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Chapter Thirty-Two: December, 14th

"Are you going to use strawberry jam?" Biting her lower lip – a twinkle in her eyes – Maura raised an eyebrow at Jane as she leaned against the kitchen counter. She grabbed a few chocolate chips.

Snap. "Hey, this isn't a Las Vegas buffet. I need them for the cookies I'm baking. Step out of the kitchen now if you plan on gulping down all the ingredients." Oh God... You sound like ma'. The realization did not really help Jane to relax. On the contrary. "These are for Guadalupe."

"Nice. Would you mind giving some to Manuella as well when you see her at the hospital?" Innocent – or so – tone of voice. Maura counted until three in her head and smiled as the expected reaction got the best of her wife. She burst out laughing, raised her hands in the air before rolling her eyes. "I told you I had not slept with her! She is straight. You are cute when jealous for no reason whatsoever, Jane. Dumb but cute."

"Why excuse me but I'd expect you to react the same way if Lara Croft's twin suddenly appeared in my life." She grabbed the flour with frustration and poured a third of it out of the salad bowl. Grand. Who had said that baking was relaxing, exactly?

"Lara Croft? Is she one of your fantasies?" Suddenly intrigued, Maura tried to sit up on a stool. In vain. Her weight and stomach prevented her from doing so. Who has invented such high chairs? Obviously a man who has never gone through a multiple pregnancy. Sexist moron!

"Why she surely is stunning, don't you think so?" Although to be completely honest, Jane would prefer to look like her than to end up in bed with her. Nuance.

Maura shrugged, not really convinced. "I am not a big supporter of weapons."

The remark made Jane laugh. She hadn't expected such reply. Not at all. "You do realize that I own a gun, right?" Cookie dough ready, she grabbed the chocolate chips and smirked at the honey blonde.

"You are a homicide detective, this is completely different. It is part of your job attire as the white coat is for mine. If you weren't in the law enforcement, I hope you wouldn't own any weapon at all. You are not a gun freak... Out of the BPD – on your days off like today – you don't wear it nor go to a shooting range for entertainment purposes."

True enough. Jane knew the power of guns – the pain they could inflict if not worse – and the more it went, the less she liked carrying one around. When the babies were born, she would put it out of reach, in a locked place. She didn't want her daughters to ever approach it.

"So what are you going to do, today? I know you always take a day off on December, 14th but why? Is it a secret of some sort? Christmas shopping? Nah. I'm sure you've already got them all since October or something."

The smile on Maura's lips disappeared as her gaze got lost in the contemplation of the kitchen counter. Her features deepened, she shook her head. Her fingers tapping nervously on the ceramic. "No... As a matter of fact, I always wait for the last minute for it. I err... Do you remember Myriam?"

How could Jane forget? The confession in Punta Cana had probably made them grow closer. Or at least had it pushed herself to confess that she had also dated women. Not that it was worth mentioning even now. Before Maura, same-sex dating had resulted in pain and utter disappointment. Complete fail.

"Yeah..."

"She passed away on December, 14th. A few years ago. I know it is stupid since we hadn't kept in touch at all but... I don't know... This day is always a bit singular, for me. I don't go to her grave or anything... But still. Do you see what I mean?" The pain on Maura's face was evident. She swallowed hard, took a deep breath.

Her stomach hurt, vaguely.

"Of course. Of course, I do. And I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked, obviously." Embarrassed, Jane tried to focus back on the cookies. Perhaps she should add something, anything. Change the topic. But not a single word managed to reach her lips. She felt utterly stupid.

"So I am spending the day at home. Taking a bath, reading a novel, listening to music and if I dare to say so, thinking about the past. It isn't that I still love her – don't be worried – but she had importance and made of me who I am now. I can't erase her from my memory like that. It wouldn't be fair."

"Did you know that Marina – her daughter – was a lesbian when you dated Myriam? I guess I never really asked you about that. Disturbing coincidence she was at the Club Med at the same time as us." Jane intended a laugh but it fell flat. She shook her head in apologies. Obviously, this wasn't a day her tact skills would show and shine.

"Sort of..." Maura made a face – winced in pain, actually – and brought a hand to her side, rubbing her stomach while leaning a bit more against the counter for support. "My skin is tense, today. It is really unpleasant..." Stop complaining, Isles. You are doing perfectly fine. Think about Guadalupe – stuck in bed at the hospital – under very strict observation for extremely serious complications. Her pregnancy is a lot harder than yours. A lot more compromised.

