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Bambina: Good morning :)
Carina inhaled and stretched, blinking heavily as she woke. She hadn’t heard her phone ping, but she blindly grabbed for it, squinting in the room’s lowlight.
The message was simple, it was easy, and it made Carina smile, a still too-rare occurrence these days. She turned onto her back, holding the phone in both hands, and rolled her eyes because it felt like a swarm of butterflies had taken up residence in her stomach.
A simple greeting from her wife.
Her wife who’d stopped sending her simple greetings months ago. Who’d stopped checking in. Who’d stopped acknowledging that it was morning or that anything was good or that Carina was awake at all.
The thoughts played on an endless loop. Carina would feel hope when she saw Maya. She’d feel love and excitement and attraction. And then she’d remember Maya’s screams. The cold shoulders. She’d remember Maya’s words, flung like shards of glass, and all that hope and love and excitement and attraction would turn to fear and doubt.
But she couldn’t deny what she could see. And what she could see was Maya’s healthy glow. Her wife looked like something out of an ad for athletic gear. Muscular and fit, her cheeks positively rosy. She looked like she’d been taking care of herself – like she’d been regularly eating and sleeping. Underneath her adorable awkwardness, there was a calm. Carina had felt it the night Maya slept over.
She wasn’t used to the calm. For months, Maya had felt like the opposite of calm as Carina relived the anxiety of her childhood. How many times had Vincenzo yelled only to appear later with warmth and apologies? The love bombing was addictive. She recognized how much she craved it, she understood it was part of her.
So to feel lit from Maya – the volatility, the fear, the awareness that she was triggered by the person she loved and trusted more than anyone else in the world?
Carina was cautious. She was scared to let herself believe what she was seeing. But she wanted to and the want was quickly pushing away the fear. Because the want was tangled up in need. Carina needed Maya. In her life. By her side. She needed her.
Carina: Buongiorno
There was no response back. No multi-tweet ramble. Just a simple hello.
Carina smiled again as she pushed away the covers. She’d asked for slow. “Good morning” was more than enough.
~*~
Bambina: What’s your favourite colour?
Carina pulled off her scrub cap and paused, unsure she’d read the message correctly. Why would Maya be asking her favourite colour? Maya knew her favourite colour. She’d jokingly told her on their second date when…
Realization dawned and Carina practically giggled. She was being ridiculous, the whole thing was ridiculous, but Carina didn’t care. The attention felt good.
Carina: It depends on the time of year
Three dots appeared, as Carina finally made it back to her office. She sat behind her desk, relieved to find her thermos of coffee half-full and still hot.
Bambina: Fair – what’s your favourite SPRING colour?
She wanted to flirt back. She wanted to write something about Maya’s eyes. She imagined Maya sitting somewhere in the Station – maybe in the Beanery or perched on the truck – waiting for her response. The thought of her smile, her hair loose from its ponytail thanks to her helmet, a smudge of grease across her cheek. Carina had it bad.
Except there was the fear bubbling up inside too. The hesitancy. She’d meant it when she’d asked for a slow wooing. Maya was letting her dictate the speed, though part of Carina was starting to think that slow was overrated.
Carina: Blue
Maya texted back with a firetruck emoji and a heart. A blue heart.
There was a picture frame in Carina’s desk drawer, a frame that used to sit next to Andrea’s on her desk, a frame that she’d put away because it hurt too much.
Carina opened the drawer and looked down, taking in the beloved face staring back at her. Maya was always beautiful, her eyes were always stunning, but sometimes the light caught her just right and those blue eyes would turn crystal, a deep ocean covered in ice. Just like they were in the picture.
Maya stared directly at the camera, Carina wrapped in her arms. They were both smiling, small, content smiles. It had been a cold day, but Vic insisted that they go up to the roof to see the sunset, to watch the world turn pink and gold. Carina could still remember the warmth of Maya’s body pressed against her back, the soft tickle of her cheek as she’d pressed her face to the side of Carina’s head.
