I'll Be Your Somebody (3 page)

Rosita tilted her head to the side and stared at him.  “Are you serious?”

He nodded, smiling slowly at her.  “And for the record, you’re the first woman I’ve considered asking to be my wife.”

“Am I the first woman you’ve gotten pregnant?” Rosita said, going for the acerbic instead of the affectionate.

Ulrich frowned at her, then arched an eyebrow and leaned against the couch, cool as you please.  “Yes.”

Well, all the wind was knocked right out of her sails at that.  She stumbled back and plopped down on the ottoman of the easy chair behind her, Ulrich shooting forward and holding out his arms to her.

“Careful!  That’s my baby you’re carryin’, woman!”

Rosita dropped her face so he couldn’t see her automatic grin and she touched her stomach.  Her grin then faded away as she realized what a hypocrite she was.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been pregnant, Ulrich.”

She said it quietly so her mother wouldn’t overhear although Milagros already knew about it.  Rosita had closed her eyes, so she started when she suddenly felt hands on her thighs and the cool press of lips on her forehead.

“You miscarried,” he guessed.

She met his eyes.  “How—?”

“Besides the fact you were raised Catholic?” he asked, shrugging.  “You would’ve found a way to raise that baby.”

She nodded and let him hug her.  She buried her face in his shoulder, taking the comfort he offered her.  She
would’ve
found away to raise her child, even after its punk-ass father left, screaming it wasn’t his despite the fact
he’d
been the one to take her virginity and
he’d
been the only dick she’d ever fucked up until that point.

Her mother was right.  This
was
different.  Ulrich had claimed the baby immediately, as if the very thought it could be someone else’s child never entered his mind, even though they weren’t exclusive or even a couple.  He’d offered to marry her, although as much as her heart fluttered at the prospect, she wouldn’t hold him to it.

“Ulrich! 
Hola, chico,
how are you?”

Milagros came out of the kitchen and placed the cooled and now frosted cake on the coffee table.  Ulrich stood and hugged Milagros warmly.

“
Hola
, Mrs. Velez,” he said, kissing her cheek as they broke apart.  “How are you?”

“
Bien
,” she murmured.  Milagros’s eyes sparkled as she looked between Ulrich and Rosita.  “Did she tell you?”

Ulrich nodded and hunkered down in front of Rosita once more.  “She did.  I’m glad she did.”

“And how do you feel?” Milagros asked.

“Jittery,” Ulrich said, taking Rosita’s hands in his.

Milagros smiled widely.  “¡
Muy bueno
!
 
¡
Él será un buen esposo por ti, chica
!”

Smirking slightly, Ulrich brought the backs of Rosita’s hands to his lips.  “
Estoy de acuerdo
.”

She sniffed and looked away from her mother and her child’s father, unwilling to give them the satisfaction of letting them know she thought he’d make a good husband as well.

The Capshaw household was still full of lovely smells that made Rosita’s stomach turn.  They’d just finished Thanksgiving dinner. The women were inside the kitchen and having a great time gossiping while the men were watching a football game that had them shouting and cussing every four seconds.

Rosita was in Kerry’s room holding the eighteen-month-old to her heart as he slept.  She’d offered to change the toddler while Bevin and the others cleared the table, but the little boy had beguiled her so sweetly with his smile as she did so that she’d started cooing and playing with him, enjoying his innocent laughter.  She’d begun singing a Cuban lullaby her mother had sung to her, and Kerry had drifted to sleep. And while she probably should’ve put him in his crib, she hadn’t.  She was too comfortable, and he was too heavy for her to stand without assistance, especially since she was now in her sixth month.  Her center of gravity was all out of whack, and she became winded taking more than five steps, it seemed.

Kerry nuzzled his cheek against her collarbone briefly before settling back down.  Rosita smiled and closed her eyes, rubbing his back with gentle circles as she allowed this brief peace to infuse her soul.

“Hey…”

Rosita opened her eyes and swallowed as the woman, only a shade lighter than her own mother but maybe fifty pounds heavier, entered the room.  Her relaxed hair was pulled back with a headband and her square “granny” glasses looked stylish on her square face.  She sat in the other rocking chair in the room, staring at the baby with a small smile.

“Practicing?” she asked.

Rosita nodded.  “Yes, ma’am.”

The woman frowned and waved away the greeting.  “Oh, child, don’t call me that.  Call me Evelyn…or Mom…”

Rosita smiled patiently.  “Miss Evelyn.”

Evelyn gave a slight pout.  “You’ll call me Mom eventually.”

Rosita merely nodded, not giving the woman any more ammunition than she already had.

Evelyn reached out and smoothed a hand over Kerry’s soft head.  “He’s a beautiful baby.”

“He is.  He looks like both his parents.”

Evelyn smiled.  “I hope your baby looks like you.”

Rosita laughed softly, careful not to wake up Kerry.  “Your son isn’t all that bad to look at!”

