XVII:
She thought that maybe Rollins had arrived early; it wasn't out of character for her fellow detective to just show up when the mood suited her, and she was hoping that Amanda was going to bring over some of her mac and cheese for lunch (despite Rafael's insistence that he was on food duty and she didn't really need to bring anything). Unfortunately, when she got to the buzzer, she was greeted with Lucia's clipped, "Olivia, it's cold. Let me up, por favor."
She did as she was ordered, then braced herself; Rafael wasn't back yet, so she texted him a quick, Your mother's here, then opened the front door to greet her when she got off the elevator. "Hello, Lucia," Olivia greeted. "Merry Christmas. You're early – Rafael had to go out, but he'll be back soon."
Lucia's face registered confusion and frustration as she fell into step behind Liv and followed her into the apartment. "Where has he gotten off to on Christmas morning of all times?" she groused.
"Johanna came over without Rita's permission and there was a little drama," Liv said evenly, "so he took her home. He should be on his way back now. It's nothing big: just teenager being defiant."
Lucia sighed heavily, then shook her head. "I don't know why that woman ever had a child – all she does is neglect her and expect Rafi to make her behave," she muttered under her breath. "I brought food," she announced louder. "God knows neither of you were going to cook."
Liv stared at her. "Rafa was going to cook –"
"Ha! He fully intended on me bringing food and heating it up and claiming he did the cooking is what my Rafi thought he was going to get away with," Lucia scoffed, holding up several canvas bags.
"No, I mean he has the ingredients in the kitchen and we were going to cook together," Liv said, her pride somewhat wounded. She knew he had already worked on several things that were in the fridge and ready to be reheated and the rest was supposed to be made together. "But I suppose that's out the window now," she added very quietly.
The front door opened and Rafael called, "Ma, you're early." The warning tone in his voice clearly spelled out I hope you aren't giving Liv shit.
"Your mom brought lunch," Liv said as he pulled up into the kitchen, shedding his coat and cold weather gear, offering her a kiss and an affectionate smile. He threw his stuff over one of the chairs in an uncharacteristically ruffled gesture and stared at her blankly. "I told her you were cooking but –"
"Mami, I already told you I had the food handled," Rafael said sharply, when he found his voice. "Did you think I was joking?"
"No, I thought that I was going to get a call this morning saying that I needed to bring food because something had happened and you –"
His fingers went white as they flexed into the chair. "I am not completely incapable of taking care of myself," he said as calmly as he could manage, "or of handling things." He grabbed his things and marched into the other room.
"Well, what was I supposed to think with him calling me for help for a couple of months and then –"
Liv licked her lips and murmured, "I had surgery and he was working and trying to take care of me. He needed a little help managing then. But this is different."
Lucia finished putting her containers into the already packed fridge and sighed. "Kind of like how he just moved from a very nice apartment into this… small one."
"It's not that small," Liv countered defensively. "It's two bedrooms."
Lucia raised a brow. "What do you use the second bedroom for?" she inquired.
"Office space slash storage slash guest room," Rafael grunted as he came back into the room. "Stop being nosy, mother. We share a bed."
"Forgive me for being skeptical –"
"I do not," he said. His tone was unreadable; it was angry, bitter, disappointed, and yet resigned. "I told you what my relationship is with Olivia but you refuse to believe that I can be back to women again. Only it's one woman: Olivia. I've had my run of empty relationships and things that end badly, mami. This is different."
"Lo creeré cuando lo vea." Lucia had busied herself at the counter, looking through the meager cupboards to find silverware and plates.
"She speaks Spanish," Rafael pointed out.
"It's fine," Liv interjected.
"It isn't," he said. "This is our home, Olivia, and –"
"Look, I don't usually do anything for Christmas but work," she said softly. "I don't… I don't have anyone or anywhere to go, really. So I work the late shift Christmas Eve and a midday Christmas day and don't worry about it. This is new for me. So I guess as long as there's food, I don't really care?" Even having the little fake Christmas tree up in the corner with its blinking lights and the gifts beneath it was a foreign concept. She had stared at him like he'd grown a second head when he'd put it up on her little end table a few days ago, scolding her for being a Scrooge.
There was a knock on the door; Amanda had let herself up, no need to buzz because she had the code. Liv escaped the uncomfortable stand-off in the kitchen to go let her co-worker in. "Hey," she greeted the blonde gratefully. "You brought food."