It wasn’t Maya that caught Carina’s attention in the photograph though. It was her own face. It was the way she looked at Maya, the way she so obviously loved the woman holding her.
Carina stared at a version of herself that she’d thought lost with Maya’s anger, with her rage.
The phone didn’t ping again.
~*~
“I take it things are going well?”
Bailey’s voice pulled Carina from her tablet, but when she looked up, all she saw was a bouquet of tulips thrust in her direction. Carina grabbed them, confused by the sudden intrusion of florals in her life and Bailey’s smug expression.
“Sorry, what are these?” Carina asked, holding the vase at arm’s length. The tulips were yellow with red flecks. They were beautiful, fresh, and judging by their shape, they would open over the next few days bringing much needed colour to her drab office.
“They were left at the nurse’s station for you,” Bailey said, “as was this.”
Bailey practically levitated as she handed Carina a small card. The handwriting was undoubtably Maya’s.
Saturday, The Pink Door 8PM
<3 Maya
“The Pink Door? That girl has moves,” Bailey whistled, tapping the small paper with her fingertip. Carina rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the smile from her lips.
“We haven’t been there in years,” Carina said softly, remembering a shared evening early in their relationship. She couldn’t quite recall the topic of conversation, or what they’d ordered. But she did remember how happy she’d felt to be with Maya, to spend the night with her.
The restaurant didn’t necessarily hold any sentimental value for them. It wasn’t Joe’s or Kaminsky’s. But Carina understood. She understood how thoughtful Maya’s choice was for their date.
There was no pressure to recreate something sacred. No expectations. Just an invitation to spend the night sitting close, sharing a bottle of wine, enjoying each other. Carina had butterflies, though she very much wished Bailey wasn’t staring at her with an increasingly wide grin. She wanted to enjoy her silly butterflies in private.
“Carina DeLuca, you have it bad,” Bailey laughed, lightly squeezing Carina’s arm.
She couldn’t deny it, but she tilted her head and raised one finger, silencing Bailey’s teasing before looking down at the flowers again.
They would last until Saturday. Until their date.
Yellow and red and Maya Bishop’s handwriting.
A blooming reminder of what lay ahead.
Bailey was right. Carina had it bad.
~*~
Bambina: So you grew up in Italy?
It was only Wednesday. Wednesday night to be more exact, and Carina wanted to be exact. Because Wednesday night was much closer to Saturday than Wednesday morning. She knew she could swing by the station to see Maya, but she’d made an active choice not to, the anticipation was delicious, and she felt positively giddy with it.
Carina made herself comfortable in bed and then bit her lip, wondering where Maya was going with her line of questioning.
Carina: I did. Sicily
Bambina: I think I’ve heard of it. This is their national dish, right?
The attached picture was very clearly taken in the Beanery. Maya held a piece of pizza, beaming at the camera, and Carina laughed out loud in the silence of her hotel room because there was most definitely pineapple melted on top of the cheese.
Carina: If you eat that, I will cancel our date
The next picture wasn’t a picture at all, but a video. Carina pressed play and snorted as she watched an outstretched hand carry the pizza slice towards the kitchen and toss it in the garbage can.
Bambina: Crisis averted
Carina: Your sacrifice is appreciated
Bambina: Worth it ;)
Carina wanted to hear Maya’s voice. She wanted to see that silly face in person. But even more, she wanted to get this right. She wanted this new foundation to hold. And declaring her undying love for Maya Bishop before they’d even had a chance to do the work needed was only going to undermine any progress they’d made.
So instead, Carina lay back, unable to take her eyes away from the picture of Maya and her pizza.
“I love you,” she whispered, trying out the words alone in the silence of her hotel room.
Maya’s smile was so wide.
“I love you,” Carina said again.
She fell asleep holding the phone to her chest. Despite the pineapple.
