Chapter Fifteen

Maeve

"What time is it now, Maeve?" my mother asks from the window. She's been standing there for the last twenty minutes looking out for Jenna and Marty.

I flick over another page in the magazine I'm not really reading. "Ma, it's been two minutes since you last asked. And also, you have a perfectly good watch on your wrist."

"They should have been here half an hour ago." She tuts.

"They texted to say everything was okay after the appointment." I nudge my phone to light up the screen and see no new message notifications. I don't know why I did that. Sure, I'm anxious for Marty and Jenna to get here so we can hear how the scan went in more detail, and see any photos they may have had printed, but I'm not about to start pacing the carpet like Ma is. A least, not just yet. "They probably just got stuck in traffic."

"But they didn't send a photo of the scan," Mum points out.

"Ma, everything is fine! Don't stress yourself. Or them when they get here. That's not fecking fair."

My mother finally comes away from the window. "I'll go put the kettle on and then I'll go to the loo and that will make them show up." She starts walking past me and out of the living room. "It always works, you know. Going to the toilet, whenever you're waiting on something…"

Her voice fades away and I go back to my magazine, skim-reading the articles that barely interest me. A moment later, I hear a soft snore and I'm almost surprised to see my father sitting in the armchair opposite me. I'd forgotten he was here.

"Da, you're snoring!" I say deliberately loudly.

"I'm awake, I'm awake!" he blurts out as he opens his eyes and sits up a little straighter.

"Enjoying retirement, I see," I say with a smirk.

"Ah, don't you get on my case, Maevey. Do you know how many lists of things your mother has me working through? It's like she'd saved up a full-time job's worth of odd jobs to do around the house for when I finally retired. I only have the afternoon off because youse lot are all coming over. But come the morning, I'll be put to work again."

"You could go back to your old job, for a rest?" I suggest.

He shakes his head. "It's not so bad. Your ma still works three days a week, so on those days I sneak in a bike ride and an afternoon snooze in front of the racing or the golf."

"Living the dream," I say with a snort, but a moment later, I look up and catch Da's eyes and smile.

"You think everything is okay with the baby and Jenna?" I ask him now Mum's out of the room. "It's a bit strange they're running so late."

Dad gives me one of his reassuring looks, the kind I never used to notice or value, but the older I get the more I see them and the more I appreciate them. The more I think I need them.

"They've probably had to stop for Jenna to go the Ladies. You know what her bladder's been like recently."

I nod. "Yeah, that'll be it."

My phone lights up next to me on the couch's arm rest and I grab it, immediately reading the notification. It's a message from Arabella with a photo of her in her costume for The Nutcracker. I like it and send a message back saying how smoking hot she looks.

"Was that them?" Da asks, eagerly. Looks like we're all a little keen to hear the news.

"No, it was Bella."

Dad nods and then links his hands together over his stomach and closes his eyes. I don't know why I keep my phone in my hand or why I open up TikTok and the conversation with Loncey but I do. I don't know why I read their last message to me a week ago, the one I haven't replied to.

Hey Maeve, hope you have a safe flight. I just wanted to say, talking with you was the highlight of my day. I'm looking forward to seeing you in Vegas.>

Seven days later and I still don't know how this message makes me feel. I can't say if it's good. I can't say if it's bad. But I can say that it makes me uncomfortable and I don't like uncomfortable. So I haven't replied. It's not like that's eased the discomfort, but I'm not going to think about that now.

Especially not when I hear a set of keys in the door.

Putting my phone down and getting up, I nudge Dad's arm on my way out of the living room and into the hallway that Jenna and Marty are walking into. I open my mouth, but words halt when I see two sets of red and puffy eyes.

No. Shit, no. Please don't let there be anything wrong with the baby. I clutch my stomach and feel wet heat in my own eyes. I sends Dad come up and stand behind me.

"Ah, Maeve, we're fine," Marty says. "Don't look like that. You'll set us off again."

"But really?" I ask, no, demand. "Is the baby okay? And you, Jenna?"

"I'm fine, honest," Jenna says but her voice cracks. "And the baby is fine too. Completely fine."

"Completely perfect," Marty says, and I see they're holding hands so tightly his knuckles are pale.

"Well, will we stop standing around like eejits here and come and sit down," Dad says, moving around me to usher them in. "Kitchen or living room?"

"Kitchen," Marty says decisively.

I hear the whoosh of the downstairs toilet flushing.

"Ah, that's where Ma is," my brother says. "I was expecting her at the window waiting on us."

"Oh, she was," I say.

A second later, our mother emerges from the toilet, drying her hands. "See! I told you! I said if I just went to the loo, you'd show up!"

