A/N: Flashbacks are going to be more frequent in the next few chapters, as I'd rather show and not tell as I delve into the decline of their marriage.
"Hey, babe," Jane murmured, her lips brushing Maura hair gently, an exhausted sigh slipping between her teeth. She leaned up against the island countertop beside her wife, letting the tension in her body dissipate.
Maura smiled, looking a bit vague herself, before turning to capture Jane's lips lightly with her own. "You're later than I thought you would be."
The words were frustratingly familiar, and Jane swallowed her tongue to subdue a curt remark. She let her lips rest lightly against Maura's jaw for a minute, breathing in her scent until her irritation had waned. "Wanted to get as much paperwork done as I could tonight," she answered. "With Jenna's party tomorrow, I figured it'd be best to cover my bases as far in advance as I could. I am not missing her birthday," Jane stated firmly, more for herself than for Maura. "I don't care if there's a massacre tomorrow – I am gonna be there for my kid."
"Careful, or else you're certain to jinx it," muttered Maura, who was far too educated to believe in superstitions, but not quite confident enough to believe they were immune to ill-fated tragedy.
A slight shuffling diverted Jane's attention to couch, where she was surprised to find her daughter nestled amongst the throw pillows. Jenna's long hair fell in shiny waves down her back, now nearly reaching her waist. She held a thick novel in her lap, her head lowered in intense concentration as she devoured the literature that was well beyond her years.
"You didn't put her to bed yet?" Jane glanced over the microwave clock, making sure she had the time correct.
"The flashlight we keep in the drawer by the refrigerator is missing, Jane," Maura answered with a tiny smile. "I remember those days all too well, making a canopy out of my sheets as I fervently devoured what I could by flashlight long after my parents had sent me to bed. I decided that perhaps it was best to let her read out here for a little while instead of having her strain her eyes under the covers."
Jane raised an eyebrow. "Or you could have taken away the flashlight."
"It's her birthday tomorrow," Maura reminded her. "We can enforce bedtime and confiscate the flashlight later."
"What's she reading anyway?" Jane squinted. It was a sizable book, a hefty endeavor for a nearly six-year-old to be reading.
"Anne of Green Gables," Maura answered, glancing fondly at their daughter.
"I thought you were saving that to read to her before bed," Jane noted.
"She's a much too impatient and voracious reader to wait for me."
"Gosh, she really is a mini you. Remind me to take her outside and play catch with her this weekend," Jane added in a playfully sarcastic tone.
"She is quite a bit like I am, though." Jane had expected Maura to feel more prideful in this realization; however, her tone was wistful. "I worry she's too much like I am sometimes."
Jane frowned. "And what is the supposed to mean? She's beautiful, smart, sweet – I couldn't have asked for a better kid, even though her favorite color is pink…"
"She's distant, though, Jane," Maura brushed aside the lightness Jane had attempted to bring to the conversation. "Her teacher told me she spent the entire duration of playtime reading her book today, which I know would typically thrill any parent, but it means she's not interacting with the other children."
"It's just one time, Maur. So what if she's a little introverted? She starts getting too involved with the other kids, and you have her getting into fist fights like I always did." Jane offered her what reassurance she could.
"She's hardly had any friends over this school year, though," Maura continued morosely. "I don't mind it if my daughter is introverted - I just don't want her to be lonely." Maura's voice broke slightly over the last word, and Jane felt her own throat tighten.
"What's this really all about?" Jane reached to stroke the skin between Maura's elbow and forearm softly, attempting to coax more from her. She had a sinking suspicion that Maura's words transcended their daughter's social habits. Jane hated that spending time with Maura had once been so effortless; now, it seemed a cruel joke that marriage and motherhood had separated the two more than drawing them closer, the tension of their busy, independent lives now a burden.
Maura took a moment to answer, a heavy silence lacing between them before Maura let the words tumble from her lips. "I want to have another baby."
"What?" Jane felt winded, unprepared for the impact of the words, feeling startled, as she had not expected Maura to veer off in this direction as a result of her prodding. Of course, they had mentioned the possibility, but Jane was not prepared for Maura to bring up the topic with such definitiveness.
"I see how you are with your brothers, Jane - how you've always been with your brothers. The way you protect each other, defend each other - You always have someone there for you, someone who openly expresses their love for you, and I imagine is was quite lovely to grow up with natural companionship. I want Jenna to have that; I want us to have that." She let out a small sigh, her eyes landing on their daughter.
"We don't need to have a huge, Italian family to be happy," Jane reminded her, clasping Maura's hand between her own. "Plus, little brothers are annoying as hell. You really want to subject Jenna to that?"
Maura spent a minute looking down at their hands. "So you don't want to have another baby, then?" Her voice was heartbreakingly small.
"No!" Jane defended immediately, slightly flustered as she plowed on. "It's not that! It's just that I wasn't expecting us to bring that up now, that's all. It's a lot to think about, Maur. I just...we need to talk more about it before we make that kind of decision. But I'm not opposed to the possibility, okay? We made a damn fine kid the first go around, so I wouldn't be opposed to bringing more perfection to this world." Her stomach felt warm as Maura's eyes lit up, the alleviated tension leaving room for hope. She found Maura's lips again, pressing her own against hers lightly in a reassuring manner. "We'll talk more later, I promise."