"It's just mac and cheese," Rollins dismissed.
"No just anything," Liv said with a sigh. "Rafael's mother is here and she brought a full meal."
"I thought Barba was going to cook –"
"So did we," Liv said. "But she assumed that meant she should bring everything because he would flake out and call her at the last second because something went wrong."
"What?" Amanda said. "Your boy is too responsible for that."
"Try telling that to his mother," she sighed, rubbing her temples. "They're having a war in the kitchen at the moment and I'm not sure I want to step into the middle of it to get something to eat."
"You hungry?"
Liv internally debated how much to tell her, then settled for, "I smell the macaroni and cheese and I got a whiff of Lucia's ropa vieja before she got it into the fridge and I swear to god, if I don't get a heaping spoonful of both and a squirt of hot sauce, someone is going to die."
Amanda stared at her. "Does he know you're pregnant? Because if he doesn't, you'd better tell him soon."
"How the hell did –"
"Liv, I watched you put hot sauce on one of the pain au chocolates Fin brought in from Farinella's yesterday," Rollins said with a dour look. "Have you told Barba –"
"Yes," Liv said softly.
"And?"
"And we're getting married and having a baby and fighting about a fridge full of food on Christmas," Liv said, waving her arm in the air as she sat down on the couch. "And his mother is here, Amanda. She's here and I have no one left. My brother is god knows where – and I don't know where my niece and nephew are. My friends who I used to call my family are scattered to the four winds. I don't know. What happens when Rafael has enough of me and decides to leave, too? What then? When he decides I'm too much and not enough at the same time? When I fail to protect and serve our family because I'm too busy protecting and serving the City of New York?"
"Liv," Amanda began as Rafael and Lucia came into the room, obviously drawn in by Olivia's raised voice.
"No, I can't – I can't do this," Liv said, getting up and brushing past Rafael despite his protest.
She heard Rollins attempting to explain, "She's hungry and upset but she's trying to hold it together and not make things worse," but she went down the short corridor and slammed into the bedroom.
Determined to shut out the world, she sat in the bottom of the closet, surrounded by her dresses and clothes and his suits, their shoes, the scent of cedar from the moth repellent strong in the air, everything that should be comforting to her and representative of their security in their life together, yet it all felt so fragile and transient.
The bedroom door opened and Rafael said softly, "Can I come in?"
"Yeah," she said softly.
"I brought food," he added. "Amanda told me what you wanted."
She didn't move from where she was; it seemed like too much effort to get up and join him on the bed. After waiting in silence for a minute or so, he came down and joined her on the closet floor. "Why does your mother hate me so much?" Liv asked quietly, accepting the plate of food and taking a few bites.
"She doesn't hate you," he replied with a sigh. "She just doesn't trust you. Or me. She doesn't trust me to know my own mind, and I don't blame her. I never did before: why would I now?"
"Rafa –"
"No, Liv, I understand where she's coming from," he muttered. "I'm not a prime catch to begin with. But then I ruined that by being in a polyamorous long-term dragged-out complicated thing of a relationship, and the thing with Rita – thank god she only knows about the affair, not Jo-jo – and then the string of lousy short-term homosexual relationships. She thinks you need to be insane or at least raising the red danger flag. I don't know how to make her understand that – finally – something in my life is right."
She leaned against him and sighed. "Okay," Liv murmured. "I… I guess it's you and me against the world."
"You and me and –" His hand moved to hover over her abdomen. She moved so he could rest his hand on her belly and he smiled.
"Blob," she supplied.
"Blob?"
"Yeah, baby just kind of looks like a whole lot of nothing right now," she said with a shrug. "They said most people call the kid 'bean' at this stage, but it looked like a blob to me."
Rafael laughed. "You and me and Blob," he said with softly unwavering confidence. "It'll be fine, Liv."
"You've already done more than anyone else has," she whispered.
There was a knock on the door. "Who is it?" Rafael barked, making Liv jump.
"Mijo…"
"Ma, go wait in the living room and we'll be out when Liv is finished with her snack," he said in a softer, resigned tone. The tone of someone who knew he couldn't put off the inevitable forever. "We won't be long."
"I have pastelitos," Lucia said.
Liv perked up. "I want one," she said, nudging Rafael.
He rolled his eyes. "Okay, mami, you can come in," he huffed.