~*~
Carina firmly believed in the power of a good cry. She didn’t judge herself for doing it, the reason was entirely logical, and she was allowed to feel her feelings. But after a hard day, walking into her hotel room and trying to stomach another night alone was doing little to ease her pain.
She sat on the edge of the bed, sniffling gently, trying to progress through the emotions. It was the only way to the other side. Feel them. Release them. Move on.
When her phone pinged, she almost didn’t check. Everything felt heavy and even though she adored Maya’s sweet daily text messages, the realities of life were making it difficult to play along. She didn’t have it in her. Not after the day she’d had.
Still, she was always anxious when Maya was on shift, so with a heavy sigh she pulled her phone from her pocket. Just to ensure sure everything was okay.
Bambina: How many today?
Carina’s smile was wobbly, the question forcing more tears and a bittersweet longing. It was an exchange she’d had with Maya so many times. When their schedules were in conflict and they went days without seeing each other, the how many today texts were a lifeline.
How many calls?
And Maya would tell her about the fires she put out or the people she saved.
How many babies?
And Carina would tell Maya about the little lives she brought into the world.
The question hurt. It hurt so much that Carina barely thought before responding.
Carina: Too many
She blinked, realizing how the answer must have sounded, but Maya wrote back before she could clarify.
Bambina: Too many babies?
Carina: Sorry. Just a hard day. I’m fine.
The silence returned. Carina set her phone down and looked around the room, at the open suitcases and piles of clothes. She wiped away a tear from her cheek, though another quickly took its place, and with a resigned sigh, she decided it was time to get ready for bed.
Sometimes it felt like Maya was a ghost. An invisible presence by her side that she couldn’t shake. Because the memory of Maya was everywhere. It filled Carina with such longing that there were days she felt sick from the absence.
As she brushed her teeth. As she changed into a white-tshirt and an old pair of sweatpants, Maya was there. Stealing the towel. Pulling gently at her joggers, teasing, telling her she wouldn’t need them.
The teasing. The light touches. The knowledge that Maya would hold her and chase away all the bad with those perfect, strong arms.
Carina brushed her nose with the back of her hand and once more, let herself feel the hurt. She stood in the doorway of the bathroom, staring at the bed, not quite ready to face the emptiness again. Not quite ready to wake up clutching a pillow, her subconscious always reaching for the body that was not there.
She had barely taken two steps when there was a loud knock on the door. Carina frowned – she hadn’t asked for extra towels or ordered anything from room service. It was late and she had spent the better part of an hour crying, but it would be easier to tell the person to go away than ignore it.
Clearing her throat, she approached the door quickly, leaning forward to check the peephole. It wasn’t a maid or a concierge or anyone associated with the hotel on the other side.
It was Maya Bishop. Dressed in that tight blue t-shirt and those perfect uniform trousers and nervously playing with her wedding ring.
Carina opened the door, startling Maya in the process, her eyes widening as Carina appeared.
“Maya?” Carina asked, confused by the nervous presence in front of her.
Maya’s forced grin almost made her laugh.
“Hey…hi,” she said, thrusting her hands outwards, “sorry if this is…I know you said slow, but then…I can leave…”
Carina’s chest flooded with relief. Not fear. Not trepidation. She leaned into the feeling, for once refusing to think of what was smart or what was right. She’d had a bad day, she was hurting, and that gravitational pull was undeniable.
“No,” she said, “it’s okay, you can come in.”
Maya’s hopeful smile was frustratingly cute. She walked by Carina, waiting in the middle of the room as Carina closed the door and returned to the bed.
“Are you still on shift?” Carina asked, looking at Maya’s uniform.
Maya shrugged, her hands in her pocket. “Technically. But there was only thirty minutes left and Ruiz said it was fine.”
“How’s that going?”
The normalcy of their conversation was like a balm. Carina pat the spot beside her, eager to have Maya closer even though it scared her a little too.
“It’s…complicated,” Maya said, sitting down. “But the first week is always the hardest.”