She left Maura in the kitchen to join her daughter on the couch, who did not so much as flinch as Jane sank into the cushion beside her.
"Hey, kiddo, you can finish this chapter and then its off to bed, okay? I don't want you to be a zombie at your party tomorrow," Jane raised an eyebrow.
No response.
"Hellooo, earth to Jenna," she waved her palm in front of Jenna's face, only to earn an irritated grumble.
"I'm almost done with this chapter, though. Can we make it two? Please?" Jenna looked up at her with her large hazel eyes, her lips curved into a perfect pout.
Jane pursed her own lips. "God, you're getting good at that...but the answer is no, okay? I'm not trying to be the big bad wolf here, but it's almost eleven, and even your mother and I are getting ready to head to bed."
Jenna nodded reluctantly, nestling more deeply into her cocoon of pillows, shutting Jane out once again.
Maybe Maura was right. A sibling might do her some good. While she hardly wished to deter Jenna from pursuing her interests, she didn't want her to be overcome by the same anti-social tendencies that had taken Maura years to break herself from. Though they vowed to never be the distant, aloof parents that Maura had grown up with, the reality of their lives was a far cry from the over involved, stay-at-home mother that had defined Jane's upbringing, and even then, she'd had her brothers. And honestly, she wouldn't have traded either of them for the world.
But she was frightened at the prospect of expanding their family. They had reached a manageable routine, and Jenna was now old enough and independent enough that Jane's extended work day left her feeling less guilty. She longed for comfort, for a long awaited sensation of peace and satisfaction to settle within her, telling her she'd done well. She wasn't sure if she was headed toward that now. Jenna may have been older now, and at only six-years-old, she was already frighteningly self-sufficient and advanced, two traits that, as Maura had feared, were causing her to become somewhat reclusive. Perhaps having another baby would be good for Jenna, but Jane was left with an uneasy feeling in her stomach, the idea of second time motherhood frighteningly overwhelming.
XXX
The persistent beeping that had initially lulled Maura to sleep subsequently roused her from her slumber. Her head had fallen against the surface of the bed, the bundle of sheets beside Jane's leg making a poor makeshift pillow. She could feel the imprint that the folds of the stiff bed linens had left against her cheek as she sat up abruptly. Her neck was sore and her eyes ached with exhaustion, but she felt empty now that she was devoid of the warmth emanating off of Jane's body.
On the far wall of the room, the clock cloaked in shadows told her that it was just past two o'clock. The passage of time startled her, as she had meant to merely stop in. She had simply wanted to see Jane, to confirm her safety. She supposed it was just as well that she hadn't woken. After all, Maura hardly knew what she'd say. The realization left her with an emptiness in her stomach, and she was suddenly at a loss at how to handle the influx of emotion without the option of immersing herself in distraction.
She stepped toward the bed, looking at Jane's face for a prolonged moment. Ever so softly, she brushed the loose curls away from Jane's forehead. The motion was achingly familiar, and she abruptly left, before her suppressed anguish became too overwhelming.
XXX
The house was dark as she entered through the front door, her arms laden with plastic shopping bags. Though she had been diverted from her original mission, the errand was still necessary, and the late night trip to the 24 hour grocery store had given her time to decompress.
She placed the bags on the countertop, surprised to see a light flash on unexpectedly in the living room. Her heart jumped for a minute, before she noticed her sleepy son rousing himself from the couch.
"Cody? What are you doing here, honey?" She left the bags on the counter as she approached him.
"You forgot your phone," he reached over the coffee table, waving the slim device to exhibit his claim. "I was gonna wait up for you to make sure you were okay, but I guess I passed out."
Maura balanced herself on the edge of the couch. "You didn't have to do that."
"I know. But I wanted to." He flashed her a sleepy smile, heaving his body into an upright position. "It's nearly 3am," he noticed glancing at her phone again. He attempted to keep the tone light. "Do I want to know where you were?"
There was no reason for her to lie, though a certain heaviness filled her stomach as she admitted her whereabouts. "I was visiting your Ma."
Cody looked slightly startled. "How did that go?"
"She was much too incapacitated and medicated for the visit to amount to much of anything," Maura muttered, reminding herself once again that her stealthy visit had been for the best.
Cody didn't speak for a good minute, though he scooted closer to her on the couch, patting the cushion beside him. She felt small as she nestled herself up against his side. "You look like you could use a hug."
His words were simple, but they left Maura with a knot in her throat. She nodded, her head falling against his shoulder as his large arms practically engulfed her. "I love you." She whispered, her voice dangerously hoarse.
"I love you, too, Mom," he answered, giving her a squeeze. "You know that, right?"
She nodded again, this time a few tears spilling over. "I'm just not sure I know how to be a good mother anymore - you and Jenna have grown up so incredibly fast, especially these past few years, and every time I feel as though I'm getting a grasp on it all again, I look at you two and realize that I'm missing so much."
He let the words settle for a minute. "Well, we're all here now. It's never to late to keep trying, right? I mean, I haven't been doing much on my end either. But I'll be graduating soon, and I'll need a place be crashing before I go out and make my mark on the world. So just giving me a roof over my head is gonna be a good place for you to start again."
The logic was simple, but it left Maura with a warmth flowing through her weary body. For the first time in ages, she didn't feel alone.