She came in with a platter of pastries and looked around before seeing them hiding in the closet. "Why are you –"
"Does it matter?" he asked darkly. "Give me the things." Rafael got up and went to get the platter from her, his face suddenly softening as he said, "Thank you. How did you know that she'd want –"
"When I was pregnant with you, all I wanted was pastelitos," Lucia said cheerfully. His eyebrows went up and Liv choked on the mouthful of food she was chewing. "Mijo, it was the hot sauce on everything and the way you scurried off with that food like a roach. I'm not blind or stupid, you know." She looked over the bed at Liv. "Congratulations, Olivia."
"You should be congratulating him," Liv said, gesturing at Rafael.
"Why?" Lucia asked. "Yours is the difficult part: you have to grow nuestro pequeño bebé and all he's going to do is make sure you're happy and comfortable and –"
"Well-bedded?" he suggested.
"Rafi, don't be rude," his mother snapped.
Liv blushed. "I – you don't – you don't hate me?" she asked.
Lucia stared at her, then curled her lip and made a disgusted face. "I don't hate you. I never did. I just don't understand why you would want to be with my idiot son after the things he's done and the people he's been with," she muttered. "I question your judgment. But your heart… who am I to question that? My own heart was terrible."
Liv smiled waveringly, tears gathering in her eyes. "If Rafa and I judged each other on who we were before, he would run away and never come back," she said very softly. "And I'm so glad he didn't. Because we wouldn't have each other now. Or Blob."
Lucia said, "Oh no – you aren't calling my grandchild Blob."
"Only until we know if it's a boy or a girl and then we'll be debating real names," Rafael warned. Liv smiled as he brought her the pastries and she took one, not wanting to be greedy. He took two and gave the platter back to his mother; he dropped one onto Liv's plate and ate one himself, always careful to think of her first.
Whatever Lucia's criticisms of her son, surely she could see how he cared for her – for them – and how he was already committed to their tiny family in his own way. But why Liv felt this tiny fierceness in her heart, this determination that his mother be drawn in at all costs, she didn't know. Probably because she had nothing left as far as blood family was concerned and wanted her children to have whatever their father could offer them. It was a small but sad distinction.
She and Lucia made a kind of a truce on Christmas day over pastelitos while Liv was sitting in the closet. It wasn't much, but it was something after all.
He jumped into bed in his hoodie and sweats, glasses perched on his nose. She was rubbing lotion into her hands, wearing much the same outfit as he was, ready to cuddle up under the blankets because it was damn cold outside and pretty damn chilly in the apartment. "Hey," Rafael said, grinning up at her.
"Hey yourself," Olivia replied, smiling back down at him.
"I know that wasn't how you wanted to tell my mother about the baby and all, but it didn't exactly explode in our faces, so…"
"I think we're okay," she agreed softly. "For now, anyway." She nudged him gently. "But we're going to have to clean up the second room and get a crib and a changing table or something. I think we can make this place work with a baby. Your apartment would be better, but since it's under legal dispute –"
"I don't want to go back even if they find in my favor," he said dismissively. "I want to break the contract and find somewhere else with you if we need to. I don't say that to demean the process or dismiss your feelings but… you found this place with –"
She sighed heavily and hung her head. "It was initially his name on the lease, yeah," she agreed. "I just took it over. It's fine, Rafael. I know it's hard for you."
"No, it isn't. That guy was a dick," he said. "He treated you like shit, Olivia, and the last thing I ever want to do is be like him. I want Blob to grow up in a home where his or her parents are happy and in love, not constantly struggling. I feel like we'd always be struggling with the ghosts of our pasts in either of the places we're currently leasing."
Liv nodded and exhaled. "Okay. Somewhere new. Before the baby comes. I don't know how, but we'll make it happen." She reached over and touched his shoulder. "I know I don't say it enough but I do love you. It's hard for me to say it."
"You don't have to," he assured her. "Just be here."
She smiled a little and gave him a kiss. The kiss became more passionate, then he broke away and laughed. "Not to be an old man, but we both have to be up early."
"We do," she agreed breathlessly, curling into his embrace instead. She fell asleep listening to his heartbeat and thinking about how he had come into her life at just the point she was ready to give up on everything. His warm arms and the snug fit of his body around hers spoke to her of home in a way nothing else ever had; she was never going to walk away from that if she could help it.
TBC...