They hadn't induced the painter's labor but it now seemed obvious that she woudn't reach her due date. Yet she was only six-month pregnant. It was too early. The situation was far from being perfect but all the medical staff was trying to make the gestation last a maximum to give all the chances to Haumea.

"The twins are pulling on your skin. The good thing is that they won't tear it open and you shouldn't be thrown in a remake of Alien. Go lie down on the couch, I'll apply some coconut lotion on your stomach and – if you're nice enough – maybe we'll use the fetal Doppler as well. It's been a while."

Maura frowned but didn't complain. She was still surprised by Jane's surge of protectiveness. She did not stop reading books about pregnancy and wasn't lost anymore when the scientist used any medical term usually susceptible to confuse her. She was invested, deeply. And it was sweet.

"Are you baking extra cookies for me...?" Genuine question – or so – followed by a sheepish smile. As the honey blonde lay down and arranged a few cushions behind her head, she raised a flirty eyebrow at her wife and bit her lips. She didn't stop eating but she had reached this point when she could not care less anymore. "It isn't for me but for the girls. I am sure that they have a sweet tooth. Especially Lucie."

Jane laughed, shook her head. "How do you know it isn't Alba?"

For long seconds, Maura remained quiet and focused on Coco Loco who had silently climbed on top of her stomach and was now looking down at it as if sensing that something was going on inside. It was a weird scene to witness. Intriguing, funny. "Because Alba pushes me to eat the chips, of course."

…

Quietly – afraid to disturb the imposing silence of the place – Jane knocked on the door and waited for Guadalupe's voice to tell her to enter. It had been a week now that the painter had been admitted to the hospital and the detective had already visited her three times.

"Hi... I err... I brought you some cookies I made this morning." Jane timidly held the box out to her friend and sat on the edge of the bed before twisting her hands. "How are you?"

"Oh my God, that's so nice... Thank you..." Guadalupe smiled and grabbed Jane's hand to hold it tight. "I'm okay. Sure I'd prefer to be home but I guess I can't complain much. The results were good today. Much more positive than the original ones. And Haumea doesn't stop moving, that's a good sign too. How are you? How is Maura?"

Jane nodded enthusiastically. "She's fine! We're fine. The girls are okay too, kind of big for twins as a matter of fact. Maura uses that as an excuse to eat junk food which is completely surrealistic. Like this morning, she didn't tell me anything about instant coffee because she was too busy gulping down that organic Nutella thing she bought yesterday. The jar is now almost empty."

Guadalupe burst out laughing before joyfully biting into a cookie. "Something tells me she'll go in one of these restrictive diets once she gives birth. Is she still due in May?"

"They might schedule it for April now considering the weight of the twins..." Jane's voice broke a bit. She looked down at her lap and took a deep breath to calm down. As much as she hadn't said anything about it, she hadn't welcomed the news very well. A pregnancy was supposed to last nine months for a reason. Not eight or seven but nine. She wanted her daughters to be healthy.

Sensing her apprehension, Guadalupe frowned and tightened the grip on the detective's hand. "Hey... It is going to be okay, don't worry like that. Take it as a sign they're just like Haumea. They want to show up a bit earlier. You know how it is. Kids, these days..." The painter laughed lightly, rolled her eyes.

Timid nod. "And... And for you? Do you have any idea whether they can make your pregnancy last a bit longer? Unless it's too early to say...?" A wave of heat rushed up Jane's cheeks. She didn't know if she had done well to ask. It was a delicate matter. Yet she couldn't pretend that nothing had happened nor that they were quietly sipping tea at her place.

Guadalupe shrugged. How could she seem so calm? Her pregnancy had suddenly been put in jeopardy. Without any warning. Jane would have lost her patience by now. And her courage too. "It's hard to say for the moment... They would love it if I could wait for the end of January so I'm hoping for it. Sadly I can't do much myself... Apart from staying in this bed and eating all these yummy cookies. Damn they are good, Jane!"

The Italian smiled and looked by the window. It was heavily snowing now. Boston was disappearing – little by little – under a layer of whiteness, stifling the sound of traffic and steps. "Will you have to be here for Christmas?"

Guadalupe nodded. "Lisa is already working on a plan to get me real turkey without the nurses to know about it."

"Great wife."

The painter smiled. "Definitely."