Carina waited for Maya’s frustration to bubble up. It didn’t.
“Maya,” Carina sighed, “you can’t keep leaving your shift for me. You’re going to get in trouble.”
“I don’t care.”
“Maya…”
“I want to be here. If it’s okay with you, I want to be here.”
Her voice was so gentle, but Carina was still concerned. She didn’t want grand gestures. She didn’t want Maya flying to her rescue in some great show of her undying love. She wanted to put the pieces back together. Those small, sacred pieces that had slowly chipped and fractured. Grand gestures were not a permanent fix. They were a distraction. Unsustainable. A temporary fantasy to mask the ugly parts underneath.
Except Carina had to admit that maybe her own fear was blinding her to what was actually happening. Maya wasn’t standing outside the window with a boombox over her head. She was doing what Carina had wanted her to do for months. Maybe even for years. She was making her feel seen, she was making her feel like she mattered.
It wasn’t a performance, it wasn’t part of her checklist.
Carina was really starting to believe that.
She released the tension in her body, her shoulders slumping as she exhaled.
“Sometimes the babies are hard,” she confessed, though she knew her words made no sense.
Maya furrowed her brow. It took all of Carina’s willpower not to reach over and the smooth the hair that had come loose from her ponytail.
“Like…complications?” Maya asked, spinning her wedding ring. Carina wondered if Maya was trying to refrain from reaching out too.
The conversation was not first date material. The conversation was so painful, that Carina was scared to utter the words because she could feel the burn in her chest, the acid swirling in her stomach. But who else could possibly understand what she was going through? Who else but Maya?
Not that she was certain Maya would understand.
“I love my job,” Carina said, “and I love bringing babies into this world. But…it is hard to see the thing you want most over and over again, when you cannot have it yourself.”
Those fidgeting hands stopped fidgeting. Maya gently set her palm on Carina’s knee, but it somehow felt like a hug. It somehow felt like all that was keeping her from breaking apart.
“Something happened at that clinic last week,” Carina continued, “I think it shook me up and now…maybe I’m too sensitive. Non lo so.”
“The fake one? Ben said things got a bit dicey for a moment there.” Maya’s voice was calm, but Carina could hear the tremor. They hadn’t discussed the clinic beyond a few texts that were more about finding a time for their date than Carina’s undercover operation. Carina had briefly mentioned the small protest outside, how happy she had been to see Dana and Peggy, but the details? It was easier to stay closed off from Maya. Easier to hold herself at arm’s length.
At least it had been.
“They work entirely on emotional manipulation,” Carina explained, still angry, “and they can’t provide any actual medical information or else they’ll be fined, which means they won’t read you the results of your own pregnancy test.”
Maya nodded, her focus so intense that Carina felt like the only person in the world.
“Did Ben tell you we used fake pee?” Carina laughed, especially when Maya raised her eyebrows in surprise.
“Fake pee? Like synthetic pee?’
“No, like Bailey convinced someone in radiology to give her a urine sample from a pregnant person and we used it at the clinic.”
“Seriously?” Maya looked shocked. Shocked and amused, that toothy grin sending Carina’s heart aflutter.
Carina nodded. “We were trying to make the fake doctor give us test results. Because then we could have the clinic shut down. But it didn’t work, she made me check the test myself.”
Her laughter faded, as did Maya’s smile.
“I knew it would be positive,” Carina sniffled, unable to hold back her tears, “but…it was hard. My first positive pregnancy test and it wasn’t real. And then today…”
Eight healthy babies. Each one a joy. Each one handed to weeping, happy parents, who thanked her and held each other, and marvelled at the squishy, screaming new life that Carina placed into their arms before walking away alone. She was usually better able to compartmentalize, but eight babies…
The emptiness of her future was an aching wound. She could no longer allow herself to imagine the little family that she so desperately wanted. Maya was beside her, healthy, and they were going to try and work and rebuild. Trying was not a guarantee of success, however, a truth that seemed to permeate every facet of her life, robbing her of her dreams. And even if she and Maya made it, even if they survived, it didn’t change the fact that she couldn’t conceive. That for some reason, her body was not doing what it was designed to do.
