Chapter 26
Bianca
“Good morning. How are my girls today?” Niko asks three weeks later as we FaceTime. He’s in the stadium, about to board a bus for a game. I wish I could attend in person, cheer him on with the thousands of Stuttgart fans, instead of watching on my television.
“We’re doing great,” I admit. “I wish we were there, with you, though.”
Emotion crosses his expression as he tilts his head. “You have no idea how badly I wish the same, Honeybee. I’m working on it.”
I shake my head. “There’s nothing to work on, Niko. This is your career, your dream, and I’ll always support you.”
“Bianca.”
I sigh. “I don’t want you to feel guilty that you’re not here.”
“And I don’t want you to feel stressed that you’re navigating everything solo.”
I nod, knowing that my stress compounds. And how can it not when I envision a future of doing ninety percent of the parenting by myself?
“I miss you,” Niko adds. “Too much. Did you eat breakfast yet? Are you getting enough protein? Water?”
I snort. My man has turned into a doting mother hen. “I’m fine. Yes, I drank two glasses and had eggs with my tostada tomate.”
“Good.” He nods resolutely. “You need to make sure you’re getting enough fiber for—”
“Jesus, Karas, let the woman live,” his friend and teammate, Stavros, butts in, grabbing the phone to grin at me. “How are you feeling, B?”
“I’m feeling good.” I smile back. “A lot more energy now that I’m in the second trimester.”
“Well, you’re glowing! They say a girl steals your beauty but not in your case. You look—”
“Give me that.” Niko swipes the phone back. “Give me a minute.”
I hear Stavros’s laughter as he walks away. Niko comes back into view. “I’ll call you after the game?”
“We’ll be watching.” I blow him a kiss. “For luck.”
“I don’t need luck when I have you, Honeybee.”
I roll my eyes at how corny he is, but deep down, I love it.
I need it. Niko makes me feel cherished in a way that Christian never did.
He makes me laugh and gives me the reassurances I need that this is real, that we’re forever, and that we can tackle whatever comes our way, even when the worrying overwhelms me.
“Wow, B, you look amazing,” Marlowe gushes as she kisses my cheeks.
“Thank you!” I hug her closer. “I’m so happy to see you.”
Marlowe was in Rhode Island for the past month.
Her father passed away and she went home to help with burial preparations and to say her final goodbye.
I think bringing Antonio and having him spend time with her grandfather and her Sewing Circle of friends provided a slice of comfort that she needed as she grieved her father’s passing.
“How are you? Really?” I ask as I pull away slightly.
Tears gather in Marlowe’s eyes and she blinks rapidly. “I’m okay.” She offers a shaky smile. “Good days and bad. It comes in waves.”
“Yes. I understand.” I pull her in for another hug. “It doesn’t get easier. Just more manageable.”
She hugs me tight for a long beat and I feel her body relax. “Thank you for checking in on me so much.”
“Always.”
She steps out of my embrace and wipes her fingers across her eyes. “Well,” she says, forcing a smile, “we have important things to focus on.” At my blank expression she sighs, “That baby’s nursery.”
“Oh!” I laugh. “Mar, you don’t—”
“Please, B,” she whispers. “I need a project. I need this.”
And I see in her eyes that she means it. She’s searching for a distraction, for something fun and happy to turn her attention to during this phase of her life. And I couldn’t wish for a better person to help me prepare for my baby girl’s arrival.
“You’ll tell me if it gets to be too much?” I press.
She rolls her eyes. “Design and decorating can never be too much.”
I grin. “I have no idea how you find the time to do all these things.”
“I like keeping busy,” she says, nudging me. “When do we begin?”
“You already have wallpaper books and paint samples, don’t you?”
“Of course!” She links her arm with mine and relocates us to her kitchen. “Let’s get started while Antonio is asleep and Ale is at the stadium.”
Chuckling, I nod in agreement. I sit down beside my friend as she flips open various sample books.
“Start looking while I make tea,” she instructs.
I pull one of the books closer to me, gliding my palm over the various wallpapers.
A bubble of gratitude rises within me. I can’t believe I’m going to have a sweet baby girl.
I love that this time, I can lean into these exciting moments like decorating a nursery with one of my best friends and holding the phone to my belly so Niko can wish our baby girl good night.
I love the tenderness that rounds out my days as I wait for my girl to arrive.
As I settle in Marlowe’s kitchen and flip through the sample books, I know that I’m lucky.
I may not have my mom by my side but there’s no doubt in my mind that she’s watching over me.
And I’ve formed my own family, with Luca and his found fútbol family, with Niko and his welcoming Greek relatives.
My daughter is going to have the big, nosy, loving family I always wanted to belong to. And now, I finally do.