"Come on, Ma." Marty steps forward and hooks his arm around her shoulders. "Let's go have a cuppa and a chat."

"I've filled and boiled the kettle already," Ma says and they lead the way for all of us to merge into the kitchen. As I walk next to Jenna, she finds my hand and squeezes it. There are tears in her eyes when I look at her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask.

"Perfect," she says. "Everything's perfect."

Ten minutes later, we're all sitting at the round kitchen table that has seen so many epic conversations over the years. It's where Marty sat us all down and told us he was bisexual. It's where I told Ma and Da I wasn't going to apply for university and instead wanted to pursue a career as an influencer. It's where Ma gave Marty a letter from Arnie, an act that prompted him to go to Crete and claim Jenna's heart once and for all. And it's where I sat my parents down and told them I was asexual earlier this year.

And now I have this sense that another epic conversation is about to happen as we all sit with mugs of steaming tea in front of us. Jenna is on my right, with Marty next to her and on my left is Da, and then Ma, who has barely stopped chattering away nervously since we walked in the room.

"So, we have some photos from the scan," Jenna says, and she pulls a strip of black and white images from her bag.

"But first, we want to tell you all something." Marty puts his hand over Jenna's, keeping the photos folded up under her palm.

"What? What is it? Oh, God, something's wrong, isn't it?" Ma has one hand on her chest and another stretched out flat on the table.

"Cynthia," Da soothes as I roll my eyes.

"No, honestly, no, nothing is wrong." Jenna leans towards her and I like how I hear a bit more confidence in her voice now.

"We know the gender," Marty adds.

"You do!?" Mum shouts.

"You don't have to tell us," Dad says.

"Yes, they do!" Ma swipes at him with the back of her hand.

"No, they don't," I point out, although it will pain me more than I will ever admit not to know.

"We want to tell you," Jenna says, and she looks at Marty. "We're having…"

"A girl," Marty says with a cheek-moving grin on his face, his dimples visible through his thin beard. "Well, a human with female sex parts, at least."

"A girl!" Ma claps her hands together.

"Ah, that's great," Dad says and I see moisture land in his eyes.

It takes me a moment longer to fully appreciate what this means. A niece. I will have a little baby niece. A little girl to hang out with. A little girl to talk to. A little girl to play with and help navigate the world. A little girl. The warmth returns to my eyes as I turn and see a single tear slide down Jenna's freckled cheek.

"Congratulations, Jenna," I say, and I put my hand on her forearm. "Congratulations," I say to my brother.

"That's not all," he says before Ma and Da get up to give them both hugs. "We also found out some other news about our baby girl."

Baby girl. I feel my heart swell with all the love I have to give that baby girl.

"Well, go on, don't keep up us in suspenders, son," Dad says sounding almost as agitated as Ma a moment ago. I knew he was just as invested.

"She is… she is very special. She has an extra chromosome," Marty says slowly, carefully, and again turns to look at Jenna. "Our baby girl has Down syndrome."

"Down syndrome?" Da says, confusion written all over his face.

"Oh," Ma says and her face is frozen. Not in shock. Not in sadness. Just frozen.

Again, it seems my reaction only comes after I've seen them react and it all hits me in a rush. Yes, there's shock. Yes, there's an element of sadness, of grief for what I thought was true and now isn't. But more than that, there's more swelling, more love, more fierce, fierce love expanding my heart.

Taking my hand off Jenna's arm, I stand up and turn to her. Jenna looks up at me and she seems utterly puzzled by what I'm doing.

"What happy, happy news," I say to Jenna. "I can't wait to meet her."

Jenna stands just as I wrap my arms around her and hold her tight to my body. The warm hard swell of her stomach presses against me and I think about the baby in there, the one I can't wait to hold and play with and talk to and introduce to the world.

"Yes," Mum says behind me and I hear her chair scrape across the tiled floor. "This is very happy news."

I open my eyes and see her in Marty's arms, her hand stroking his back like she always does when she gives us hugs.

Just as I'm disentangling myself from Jenna, I see my Dad step into my place, giving her a big hug.

"You're going to be such a wonderful mother, Jenna. Never ever doubt that," he says into her hair. "This little girl is so lucky to have you. Both of you."

"We're lucky to have her," I say as I move around them and join my mother and Marty in an embrace.

"Yes," Marty says into the top of my head. "So fucken lucky."

And somehow – I don't really know how it happens – but a moment later, we're all locked in one single embrace, like a strange team hug, with our arms around each other's backs and a few tears slipping to the floor, but more smiles. So many more smiles.