Carina understood that it wasn’t her fault, she knew thanks to careful testing that there was still every chance that she could conceive a baby, it just felt impossible and that feeling had leeched its way in, turning all the corners of her imagination dull and grey.
Maya’s thumb brushed her kneecap and Carina realized how awkward this must be. They’d barely talked since Maya’s release from the hospital and now Carina had dumped a whole pile of baby trauma onto their almost non-existent foundation.
It was a good metaphor, Carina could understand why Maya used it. She just hoped she hadn’t caused more damage. Another crack. How much more damage before there was nothing left to salvage?
As if reading her mind, Maya exhaled before speaking.
“I know you said slow,” she said, “but is it okay if I say something that’s the opposite of slow?”
Carina nodded, curious.
“You’re going to be a mom, Carina,” Maya smiled, ducking her head to meet Carina’s gaze.
The words felt like a slap. Every instinct made Carina want to deny them, as if denying them would make it easier to accept the truth. That Maya was wrong. That she wouldn’t be a mother.
“I can’t predict the science, but there are still so many options we…you…you haven’t tried yet,” Maya released a nervous laugh, humourless, and the hand on Carina’s knee disappeared as she took to spinning her ring again.
Maya turned her face away, staring straight ahead, and Carina felt like they’d entered some very dangerous territory. Because her inability to imagine the future she wanted was inherently linked to the woman sitting so close.
When Maya disappeared, she took their baby with her.
“Maybe it’s not my place to say anymore,” Maya said, almost in a whisper, “and we’re not ready for this discussion. I know that. But I also know that you are going to be a mom. An amazing mom. And I just…I hope…”
This time Carina didn’t hesitate to touch Maya. She took one of those nervous hands and held it tightly in her own. Maya stared down at their linked fingers and squeezed.
“What do you hope?” Carina asked gently.
Maya visibly swallowed. “I hope I get to be a part of it too.”
Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. Maya in scrubs, Maya standing beside her, Maya holding the smallest blue bundle, counting over and over again. Ten tiny fingers and ten tiny toes. Maya whispering “I’ll get it” in the middle of the night as cries woke them both. Maya standing, a toddler on her shoulders, strong hands around his ankles, keeping him safe. Maya counting. Ten tiny fingers. Ten tiny toes.
“Will you stay the night again?” Carina hadn’t planned to ask the question, but it rose within her, as if keeping Maya close kept their possible future close too.
Maya nodded, the surprise on her face causing the smallest pang.
Carina had spent weeks sleeping alone in a hotel room.
But Maya had spent weeks sleeping alone too.
Without a word, they both stood, Carina circling to her side of the bed, as Maya did the same. Carina crawled under the covers while Maya lay on top of the blankets and they faced each other, on their sides, staring in the low lamp light.
Their date was the next day, but the nervous anticipation had been replaced with something Carina couldn’t quite identify. Her silly crush had blossomed into more. There was another layer in place, there was movement, as if she’d climbed up a rung without realizing that’s she’d ever stepped onto the ladder.
A fissure repaired. A crack fortified with wood and stone and steel.
Maya’s hand lay between them on the bed and Carina took it, her thumb brushing Maya’s wedding ring, as Maya looked on in silence.
“You’ll still pick me up at 8 tomorrow?” Carina asked, watching Maya relax, her troubled expression clearing.
“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she said, and Carina knew without a doubt that she meant it.
Somewhere in the room, Carina’s phone lay forgotten, set to silent and ignored.
“Goodnight, Carina,” Maya whispered, the words laced with hope and love and comfort.
Carina closed her eyes, her lips lifting as she did.
Ten tiny fingers. And ten tiny toes.
Still beyond her reach. But visible once more.