A few hours later, Joyce and David both strode into the hospital room where Max, Chloe and Rachel would be spending the next couple of nights. Joyce was now walking on her own, thanks to a lightweight mechanical exoskeleton that read the neural impulses from above the damaged section of her spine and translated them into movements by the robotic frame. Though the technology had been available for years, her insurance refused to cover it until last year. Once she'd gotten trained with it, she was constantly making joking references about going back to work at the diner.
After the appropriate hugs and kisses were exchanged, Joyce got straight to the point: "So, let me see my grandbaby." Chloe slowly, gingerly held out her arms, going pale as Joyce picked Rachel up, confidently supporting the tiny child's head and back. Her mother couldn't help but laugh.
"Oh Chloe, I was the exact same way when you were born; absolutely convinced I was gonna break you. That lasted about a week. Once you've got the knack for holding an infant, you never lose it." Joyce then started to coo and nuzzle at her granddaughter, "Who's my pretty girl? Who's that? It's you! Yes it is!" Rachel blinked her eyes and gave yet another yawn, before staring intently ahead.
Chloe gently clapped her stepfather on the back, smirking affectionately, "Look like you're about to make with the waterworks, Big D." David jokingly glared at her, before shaking his head, smiling almost painfully wide, "Just - just never thought I'd ever get a chance to be a grandfather. Really means the world to me, as well as your mother. Thank you both...so much."
With that, he walked over, hugging Chloe hard, before following suit with Max.
"Ooof! Think I'm really - really glad that I'm not feeling much through the morphine right now." Max murmured, smiling all the while.
"So, when do you get to go home, Max?" Joyce inquired.
"A couple days at most. They just want to make sure I'm okay. But I'm really looking forward to being back in my own bed...having the whole family in our own house." She said, beaming a smile at both Chloe and Rachel as she spoke.
Rolling her eyes in a good-natured fashion, Joyce muttered, "Don't be so quick to rush out of the hospital. Believe me. You have it good right now; you can ring the bell, and get a nurse to rush in and help you with the baby any time day or night. The hard work starts the moment you leave. You think you girls have seen dark days before? Hmmmm...just you wait."
Chloe gave almost the exact eye-roll in return and said, "Oh Jesus Mom, you make it sound like the end of the world or something."
And believe me, as someone who's actually kinda seen the end of the world, I know what I'm talking about!
Max reluctantly chimed in, "And Victoria did it solo. I mean, she seemed to get through okay..." Chloe noticed her trail off, giving a meaningful look in her direction. No doubt they started to recall the same memories. The days after Miranda was born, when Victoria barely held herself together; the times that she succumbed to emotional freakouts, or that one time she spent a good five minutes sobbing in the corner of their living room during a stressful visit.
Okay, but look at Victoria now! She is like UberMama, totally together and in charge of that two year old toddler of hers.
Joyce could see what was going on in their heads, smirked, and teasingly stated, "There's a reason you're an only child, Chloe." She winked at Max and added, "Don't think you weren't a little terror either, Max, or so your parents used to tell me."
A-a-lright Chloe. No worries. Don't panic. You were mayor of an entire city for almost two decades. You can handle one little baby. So what if you're pushing forty? And uh...ummmm...
She turned, and with a pleading look in her eyes unsuccessfully hidden with a bad attempt at a casual smile, said to her mother, "You know what might be awesome...Grandma? You and David moving in with us. You know, just for a few yea-uh-months. Show us the ropes, how it's done. Might bring us closer together as a family." She paused, smile widening. "No, definitely bring us closer together."
Joyce gently bounced Rachel in her arms, and blinked. Blinked again, and turned to David. They held that gaze between them for a few seconds, before simultaneously dissolving into hysterical laughter. This went on until Rachel started to fuss, prompting an immediate halt from Joyce, who cooed at and tickled her.
"Oh, ohhh...did Grandma wake you up? Soooo sorry. Soooo sorry, yes. Chloe just said the funniest thing, yes she did!" With that Joyce handed Rachel over to Max, who nestled the little baby against her chest.
Chloe groaned, covering her face up with her hands, simultaneously furious and trying to keep from laughing herself, because it was funny. Kinda. Sorta? She was comforted when David and Joyce together enfolded her in a hug, her mother murmuring, "Chloe, I will love you forever, and I'm sure I'll be a frequent hanger-on in your home, but this is something you and Max need to face together. Humans have been powering through childrearing forever; you'll do just fine. Better than most."
Chloe didn't know what else to say, so she simply stood there, hugging back and waiting for the inevitable to begin.
If parenthood was a videogame, at least the hospital would be a pleasant tutorial level. The real game would start soon enough.
