Chapter 19
Niko
“Don’t be nervous,” I tell Bianca as we sit in her brother’s living room.
She wipes her hands over her pants but throws me an exasperated look. “You’re the one who looks like you’re about to vomit.”
“I know,” I agree, perching my phone against a candle that’s set in the center of the coffee table.
Thank God Luca and Carla are both traveling with their respective teams. The last thing I’d want is an audience for the conversation Bianca and I are about to have with my parents.
“I need you to understand that just because we’re calling my parents, the number of relatives who will know our news and feel entitled to weighing in on our situation with their strong opinions and incorrect medical advice is endless. ”
Bianca laughs. “It’s going to be fine.”
“Okay,” I breathe out, pressing the video button.
The call connects and I sit next to Bianca on the couch, taking her hand and loosely holding her fingers.
“Niko!” Mama answers, beaming at me. Then, she sucks in a breath, her hand flying to her hair. “And a woman. Oh! Niko, I don’t have my lipstick on.”
“It’s fine, Ma,” I assure her. “You look fi—er, lovely,” I amend as Bianca elbows me in the ribs. “This is Bianca.”
“Hello, Bianca.” Mama waves. “It’s nice to meet you. How are you? Where are you from?” The interrogation begins.
“Is that Niko?” Baba hollers from the background. “Why are you putting on lipstick?”
Mama doesn’t reply as she swipes on a bright coat of pink. “He has a woman with him,” she whisper-hisses.
“Hi, Bianca!” Dimi calls from the background.
“You know her?” Now, Mama sounds accusatory.
“Who?” Baba asks, still clueless.
I sigh and glance at Bianca. Her eyes are wide, but they dance with amusement. “Oh, this is gonna be good,” she mutters.
“I’m glad you see it that way.” I bump my shoulder against hers.
“What’s happening?” Baba asks, taking the phone from Mama. A second later, his face comes into view. “Niko! How was practice? Are you leaving for Frankfurt today or tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow. I’m in Spain,” I reply calmly.
“Spain! Why the hell are you there? Oh, hello,” Baba says, as if just realizing that Bianca is in the frame. His eyes fly to mine. “Why are you in Spain?”
“This is Bianca,” I introduce her.
“Hi!” Bianca waves.
Baba dips his head in greeting.
I try not to roll my eyes. “We have something to tell you. Could you take a seat? Get Mama back?”
“Wait! The popcorn is almost done!” Dimi calls out.
Bianca giggles.
“Why?” Baba asks warily.
“The sooner you get Mama, the sooner I can tell you,” I say, exasperated.
“Oh! Thea and George just arrived,” Mama announces.
“Please, come in. Take off your coats. You want to stay for this,” Dimi’s voice rings out again.
“My aunt and uncle,” I explain to Bianca.
“Wow,” she breathes, shaking her head. “You weren’t kidding.”
“Kidding about what?” Baba presses.
“Come in, come in.” Mama’s voice this time. “Do you want a coffee? Some tea?”
“Can you please come back on screen?” I holler to my mother.
“One moment, Niko. Dimi, popcorn? Now? We just finished lunch.” Mama’s voice floats through the connection, paired with Baba’s bewildered expression.
“Dimitri!” I yell.
My brother laughs, rips the phone from Baba, and comes on screen. “Hi, Bianca.” He grins. “It’s great to meet you.”
“Hi, Dimi,” she replies, a sincere smile touching her lips. “Likewise.
“You ready to shake things up?”
“I’m eager,” Bianca plays along, rolling up the sleeves of her sweater.
Dimi chuckles. “Do you gamble?”
“What’s the bet?” Bianca replies, hunching forward, her elbows landing on her knees.
Jesus.
“My mom cries,” Dimi tosses out.
“Too easy. She looks like a crier.” Bianca correctly sizes Mama up.
“My mom faints.” Dimi tries again.
“Dimitri,” I growl.
He snickers. “Fine, no bets. I’ll gather the children,” he says, winking.
Bianca glances at me, her expression filled with mirth. “I can’t believe you’ve been keeping these people from me.”
“You should be thanking me.”
“All right, ye heathens. Gather ‘round,” Dimi hollers.
“Heathens! For heaven’s sake, Dimitri, what will Bianca think?” Mama wails.
“Bianca? Who’s Bianca?” Aunt Thea inquires. “Oh, Alexandria is calling you, Dimitri.”
Dimi answers his cell phone. “Alex, hey. I’m putting you on speaker. No, not yet. Just listen. Don’t talk.” He places his phone on the kitchen counter. “Niko has news,” Dimi announces, ushering our family members into one corner of the kitchen.
“News? Is he getting married? Did he propose? Oh, do you think he’ll come back to Chicago? Or maybe Greece?” Aunt Thea exclaims excitedly.
“Do you have the creamer I like?” Uncle George asks.
“Of course.” Mama sounds affronted.
“Why is Niko in Spain?” Baba asks no one.
“You stand here,” Dimi says. The camera pans the room and I note that he’s guiding Aunt Thea to stand beside Mama. “And you’re here,” he tells Uncle George. “Baba, don’t move.” Then, Dimi repositions the camera and my family comes into view. “Quickly, Niko. This is your window.”
