It’s not funny, but I guess if that’s how she’s processing who am I to deny her the joke? “I feel like I should have known. Should have felt that something was wrong when he never got in contact with me.”
“Eva took over his personal inbox, but everything SEAL related stayed secure.” Celia states.
I nod. “You guys have hated me all this time.”
She shrugs. “Nothing was what it seems, so it doesn’t matter. Eva is on her way here. We have a room next door, and Mom and Dad are in the room next to ours. We might as well pull the plug tomorrow morning instead of Monday while we’re all here.”
Her no-nonsense talk about the act is jarring and comforting at the same time. They’ve come to terms with this already whereas I’m just starting to understand what will happen. If anyone has fought for Leif, I know his sisters will have put up the best fight in his honor. “If that’s what you want,” I agree. “It’s so much all at once for me.”
She picks up Luna and kisses her belly. “Why the name Luna?” she asks, sliding her gaze to mine.
“Stars,” I say, twisting my ring. “The sky.”
She nods like she understands. “He told us about the ring. I wanted to make sure. I love her name. It’s perfect.” How much did he tell them?
“Thanks,” I say. Eva barges in as we have the door propped open for her impending arrival.
“I cannot believe this,” she shouts, but then puts a hand over her mouth when she sees Luna wince at the loud screech. “Malena, how could you keep her from us?” she seethes out through clenched teeth.
“I had to keep her from him,” I say. It’s the only explanation I need. “To give him a life.”
“Meanwhile, in actuality, he’s been fighting for his life. You should have called us sooner. My God, I’ve missed so much already,” Eva cries, rounding the bed to look at Luna. With a hand on her mouth her eyes water, the same reaction Celia had. “She is his spitting image. Leif looked identical to her as a baby, well, except your features have softened her a bit, made her pretty,” Eva amends. “Let me hold her.”
Celia delicately places Luna in Eva’s arms and it happens again. Someone else falls in love with my baby. With our baby. “She is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. Did you bring her to see Leif?” Eva asks, and with one phrase I can tell who has done the fighting over these months. Eva. “I bet he loved it,” she adds.
Celia looks away, uneasy with her sister’s words. “I did,” I say. The long story was given and accepted by Eva before she came here, but I wasn’t sure how she’d react to actually seeing me after all this time. She’s always been the more…complicated sister. “I set her in his arms. He was clutching my hand,” I tell her.
Eva’s widening gaze flicks to mind. “He grabbed your hand, didn’t he?” She’s desperate for someone to be on her side. It’s easy to sense. “Moved his fingers?”
“A muscle spasm grabbed your hand, not Leif. Don’t do this to Malena, too, Eva. This is ending now. We’ve done all we can do. All you’ll do is make this harder on everyone else. Especially Mamma. We’re going to do it tomorrow morning while we’re all together. Go speak your peace tonight, okay? We just came from the hospital. Our room is next door.” Celia takes on an authoritarian voice, one she’s had to adapt, I imagine. “Do you understand?”
“I’m about to put the baby to bed,” I say. “We can hang out when you get back.”
“Great idea, Malena,” Celia says.
“She’s so precious,” Eva says, smiling at the baby. “You’re so lucky, Malena. She’s perfect.”
“She is lucky to have you as an aunt,” I reply, trying to bring the mood up. Eva recoils, and I’m reminded of her infertility. “Thank you,” I say instead. “She really is beautiful.” I don’t feel guilty because she does look so much like Leif.
Shaking her head, she hands Luna back to Celia who is reaching for her. “I can’t believe I’m going to say goodbye to my brother.”
“Not your brother,” Celia reminds her. “His body. His mind has been gone for nine months.” I think she’s trying to make her feel better, saying goodbye easier, but it’s making it worse. It’s calling her a liar. Eva starts crying and bids us goodbye.
“I’m sorry you had to hear that. It’s hard for Eva. I have to be the voice of reason,” Celia says, hanging her head guiltily. “I was right there, thinking the best for the first few months. It’s been nine. There’s no hope, you see? It’s futile and she needs to grasp that.”
I nod and take the baby from her to nurse her to sleep. She drifts easily, lashes fanning across her cheek, looking just like her daddy. “I just wish he got to see her,” I say aloud.
“Regardless of what he said about wanting kids, that man wanted to be a father. I know it. He would have loved this life with you, Malena. Don’t think any different, okay? Let him go knowing he was a good man.”
“I know he is a good man. That’s the hardest part,” I reply, setting Luna into the pack and play in the corner. She coos and turns her head to the side drifting into deep sleep. Watching her, I pray for another miracle, for things to be different.
His mom and dad stop by the room to say hello and see the baby. I think she is the only shining spot in their otherwise bleak lives. A gift Leif gave me that I can share with them. We hug and cry and talk softly. Celia’s phone rings a little past midnight. It’s Eva.
She’s hysterical, a complete and utter disaster. No one can make out what she’s repeating over and over.
“I’ll watch over the baby, Malena. Please go and talk to her,” Celia says, ending the call. “I’ve said it all before, maybe you can say something I haven’t. This is over. It’s over.” Placing her face in her hands, she shakes her head.
I’m exhausted, but Celia is right and I owe Eva this much. I owe them all. When I get into my rental car, I dial Eva back to tell her I’m coming.
She’s still crying—a hysterical squeal, but I hear a hint of laughter as she says. “He’s breathing. On his own, he’s breathing!” I don’t even respond. Tossing the phone into the passenger seat, I race the mile to the hospital, forgetting how I even got there in the first place.
He’s breathing.