September 2033
"Baby...?"
Chloe drooled intently on her pillow, doing her best to accidentally-on-purpose pretend that she couldn't hear Max...or the sounds of Rachel's cries.
"Sweetie?" the voice called out, more insistent this time.
It wasn't until Max began to shake her, calling her out by name that she knew the jig was up. Blearily, she glanced up at the clock, the ghostly, semi-holographic numbers suspended in a razor-thin plastic sheeting burning a brilliant blue, taunting her with the lateness of the hour.
Three AM. Still? Fuck...I just...fell...asleep!
To say that the last three months were hell would be an obvious exaggeration, but Chloe quickly surmised that Purgatory was made up of hungry, crying, poopy babies in the middle of the night. And on nights like this, her mother's voice constantly rang through her mind.
"Just wait until she's crawling and walking. Then the fun really begins"
With a low, sickly moan, Chloe did her best to emerge from the warm, inviting bliss of the bed, and clamber onto her feet. Apparently, the message didn't make it to her legs, and she found herself misremembering how the whole concept of gravity worked, falling out of the covers and hitting the floor face first.
"Chloe!"
Snorting, she muttered, "Hmmm...huh? Wha?"
"Are you okay? Did - wait. Did you land on the floor and then fall back asleep? I've been trying to get your attention for a whole minute!"
Pulling herself painfully back up, Chloe answered blearily, "Wha-? No. Of course nachos. Dingo getchum. Be...right...bacontacos."
Stumbling almost drunkenly through the hallway to the nursery, Chloe struggled to pull her various mental bits and pieces together. She had to admit, after a few months, there were improvements. In those early days, it was absolute pathetic to witness her trying to carry Rachel around or change her diapers. So worried was she about accidentally hurting the newborn that she treated her daughter as if she were made out of fragile crystal.
Those days were long gone; certainly, infants needed special care and caution, but Chloe was now a complete and utter pro at changing Rachel without having to expend any conscious thought on the effort. Still, she did curse, for the eight hundredth time, the added care and difficulty involved in cleaning up girls versus boys.
With Rachel still crying, Chloe scooped her carefully up, the initial sleepiness instinctively burning off as she carried her into the master bedroom. "Hungry, huh? Can't say I blame you. Good gig you got here, Rache. Let me know if there's another opening."
Handing the baby over to Max so she could nurse, Chloe laid out on the bed, struggling to stay awake. Her wife was still convinced that if they both fell asleep while their daughter was still in the bed with them, it would be the worst thing in the world, ever. Chloe wasn't so sure, but she knew better than to try and argue, especially on this.
All she knew at the moment was that she ached all over, her body throbbing physically from the lack of sleep.
Ohhh...oooh Tornado. My misunderstood friend, Tornado. If you feel like cashing in that twenty year debt I've accumulated, go for it. Just leave Max and Rache safe, and we'll settle up, yeah? Just you and me.
Chloe didn't really mean that though.
Well...mostly.
March 2034
Chloe was in a good mood. Her birthday was next week, for one thing; while the passage from her twenties to her thirties were met with kicking and screaming, moaning and self-pity, forty actually seemed kind of cool. Old enough now to inescapably be recognized as an adult, but still young enough for people to say, "Hey look. It's Chloe. She's cool for an adult, especially because she's not fifty."
There was also the fact that she was enjoying the positively jubilant aura that Max currently radiated at the breakfast table.
"Say it, Rache. C'mon baby, say it for me. Say 'mama'? Say 'mama'?"
Heh. You've totally lost your mind, Max, but damn if you don't look adorable at the same time.
"Ma...ma!" Rachel burbled. It wasn't the first time she'd said it; that joyous moment was half an hour ago, but Max was completely grooving on repeat performances.
"Yaaaay! You did it! You did it! Awww baby, you made Mama so happy!" Max cried out, leaning in and nuzzling their daughter with her nose, until the little girl shrieked with delight.
Chloe had to admit that this was an absolutely awesome moment in her life; as cool as she still played it, she was absolutely abuzz with bliss. Motherhood suited Max; in all the years they were together, Chloe couldn't recall ever seeing her wife so content or fulfilled as she was this morning, with Rachel speaking her first words at last.
She glanced over at the pair of them, pretending to be reading the news on her tablet, and felt her throat tighten up.
Damn, you know, I wasn't totally sold at first on this whole breeding thing; I didn't want to admit it to myself, but maybe in the beginning it was more about making Max happy than anything else. But right now, right this moment? I can't believe I wasted all this time just working on my career. Shoulda quit years ago! Look at our little family. We hella rock together!