I suck in a breath, reach for Bianca’s hand, and blurt out the news. “Bianca and I are having a baby.”
Shocked expressions, wide eyes, and gaping mouths stare back at us, frozen in surprise.
“Opa!” my brother yells, throwing something on the floor that definitely isn’t a plate because my mother would castrate him.
“Dimitri!” Mama hollers.
“Relax, it’s a plastic cup.” Dimi rolls his eyes.
Bianca clenches my hand.
“The baby’s due date is April 19,” I add.
“Congratulations,” Uncle George states, lifting his coffee mug in our direction.
“Thanks, Uncle George,” Bianca says, breaking the ice.
Her voice seems to shatter the silence and everyone in my family starts talking at once, growing louder with each question to be heard.
“How did you meet?”
“How do you feel?”
“Did you see a doctor?”
“When did this happen?”
“Do you live in Stuttgart, Bianca?”
“Oh, that’s why he’s in Spain!” Baba has a lightbulb moment.
“Start at the beginning, Niko.” Aunt Thea’s face fills the screen. She’s munching on popcorn. “And don’t leave anything out.”
“Well, you can leave some things out,” Dimi advises.
Mama appears next to Aunt Thea, shoving her over. “Tell me. Now.”
I pull in a breath and, with Bianca by my side for support, we tell my family everything.
“Your dad seemed upset,” Bianca admits that night at dinner.
We ordered takeout and are eating at Luca and Carla’s kitchen island before I fly out.
“It’s going to take him a minute to process,” I admit. “Mama’s thrilled.”
Bianca snorts. “That’s because your aunt made the entire situation sound like a shopping spree.”
I shrug. “It worked.”
“It did.” Bianca pushes salad around her plate.
“What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head. “It’s starting to feel…real.”
“It is real.”
Bianca glances at me. “Are you nervous?”
I nod slowly. “I don’t know what to expect. How to prepare for anything. I just keep…trying to be present.”
“You’re doing a good job.”
“Thanks,” I sigh. “I never thought I’d become a dad at twenty-five.”
“I keep forgetting you’re only twenty-five.” She wrinkles her nose.
“I’m an old soul.”
“No, you’re not. I’m an old lady.”
“A MILF.”
Bianca laughs, which is the reaction I was going for. She reaches out to shove me and I grip her fingers, tugging her a little closer as I admit, “I can do this with you, Bianca. I know you’re going to be a great mom. I know our baby is lucky. And I know that, together, we can figure this out.”
Her expression softens. “How can you be so sure? I’m questioning everything…all the time.”
“That,” I admit, nodding. “The fact that you’re questioning yourself is because you care.
You’re doing all the right things. You knew you needed support and a slower pace of life so you left the city and career you love to move to Valencia.
I know this isn’t ideal, but I want us to make the best of the situation.
I’ll do whatever I can to support you. I just… need you to communicate with me.”
“Okay,” she agrees, nodding.
“We keep in touch and put the baby first.”
“Absolutely.” Her eyes narrow slightly as she presses her lips together.
“Your words and your expression don’t match.” I release her hand to poke her chin playfully. “What is it?”
“What about…dating?” she asks hesitantly.
My chest pinches and I rub at the pang. “Dating,” I repeat, as if testing the word out. “I mean, I won’t hold you back… Have you met someone?”
Her mouth drops open before she sputters out a laugh. “No, oh God, no.” She shakes her head. “Who the hell would date me when I’m…like this?” She gestures to her still-flat stomach.
Me. The thought zips through my mind like lightning but I don’t voice it. I can’t. Not when she…what? “Then what are you asking?”
“I’m talking about you.” She points at me. “If you—”
“I’m not.”
Bianca rolls her eyes. “You’re going to meet someone, Niko. The tabloids speculated that you were dating Ellie. It’s only a matter of time before you find someone…for real.”
“Ellie’s my best friend. She’s my family.”
“I know.” Bianca’s tone holds an edge of tension, but I don’t pluck at it.
“And I’m not interested in finding someone. I’m focused on my career and on you, our baby.”
“For now.”
I shake my head. “For always.”
“Whatever. We don’t have to hash this out now if neither of us is…actively seeking out a partner.”
“I’m not,” I confirm.
“Me neither. So, we just take things day by day and…”
“I’ll be back for the next ultrasound,” I remind her. “We’ll reevaluate then. For now, you focus on taking care of yourself and settling into your new place. And I’ll focus on my game.”
“Okay.”
“Okay,” I repeat, taking a swig of my water.
When I board the plane back to Germany that evening, with an ultrasound photo tucked into my wallet, I feel the tiniest bit better. Like maybe I can do this.
Maybe I already am.
When I enter my lonely apartment in Stuttgart, I place the grainy ultrasound photo of my baby—my baby—on my nightstand next to the rosary beads Aunt Thea pressed into my palm the week before I moved here.
Every morning and night for the next seven weeks, I vow to look at the photo and remember why I’m grinding. Hearing the baby’s heartbeat changed something in my mental makeup. It snapped something intrinsic into place inside of me.
My baby is bigger than everything else in my world. More important than soccer, than career milestones, than ego. My baby is the motivation I need to be worthy of becoming something greater than a professional soccer player. Now, I’m becoming a dad.