Chapter 122
And As We Go On

Monday morning started as it was expected to start. Maya had a few moments to quietly enjoy the peace of waking with Lucas next to her, of thinking everything was about as good as it got, and then she felt the familiar lurch that sent her off to the bathroom. Lucas got up as soon as he felt her rise, and he went to check on the boys. He found Noah still asleep, little hands grappling at whatever he was dealing with in his dreams, while Elliott was awake. He had been walking across the room when the door opened, and he froze, like a deer in headlights. His trajectory told his father exactly what he'd been after.

"Hey, do you need to go before we get that on you? Elliott?" Lucas gave his son a pointed look. The previous morning, he'd insisted to get his bear costume on, first thing in the morning, which had led to an unfortunate incident that sent the poor bear into the washing machine.

"Little…" he finally nodded.

"Right, well…" Lucas looked to the side, considering for a moment. "Let's get you down to the basement, Mommy's using this bathroom here, okay?" he held out his hand until the boy would follow, which he did… tentatively. He didn't like the basement bathroom. There was nothing wrong with it, not in the slightest, but at some point, he had gotten it in his two-year-old mind that the place was scary. "I'm right here, okay? I'm staying with you the whole time, I promise."

So, down they went to the basement, where Lucas stood in the doorway to the basement while Elliott did what he had to do. The way he would keep staring up at him, almost never breaking eye contact, it was hard for his father not to start laughing, but he kept it together in the end. When he brought him back upstairs to – at long last – 'bear up,' they met Maya in the hall, as she was coming from the other bathroom.

"Mommy, I went in the down-down the stairs!" Elliott proudly proclaimed. That was what he called the basement, and they couldn't fault his logic.

"Your bodyguard took you?" she asked with a smirk to Lucas. Elliott looked back at his father and laughed.

"Daddy," he tugged his arm and pointed back to his room.

"Bear time," Lucas told Maya, his face saying instead 'sorry I couldn't be there.' She just smiled and tipped her head. Elliott took priority as far as she was concerned. So, while Lucas helped one son into his costume and saw the other through waking, she went down to the kitchen.

She was going back today, back to class, back to Stella's… She couldn't say how her nausea would behave today, but going by the last couple of days, she could be hopeful that it would be more in check than it had been in the days before. As much as she would like to think it would be so, she had no delusions of this being the norm from now on, that things wouldn't take a turn again before this was over. That didn't mean she would stop everything and just sit and wait for more sickness though. No, she would get back out there, and whatever happened, she would deal with it.

After breakfast, they were soon on their way. They might have left separately today, so Maya would be able to drive off to the Buckley house and back, but it was sort of mutually agreed that she was better off being a passenger in case her stomach got any ideas. So, Lucas drove them both off to the university, with enough time to spare so that he got to walk Maya off to her first class.

"You haven't told them yet?" Lucas asked as they spotted Diana and Farah coming their way the moment that they noticed them.

"Nope," Maya confirmed. "Just said I was sick as a dog, which… yeah…"

"Are you going to tell them now?"

"Might as well, right? We're not shouting it out, but friends are different. And what if we run into Dylan or Rosa out here, and they let it slip. You're telling yours, too, right?"

"I am if you are," Lucas nodded. "Might need to track down Ramona and the others, too."

Diana and Farah, caring friends that they were, greeted Maya's return with great care and caution. Was she okay? Was she feeling better? She still looked a little sickly, maybe she could have stayed home another day or two? When they found out the actual reason, they paused in such an unintentionally synchronized way that it made Maya and Lucas laugh. As the latter had to go, he watched his wife head off with her friends, and he knew they'd look out for her all day.

Walking on his way to his first class, he sent out a text to Ramona, Gabriela, and Ariana, asking if they could meet up at some point today, and if so when and where. It was good to be back here today, knowing that Maya was here, too, that she was feeling better. As much as they'd known this would almost definitely be a part of her experience, in some way or another, they would be very glad when it was over, and they could look on ahead to what would come next. Half of the previous week, when Maya had been going the way she had, he'd been here, going through his days, and for the most part he was focused, didn't look particularly out of sorts, but on the inside, a great part of him was back home with her. If anyone had noticed any of this, they'd kept it to themselves, and he was thankful.