It was a vaguely foolish notion of course; it was only recently that they were financially secure enough to allow the both of them to take time off to focus on those critical first months in Rachel's life. Max would have to return to her teaching duties soon, and her commissions were piling up. Chloe was bringing in some income with long-distance consulting and article writing. The ironic bit was that while they may have lost some years with the wait, by building up their fortunes, the quality of those remaining years would be all the better for it.
Laughing low to herself, Chloe turned back to her display, letting Max continue to gobble up the moment. Which is why she missed it initially when Rachel suddenly reached out with questing arms, and asked, "Dada?"
Chloe blinked, putting her tablet down on the table. "Wait, what?" She stared incredulously at Rachel, who repeated, in an almost sing-song tone. "Daa-daaaa."
Max gave a giggle, and rolled her eyes. "No, sweetie." She pointed towards Chloe. "Meema. Mommy." Max pointed to herself. "And Meema." Pointing back again.
Chloe didn't have the heart to tell her that she wasn't in love with the idea of her being called 'Meema', as much as Max seemed attached to the notion. It struck her as inauthentic and overly-cutesy. Forced, as opposed to a natural development. She had jokingly referred to herself as "Daddy" once or twice over the past few weeks, when she was playing with Rachel, or changing her. Just when it was the two of them alone. She didn't mean to sink Max's idea directly; "Daddy" was just her playful bit of rebellion.
But...but maybe...
"Can you say 'Meema'? Me-"
"Hey, uh. Wait a second. How come I can't be Daddy?" Chloe interrupted.
Max was wholly unprepared for the question.
"Uhhh..." she drawled, clearly not sure how to answer. Blinked, and then finally said, "Well sweetie, I know you're only about to turn forty, but maybe you didn't notice you don't exactly have Daddy parts." She winked and continued, "And uh..heh...I don't know, Che. I just don't want to confuse her. Daddy has a certain meaning and..."
Straightening up, and going straight into "Mayor Mode", Chloe pitched her case with aplomb, "Now hold on here. Confuse her how? Is it any more confusing that most families have a male and a female as parents, but not ours, not all families? Is it any more confusing that two men or two women can get married, not just a man and a woman? Once you take out all the issues of biological sex and weird gender construction, what's a Father, really? While it often traditionally refers to a male role, as a verb it also simply means to beget. By my reckoning, a Daddy, a Father, is the genetically contributing parent that doesn't carry the fetus to gestation. And you know damn..." She winced, catching herself. That was a dollar for the swear jar. "...dang well that definition applies to me. She's related to me as much as she is to you. So..." Chloe crossed her arms, and smiled. "Let her call me whatever she wants. And if she wants to call me Daddy, then that's what I want, too. We're the last people in the world who should be defending the ramparts of traditional heteronormative gender construction."
Max stared at her, dumbstruck, her jaw falling open. Tilted her head quizzically, before brightening with a smile. "Wowser. Okay, first, I forget how absolutely awesome you've gotten at the whole political schtick, Mrs. Uses-Big-Words-When-She-Needs-To. Second uh..." she blushed, and laughed at herself. "I'm sorry baby, I didn't realize it meant that much to you. I honestly didn't. And...and I can't believe I totally started channeling like, ancient nineteen-seventies Mom. Because you are right, you are so right..."
Chloe leaned in close, tilting her head and planting a kiss on Rachel's cheek. "Well, I guess I didn't realize it meant that much to me, either. It was a spur of the moment thing but, I mean, clearly it's not just some weird whimsey. It feels right, you know? Like something meant to be. If it takes, it takes, and if it doesn't, it'll work itself out anyhow. "
"Mamadada!" Rachel giggled.
Max took a long, appraising look at her, pride obviously shining in her eyes. "Well. Alright then. Daddy."
Chloe leaned in and kissed Max sweetly on the mouth. "Mommy."
They held hands, smiling like loons, until Chloe chose to break the moment by saying, "You realize I'm totally making you call me Daddy whenever we're alone in the bedroom now, right?"
Max reflexively covered up Rachel's ears with her hands. "Oh God, Che! Not in front of the baby!" she admonished, with a look of both disapproving shock and embarrassed good cheer.
"Oh she's too young for us to leave any permanent mental scarring." Chloe joked. "Isn't that right, Rache?"
"Dada." she answered, as if that was all that was required.
A/N: So originally this was going to be one looong (as in, covering twenty five years at least) chapter of moments in Rachel, Max, and Chloe's life together. Then I realized that this sort of thing might work better if I released it in short little chapters like this. It keeps me motivated to write, even though I have it all sketched out in notes. And frankly, it's probably easier for you all to digest than something that's 12K to 15K. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy fluff, because there's more of it to come.
Happy 2016 everyone!