistfully.

I give him a playful poke to his midsection with my elbow. "What are you saying? I thought you were having a good time."

"I am. But he's got way more energy than I expected. He dragged us all over that park today and we weren't even there six hours. What happens tomorrow when we have a full day? I'm so tired I can't even blink. And if I have to carry him again…whoa! He's heavier than he looks, babe."

"Oh, I know."

"Tomorrow is going to break me."

"Nope, none of that talk. You'd better find some energy and prepare yourself for a wild ride tomorrow, Detective Cordero, because it is on."

He turns me in his arms to nibble several playful kisses across my jaw. He nuzzles against my ear, nipping lightly at my earlobe. I have to suppress of responding shudder of desire when he traces the outer shell of my ear with his tongue. "Speaking of wild rides…" he teases seductively, "…maybe you could give me one right now."

Determined to resist his advances, I shrug out of Michael's grasp with a sharp crack of laughter. "Not on your life! Mateo is sleeping right there."

"We used to do it with him sleeping in the same room all the time."

"He was too young to know what was happening!"

"Are you sure about that?"

"Michael! I am not having sex with you with my six year less than twenty feet away! It's not happening!"

"Okay, okay. It was worth a shot."

I start to smack him in the face with one of the sofa pillows when my cell phone suddenly begins to buzz in my pocket. Michael mouths to me that he's going to take a shower just as I pull it free to answer. I suppress an inward groan when I read the caller i.d. screen. It's Rafael. I mentally prepare myself for the dramatics that are about to unfold and then, after inhaling deeply, I answer the call.

"Hey, Raf. What's up?"

"Where the hell are you right now?"

"What do you mean?" My serene response belies my inward quaking right then.

"I just came from your grandmother's! I stopped by to tell Mateo goodnight on my way home from work and she said that you and Michael went out of town."

Yet again, I hesitate to answer but force myself to dive into my reply despite the dread gathering in my belly. "Um...yeah, we did. We'll be back in two days."

"What?" he explodes so loudly that I have to pull the phone away from my ear, "You took him out of town after I specifically told you that I wasn't comfortable with it?"

"He had a great time today, Raf. Michael and I took lots of pictures at the park. I'll text them to you."

"I want to talk to my son," he declares belligerently, "Put him on the phone right now!"

"He's asleep, Raf, and he's fine. He really had fun. I haven't seen him smile this much in months." Not since we told him that we wouldn't be together, I add silently. But there's no need for me to say the words aloud because Rafael has already drawn that conclusion.

"Yeah, well…whose fault is that?" Rafael grumbles angrily, "I'm not the one who broke his heart in the first place!"

"I know and I take full responsibility for how sullen he's been lately," I acknowledge in an even tone, "So, can you understand why it would be important to me, to Michael to make it up to him?" He doesn't answer that question and I don't expect him to either. In fact, I'm sure that even contemplating the idea only infuriates him more. I doubt I can make the situation any worse than it already is so I simply decide to go for broke and tell him everything. "Michael and I told Mateo about the baby today."

"What? You did that without me?"

"With all due respect, it wasn't something I planned to include you in on in the first place," I tell him more tartly than I intend, "Look, I don't want to fight. I hate fighting with you, Rafael. I hate that we have this tension between us. Can't we just…go back?"

"To when?" he snaps, "Before or after I fell in love with you again?"

"Rafael, please."

"How are we not supposed to fight when you completely disregard my feelings this way?"

"What about my feelings?" I retort, "Is it really such a hardship for you that Michael and Mateo get along? They're going to be in each other's lives. It makes sense. You even said so!"

"Don't you get it? It feels like everything that matters to me is slipping away," Rafael says, "I'm trying to hold on to what I have left! I've already lost you to him. I don't want to lose my son too."

"That won't happen. I won't let it happen."

"That's the same thing you said about us and look where we are," he replies stonily, "I want you to bring Mateo back home and I want you to bring him now, Jane!"

"Like I said before, we'll be back in two days," I reiterate softly, "We'll see you then."

I end the call before he can go off but that doesn't keep him from calling right back. I stare down at the screen, torn between answering and ignoring the call outright. Part of me is just so angry with him that I don't want to talk at all but part of me also misses our friendship so much. I miss the ease and the trust and the genuine affection that used to exist between us. I miss when we used to be a family.

But for Rafael, we can't have that again if Michael is part of the equation. So, I can't fathom how we'll ever come to any sort of agreement. We'll never find our balance again because Rafael can't accept Michael and I can't accept his non-acceptance. After endless vacillating and several phone calls, I finally choose the ignore option and toss my phone onto the bed.

"Was that Rafael?" I glance up to find Michael standing in the doorframe of the bathroom, his lower half wrapped in nothing but a towel. His body is still wet from the shower, beads of water still clinging to his face and shoulders and chest. I answer his question with a jerky nod. "Was he upset?"

"Yeah, he was," I answer, "But I don't want to talk about it."

Right then, looking at him, so sweet and concerned, his body exposed and practically begging to be touched, I make a concerted effort to put Rafael out of my mind. I move forward to take Michael's face in my hands and seal my lips to his in a passionate kiss. He's slow to respond at first but eventually parts his lips for the sweet invasion of my tongue.

"I thought you said you didn't want to have sex with Mateo in the room," he whispers in between kisses as I remove his towel and walk him back into the privacy of the bathroom.

"I changed my mind." I punctuate that statement by shutting the door behind me and locking it. The resounding click echoes the silence. We come together for another round of frantic kisses, parting only long enough for me to quickly shed my own clothes. But when I try to draw him back against me for more, he gently grasps hold of my shoulders to stave me off. "Jane, wait."

I glare at him in frustration and thwarted desire. "What?"

"You're upset."

"Because you're putting me off right now."

"Because you had a fight with Rafael," he counters softly, "I won't let you use sex with me as a distraction. So, let's talk about it."

Despite my best efforts not to let our fight get to me, my lip starts to quiver as the tears come. "It's just so hard, Michael. He was my best friend," I weep brokenly, "I never would have made it through your death without him and Petra and now…"

"…Now you're at odds with each other because of me."

"I'm not blaming you. It's not your fault," I tell him vehemently, "Rafael is the one who is being irrational. He's acting like you stole his life from him and that's not even remotely true!"

Michael flips down the toilet seat, sits down and then pulls me into his lap. "You can understand how he might feel that way though, right?" I refuse to answer that question, partly because I know where Michael is going with his argument. "I've been in his shoes, Jane," he whispers, "I know how it feels to have everything you thought was yours ripped away from you. I know how the pain turns you into someone you don't even recognize, someone you despise.

"I don't think that Rafael wants to fight with you anymore than you want to fight with him," Michael continues, "But, right now, he's like a wounded animal and he's lashing out. You can't take what he says and does personally because it's not Rafael saying and doing those things. It's the hurt."

I drop a light kiss to the tip of his nose. "How did you get so smart about people?"

"I'm not smart. I just know how it feels to lose you, Jane. It sucks."

"You don't think I should give up on him?"

"No. You shouldn't give up."

I kiss him again and it's then that it dawns on me that we're both naked and have been naked the entire time we've been having our little heart to heart. When I mention it to him, he laughs. "You were crying. It seemed like an awkward time to put on my pants."

Giggling in response, I scoot around on his lap and reposition my legs so that I'm straddling him. "Well, since you've got them off, we might as well make the most of it…"