Garrett and Carmen found him, one and then the other, as he was waiting in line to get coffee before class started. They asked how his weekend was, with Valentine's Day and all. He had told them that Maya was home sick last Thursday but like with her friends he had misdirected on the cause. So, he started off telling them about Noah and his wings, and Elliott the teddy bear, and they thought it was all very sweet, which of course it was. Then he slipped in ever so casually that they had finished the calendar so that the boys could count down the days until their new baby brother or sister would be born, and he watched his friends' faces register the news. It was exactly as he would have imagined from these two, and they spent the rest of the time waiting for the start of class with Lucas sharing the story of how he'd found out about the pregnancy, and how they ended up telling the families and their other friends.

X

Maya didn't realize how glad she'd be to return to class until she was there, in the room, catching up with her professor. She'd written to all of them on Thursday and Friday, explaining exactly why she was absent. She was relieved to find how all of them were very understanding and willing to work with her so she could catch up. She was left with the sense that they knew her enough by now to trust that she would put in the time, that she'd do the work.

As glad as she was to be in class again, really the thing she'd been looking forward to the most for today was outside the university. She was due at the Buckley house, for a make-up session with Stella. She could just as easily have gone on to their regular time and forget the missed day, but she didn't want to do that. She wanted Stella to know and trust that this was more than a job to her and that she mattered a great deal to her.

When the time came, she called for a ride to get her to the house. She warned the driver as soon as she got in the car that she might need him to pull over if she was going to be sick. Luckily, he was the kind of driver who would meet a request like this with determination. He would take care of her by driving as smoothly as possible, and if they had to stop, then they would stop, and he would assist her. Thankfully, they reached the house without trouble. When they pulled up, Mr. Buckley came hurrying out of the house. He insisted on paying for her car. Maya let him, though she also went ahead and gave her driver his tip herself. He had more than earned it.

"Hi, Maya!" Stella appeared at the top of the stairs as she walked into the house.

Maya could just see that she was barefoot, her long hair pulled into a hasty and loose bun. She had heard her talk before of how she had clothes she kept specifically for when she was painting, and Maya guessed these were some of those. Both her shirt, with its long and loose floral sleeves, and her overalls were covered in stains of many colors, some in larger patches and others in tiny droplets. Her hands were as paint splattered as she'd ever seen them, and her eyes had the spark of someone who'd just been in the midst of a creative flourish.

"Eat your food," Mr. Buckley pointed up to his daughter with a knowing smile.

"I am, I am," Stella promised. When Maya reached the top of the stairs, she turned to her and explained. Evidently, Stella had always seen her lunch breaks as 'time to make stuff' almost as much if not more than 'time to eat.' She was on the whole a great multitasker, but sometimes she would forget her plate and she would be seen carrying it back down to the kitchen so she could warm it up again and give it her undivided attention once her stomach grew loud with protests at being kept waiting.

"What's on the menu today?" Maya asked as they headed toward Stella's room.

"Dad's 'famous' Irish stew," Stella informed her. "Extra carrots." She indicated the bowl where it sat on a stool just outside the closet studio. It was still steaming, so it couldn't have been there long… unless it had already needed reheating. "He says that's how he got my mom to fall in love with him, that no matter what their life was going to be, she'd always had something good to eat." She paused, looked back at her. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Eat your food," Maya smirked, calling back Mr. Buckley's statement. "Let me see what you've been up to."

So, Stella plopped down on an old beanbag chair, designated for her to sit even if she had wet paint on her clothes, and dug into her bowl while Maya went to look at her easel. She had been busy lately. There were several drawings, and paintings stuck in clips she had mounted on some doors and shelves. She liked to display her art a while before sending them off to binders, folders, and file cabinets, or to whichever person they'd been made for. Since they'd started their lessons, it was usually where Maya would find Stella's assignments. There'd usually been one or two, but today there were six, most in pencil – lead or color – and one in watercolor. And there was the canvas on the easel, bearing the colors previously spotted on Stella's hands and clothing.