Evelyn chuckled as well.  “I know that; he’s a gorgeous man, my son!”  She shook her head and sighed.  “What I mean, is I hope you have a daughter.”

Rosita grinned.  It seemed all the women in her life wanted her to have a little girl.  She’d expressly asked the obstetrician not to tell her the sex of the baby.  She wanted it to be a surprise.  Ulrich, however, was getting antsier by the second, but he’d just have to live like that for a few more months.

“Rosita, why aren’t you and Ulrich married?”

Rosita shrugged and shook her head, unwilling to go there with Ulrich’s mother.  Hell, she hadn’t even told her own mother why—she hadn’t even told
Bevin
.  She could only handle a few things on her plate at a time; and right now, this baby she carried took up the whole plate.

There was also a matter that maybe Ulrich hadn’t confessed to Miss Evelyn.

“He hasn’t asked me.”

Evelyn’s eyes widened in surprise.  “He hasn’t?”

“No, ma’am.  He’s said he wants to, but he’s never asked.”

Evelyn nodded slowly and stood.  “Oh, well, then, that just changes the entire story, don’t it?”

Rosita raised her eyebrows.  “Ma’am?”

“Humph,” Evelyn said, wagging her finger at Rosita.  “Changes the entire story, indeed!”

“He left out some key details, didn’t he?” Rosita asked knowingly.

“My child.”  Evelyn huffed.  “If I didn’t love him so much…”

“You’d strangle him,” Rosita finished.

Evelyn grinned.  “Oh, you’re already thinking like a Mommy.”

Rosita laughed.  “Have you
met
Milagros Velez?”

“I love her!  She’s teaching me to cuss out Alvin in Spanish!”

“And I’ll bet my dad is teaching Mr. Alvin how to sweet talk you in Spanish too.”

A glazed look entered Evelyn’s eyes.  “I can’t wait!”

Laughing and throwing a wink at her, Evelyn left the room.  Rosita shook her head with amusement, gazing down at Kerry once more.  She wondered if that was what she had to look forward to in a marriage with Ulrich: gentle teasing, a healthy amount of lust, unfailing adoration, mutual and genuine respect.  Rosita had to admit she was lucky.  Just about all of the married couples in her life had all of those things.  She could admit she’d taken it for granted, and had even thought it wasn’t for her after that one horrendous relationship that resulted in her first, and thus far only, miscarriage.  But it actually wasn’t until seeing Bevin with Tim did it really hit home for her—men of their fathers’ generation weren’t extinct.  They existed, and if one were patient and a little particular, one could find such a man for herself.  Bevin had, though she’d done the exact opposite of what all those women’s magazines said women should do to snag a man:  be a single-digit size; flirt; pretend for the first x-months.  Whatever.  Bevin had been herself—insecurities, inexperience, and all—and Tim had basically told her, “I don’t care, I love you anyway.”  Rosita couldn’t help but get a little hope from that, even if, in the back of her mind, she’d never expected it to bear fruit.

But boy, did it ever!
she thought to herself, smoothing a hand along her distended tummy.  She chuckled, and then her smile widened when she heard an answering one.

Looking down, she saw her godson grinning at her.  She let her nose touch his, and he giggled even more.

“I love you,” she whispered, her heart suddenly becoming full with the emotion.

“Roro!” Kerry replied, turning his face to the space where her heart beat.  Rosita held him closer, wondering if she felt this buoyant holding someone else child if she’d float right out her seat while holding hers.

“I can already tell motherhood will suit you just fine…not that I had any doubt.”

Rosita didn’t bother opening her eyes.  “I’m stealing your son.”

“Good luck; Tim knows where you live!”

Snickering, Rosita opened her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Bevin, who merely gave a smile reminiscent of her child’s.  She glowed, her midnight skin seeming to shine as if a full moon rose within her, and Rosita gasped.

“Are you pregnant
again
?!” she accused, eyes narrowing.

Bevin, despite her dark hue, blushed and ducked her head, touching her middle.  “Tim seems to think so. I haven’t taken the test yet.”

Rosita rolled her eyes and huffed.  “Tim would keep you perpetually knocked up if he could!”

Bevin laughed at that.  “Well, he needs to have another plan.  So easy for him to make decisions when he doesn’t have to carry them out!”

Rosita arched an eyebrow.  “You know good and well you don’t mind.”

Bevin rolled her eyes but smiled a little.  “Not
too
much…I certainly love the end product,” she whispered, staring at her baby.  She then looked at Rosita with contrition.  “I don’t mean to steal your thunder if I am.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is your moment,” Bevin insisted, her eyes dropping to Rosita’s tummy.  “And here come me and my horny husband rainin’ on your parade—”

“Misery loves company,” Rosita said dryly.

Bevin laughed, which caused Kerry to squeal and turn his head to his mother.  Bevin clapped and approached them, relieving Rosita of her bundle as mother made silly faces at her son.  Not five seconds later, the door opened revealing Tim and Ulrich, the former heading directly for his family while the latter came straight to her.