“I’m missing my girls extra today.” I smile as I listen to Niko’s voice note. “I’m grateful for you, Bianca, and our baby. I wish I was with you today. Happy Thanksgiving, honey.”
“Jesus.” Abuela fans herself.
Carla laughs and polishes off her wine. “This is what I miss about America. There’s a celebration for everything.”
“What?” Marlowe gasps, her eyes widening. “There’s a festival here almost every month.”
“That’s true,” Carla cedes the point.
“I still don’t understand Thanksgiving with the turkey, but I like the idea of celebrating gratitude,” Abuela admits.
“Well, I’m happy to host you all this Thanksgiving,” Marlowe says as she folds her hand on top of the bistro table we’re huddled around. She manages a smile, but her eyes flood with tears. “This was my dad’s favorite holiday.”
Abuela reaches over and grips her hand. “Then I’m even more honored to celebrate with you today,” she says, her face lined with understanding and love for Marlowe.
I nod. “Although, Mar, it was bold of you to put Ale in charge of both the turkey and the baby.”
Marlowe laughs as she wipes tears from her eyes. “Andrés is probably watching Antonio.” Her eyes flip to me. “How are things between you and Andrés anyway? Those gossip blogs were relentless for a while.”
“Yeah,” I laugh in agreement. For the week following my twenty-week scan, Andrés, Niko, and I were ripped apart on social media. “We’re good. We talked and…well, it was Andrés who helped me secure clearance to watch Niko’s game from the sidelines.”
“That was big of him,” Carla says.
“That’s what Niko said,” I admit.
“Bianca, carino, you can’t help that multiple men are in love with you. They are good boys, both of them. Of course they want to be with you. Look at the woman you are.” She flicks her wrist and we all laugh.
“Abuela, you’re good for our egos,” Marlowe chuckles.
Abuela winks and lifts her empty sangria glass. “Ahora, let’s have one more round before we have to go fix the turkey Alejandro probably burned.”
We order another round of drinks—sparkling water with lemon for me—and clink them together.
“Happy Thanksgiving.” Marlowe smiles.
“Happy Thanksgiving,” I murmur.
This year, I truly am thankful for exactly where I’ve landed. Surrounded by my family, having my miracle baby, and in a committed relationship with a man who truly sees me. I never would have believed this would be my life six months ago, but today, I’ve never been more grateful.
“Tell me about the turkey,” Niko says on FaceTime that evening.
“Alejandro did not screw it up,” I admit.
Niko lifts his eyebrows.
“We all thought he would; even Abuela.”
Niko chuckles. “Was there stuffing?”
“There was. And candied yams, Brussels sprouts, macaroni and cheese, corn muffins, pumpkin pie…”
Niko moans. “I miss Thanksgiving.”
“Well, maybe next year we’ll celebrate it together.”
His grin widens and he leans closer to the camera.
“What?” I snicker as I stare at the close-up of his gorgeous face.
“What if I told you we will definitely celebrate Thanksgiving together next year?”
“Even you, Greek God, can’t guarantee that.”
“True, but our odds have greatly improved.”
“How so?” I quirk an eyebrow.
Niko grins and it’s the steal-my-breath-and-make-me-smile one.
“I’m waiting,” I remind him.
“Stuttgart released me from my contract.”
“What?” I gasp, my smile falling. “Niko, you can’t just sacrifice your career.”
“I’m not.” He shakes his head. “It’s a mutual termination. Up until an hour ago, I was a free agent.”
“What happened an hour ago?” I ask, my heart rate thudding in my temples as I clutch my phone. He doesn’t look like he’s freaking out? Why isn’t he freaking out?
“League Valencia offered me a short-term agreement, set to start January 1. I’m coming home to you, Honeybee. I’m not missing the holiday season with my girls.”
“Niko,” I breathe out. “What’s a short-term agreement? What does that mean?”
“It means I have the remainder of the season to prove myself in Valencia. My contract is from January 1 to June 30. But there’s an option to extend, and Bianca, I will play my heart out. This feels different. This is for my family. I promise I’ll make it work, Bee.”
“I know you will.” Pesky tears fill my eyes. Spill over. Relief unravels in my limbs. Every fear I harbored about doing parenthood on my own eases. “You already are.”
Niko’s expression softens. “See you in five more sleeps.”
I cry, shaking my head in disbelief. “You’re really doing this for me?”
“For us, Bianca. For all of us. You, our baby girl, our family matters more to me than anything in the world. I don’t want to miss out on my own life.”
I sniffle. “Five more sleeps.”
He nods. We talk for a few more minutes before he blows me a kiss and I wish him good night.
When I end the call, I drop my head back and gaze upward to the heavens.
There’s no doubt in my mind that my mama is watching over me.
That this is the homecoming she prayed for all along.