"How long have you been working on this one?" Maya asked, indicating the canvas.

"I don't know, two years or something," Stella replied, once she'd swallowed her bite.

"Two years?" Maya repeated, amazed.

"Well… I had this dream once, and I saw this place in there. I don't know, it made me really happy, and I tried to reproduce it, but I never got it the way I wanted to, so I started over… a few times… I go months between trying, then sooner or later, the feeling's there like I have to try again. That one, I started a few days ago."

"And is it working out for you?"

"I'm not sure. I'll know when I'm done. It's just… the feeling has to be right," Stella explained before spearing up another chunk of carrot. Maya couldn't say if she was trying to eat through all those first or keeping most for the end.

"No, I understand what you mean," she slowly nodded before moving to rejoin her. The scent of the paint wasn't that strong, but Maya didn't want to run the risk that it would end up overwhelming her, so she got away from it. There was some concern that the smell of the food would be the thing to trigger her, but actually… it kind of had the opposite effect. Next thing she knew, she was asking after Mr. Buckley's stew and what was in it. Stella happily obliged. She'd have a medium-sized plastic container of it packed away for her before she left.

"Maya?" Stella asked.

"Yeah?" she asked back. The girl looked just a bit unsure here, but Maya encouraged her with a nod. She still wouldn't speak. "What's the matter?"

"I just… I was wondering… about you being sick last week, but I don't… I'm not…" Stella struggled her way through explaining, and something in the way her eyes moved made it suddenly very clear to Maya what she was trying to say. She had suspicions, but should those suspicions turn out to be wrong…

"I'm pregnant," she just went ahead and said it, and the flood of happy relief confirmed her suspicion.

"So, was it the morning sickness?"

"Getting less and less on board with that name, kind of misleading, but yes," Maya nodded.

"Oh, I know. And some people don't have it at all."

"Why couldn't I be one of those?" Maya muttered to herself.

"My mom told me once how she had almost none with any of my sisters before me, but when she was going to have me, it was really bad. She had to give up a role, but she didn't mind in the end, 'cause she got me," Stella smiled.

"Pretty great trade off, I agree," Maya smiled back.

"Maybe she knows how to make it better. I can ask her."

"At this point, I don't see why not," Maya agreed. Sure, she had several people already throwing her every last remedy they'd tried or heard about and it was getting to be a bit too much, but this was Stella wanting to help, and Maya wasn't about to get in the middle of that.

"When are you going to have the baby?"

"September," she replied. "That'll be a nice change of pace. My husband and both of our boys were born in May."

"Wow…"

"Yeah, lots of cakes to do," Maya gave her a look and it made Stella give a small laugh. "Speaking of which, we never got around to making our weird cakes, you and me. I think, if your parents are okay with us using the kitchen, we could make that into a lesson… I know you're like me when it comes to trying out new materials to create with." The smile she got said it all. "Alright, then, while you finish eating, we can figure this out. What should we do?"

X

Lucas arrived home that evening to find Maya on the couch, feet laid out ahead of her, with a bowl and a fork. He could hear Pappy Joe and the boys off in the kitchen.

"I'm sorry, I was so hungry and…" Maya gestured to her bowl with innocent eyes. Lucas approached the couch and looked down.

"What is it?"

"Mr. Buckley's 'famous' Irish stew," she informed him, holding up the bowl only so far as it would take for him to smell it before pulling it back almost as though he intended to take it from her. "That family is so nice…"

"How's the stomach?" Lucas smiled. She was clearly very content and chipper right about now, which was how he liked to see her on any day.

"Better right now," she hummed, taking another bite.

"Can I…" Lucas pointed to the bowl. Maya cradled it a little closer. "Fair, that's fair."

TO BE CONTINUED

See you next week! - mooners