Ulrich glared mildly at Rosita, putting his hands on his hips.  “You got me in trouble!”

“Shouldn’ta lied to your mama like that!” Rosita said unapologetically, putting her hands primly on her belly.

“Ha!” Tim exclaimed, sitting in the free rocking chair and bringing his wife and son onto his lap.  Kerry reached immediately for his father’s nose, which Tim shook out of the way, making Kerry squeal further.

Ulrich’s glare intensified as he stared at his best friend.  “Did anyone ask
you
?”

“Nope, but my house, I can share my opinions freely,” Tim announced.

“And you let him get away with this?” Ulrich asked Bevin.

She shrugged.  “I mean, he can give ’em, don’t mean I have to take ’em!”

“Ha-ha!  That’s my woman!” Ulrich cheered, going to Bevin to give her a high-five.  Tim glowered at them both.

“I don’t get no respect!” Tim said in a very good imitation of Rodney Dangerfield.

“That’s because it’s earned, baby,” Bevin chastised, even as she placed a kiss upon his pouting lips.  When they broke apart, Kerry finally succeeded in grabbing his father’s nose, and Tim rolled his eyes exasperatedly.  “What did I say?!”

Chuckling, Ulrich and Rosita looked at each other.  He bent down on his haunches and placed his hands on her belly.  “How are we doing?”

Rosita playfully palmed his head.  “We are fine.”

Grinning, Ulrich kissed her tummy and she kissed the top of his head.  “Good to hear.”

“I think so too,” she said cheekily.

Looking very pleased with himself, Ulrich sat fully on the floor and leaned his head against Rosita’s abdomen.  The baby inside her pressed against the uterine wall as if in greeting and Ulrich kissed her belly again.

“I can’t wait to meet you,” he murmured quietly, circling her protruding belly button.

“Stop that,” Rosita whispered hoarsely, blinking rapidly at the sudden moisture that filled her eyes.

“Stop what?” Ulrich asked, a corner of his mouth rising in soft amusement.

Rosita sniffed and touched her cheeks, pointedly ignoring the attention Bevin and Tim were giving them.  “You know what.”

Ulrich stood on his knees once more, his face right in hers as his hands framed her pregnant bulge.  “I’ll stop when you give me what I want.”

Rosita sniffed again, trying for a haughtiness she certainly didn’t feel.  “Greedy—”

“Why are you fighting me?” he asked, bringing his face closer so their noses touched.  “Your parents love me, I love them; my parents love you…
I
love you…”

It was the first time he’d said it, and the fact he’d said it with witnesses present made it impossible for Rosita to dismiss the claim.  Words and tears clogged her throat; she couldn’t do anything but shake her head.

“
Tú eres una buena mujer y tú serás una buena madre, la madre de
mis
hijos.  Estoy muy alegro que tú seas la madre de mis hijos, chica, muy alegro,
” Ulrich whispered against her mouth.

Rosita knew he’d asked someone, probably her father, how to say that in Spanish, because while Ulrich knew enough to be conversational, that speech sounded too practiced to be off the cuff.  Nevertheless, she was still touched by the effort, that he wanted her to know in her co-native tongue how he felt about their upcoming parenthood.  She wasn’t just some chick he’d happened to knock up and would now do right by, he was truly glad.

“Oh, baby,” she managed to squeeze out her throat, cupping the back of his head with both of her hands.

“
Casarte conmigo, por favor
,” he continued, his voice trembling with the request.  “Marry me.”

She let her forehead settle against his and allowed the tears to flow freely down her cheeks.  Ulrich rubbed her abdomen, as if their child could give him the strength to withstand any answer she gave.

“What if I say no?” Rosita asked.

“Then I will just ask again,” Ulrich promised.  “Just so you know, nobody else is being a father to my child but me, you understand?”

Well, damn!
  Rosita had to laugh a little.  “I am not an easy woman, Ulrich.”

“
No quiero fácil, chica, te quiero
,” he insisted.

“Lawd, Jesus, tell the man yes!”

Both Ulrich and Rosita turned to see a sobbing Bevin glaring at them, Tim grinning as he calmed down his wife with gentle words whispered against her temple.  Kerry, perfectly comfortable against his mother’s chest, raised a golden hand and nodded.  “Roro!”

Nuzzling her tears away with his cheek, Ulrich whispered in her ear.  “Even our godson approves, Rosa.”

It certainly seemed that way.  “When would this happen?”

“Hell, we could get married Saturday.  There’s no waiting period in Virginia.”

“That soon?” Rosita asked.

“The sooner the better,” Ulrich said, standing and helping her to her feet also.  He wrapped his arms around her and she settled her cheek against his shoulder.  “As outdated as the thought may be, I would like for you to be my wife when you birth my child, not just my baby’s mama.”

“We still have months to go—”

“We might get shipped out,” Ulrich reminded her quietly in her ear.

Rosita tightened her arms around him and looked at Bevin and Tim.  She spoke silently to her best friend, who nodded her dark head and settled further into her husband’s embrace.