Sixty Days (25 page)

“I think I have a clue,
” I tell him as I play with what little hair he has on the nape of his neck. “If it’s anything like how I feel right now, then I know. You make me the happiest person on this earth.”

“I love you, Mrs. Vega,
” he says with a smile as he finishes undressing me.

“I love you too, Mr. Vega.” I say back to him with the same smile
. He starts to kiss me, devouring my lips with his own.

From there we go on to what can be call
ed a blissful wedding night. We get all tangled up in our very own celebration of love, whispering how deeply we feel for each other in throes of sensual passion. We celebrate our new life together as husband and wife, the beginning of our forever, of our eternal love.

Chapter Fifteen

T

he next morning we went straight to the orphanage to sign the papers that John had waiting for us. He congratulated us, once again, for our wedding and for becoming new parents. I have to admit, at the beginning when we first approached him, he was hesitant about the whole adoption. He had said we were too young to be making such a big decision.  We told him our story and about the baby we lost. We also assured him that we were ready.

He was still h
esitant about it, but once he saw how we were with Maddie and the rest of the kids, he made us a deal. He told us to take some time and explore the situation, to really think about this decision we were about to make.

Now, I don’t know about Mickey
, but the past few days convinced me that we were fully ready for this. Thinking back over the things we have gone through as a couple, as well as independently, just made me believe we can do this. At the end of the day, we love each other and it seems selfish of us to keep a love as big as ours to ourselves. So, why not expand that love to this little girl who deserves all the love in the world, a little girl who needs us?

After we sign the papers
, we go over to see our new baby girl. John had told us the adoption should be just about ready to finalize after New Year’s but we could take her a few days before so she can get familiarized with the change in scenery. Since we still haven’t told our family yet, we tell him about our situation. John tells us, that since we are friends, he can wait to bring Maddie to us when we have gotten rid of our little problem.

It’s because of this that
Mickey and I finally said enough is enough. We are telling my family about everything. If they don’t accept it or approve, then it’s their lost. It’s our little family now, dog included, against the world.

When we found Maddie she was in the recreation room, sitting
at a small table all alone, coloring. She looked so tiny and cute there, so peaceful and angelic.

“Hey, baby girl,
” I softly say as I take a sit next to her, Mickey kneeling bedside us.

“You hewe.” H
er smile turns into a ray of sunshine as she acknowledges us and gives us each a hug.

“We sure are, baby girl,
” Mickey says playing with one of her curls.

“We wanted to talk to you.” S
he furrows her tiny brows. “Actually, we wanted to ask you how you would feel about coming to live with us?” She still looks confused and I have to remember that I’m talking to a three year old. “What I’m trying to say is…how would you feel if Mickey and I were to become your mommy and daddy?” I know we should have asked her before, but as I see her face light up in excitement, I knew she was more than okay with this. She was always meant to be ours.

“You goin to be my mommy and daddy?” she says
in her tiny excited voice. “I never hawd a mommy and daddy. What about my friewnds hewe?” She furrows her tiny brows.

“You’ll still see them, baby girl. Whenever Laylah and I come
here, we promise to bring you with us so you can still see them,” Mickey says as he caresses her head. “So, what do you say?” He grabs my hand and tightens his grip on it, “Do you want us to be your mommy and daddy?” I can see the hope in his face; it’s the same hope I have in mine. It seems silly that such a tiny person can hold the key to our complete happiness, but she does.

“Yesh!” she squeaks bouncing in between us. And just like that we have our first hug as a family.
“I knew Santa would give me what I askwed for. He didn’t break his prowmise,” she whispered into our ears.

W
e spend a couple of hours explaining to her, well…trying to explain to her, how the process works and that we still couldn’t take her home with us for a few more days. We then told her about every single person in our family and showed her pictures of them. Mama and Lola had already met her when we had first started volunteering at the orphanage, and surprisingly enough, she remembered them. We also couldn’t leave out Buddy the puppy, she seemed to be most excited about him. All the while, she just listened in awe and I could see the excitement in those beautiful honey eyes of hers. She truly is a ray of sunshine and I wanted nothing more than to cherish this moment for ever.

This moment was defini
tely going into my sacred vault. Right next to the day Mickey proposed, our improvised wedding, and the many other wonderful memories we have already made together and will continue to make. Life couldn’t have gotten any better at that moment.

Later that day
, when we finally arrive home, no one even batted an eye at us. I guess Mario did a really good job of covering for us. Either that, or no one really noticed we were gone.

On the day before New Year’s Eve I was feeling a special kind of crappy.
I really am as hard headed as my dad and my brother, as much as I hate to admit it. I woke up puking and sneezing and I could barely recognize my voice from all the congestion in my head.  Mickey and Mama had decided to take care of me. Mickey insisted, to me at least, that he was my husband and he’ll be damned if he let any other person take care of me. Of course, he had to draw a line when it came to Mama since, as I have said millions of time before, there is no arguing with her.

I was lying on the sofa
in my pajamas, dwelling on what, I swore, would be the last day of my life. I was pretty sure I was dying, and even came to the conclusion that this was karma flipping me the bird because of my lies. Karma being the bitch that she is, decided to add Mary into the mix.

“You look awful,” she says
with a scowl, taking a seat on one of the sofas. The living room had three, I was lying on the bigger one.

“
Thanks, captain obvious,” I can’t help the sarcasm and cold tone in my voice.

“You’re welcome,
” she murmurs and shrugs. “What are you watching?”

I roll my eyes at her
. “One of Mama’s telenovelas.”

“Do you even understand what are they saying?”

“Not a clue,” I sigh.

“So
, little miss perfect isn’t that perfect after all,” she mutters in a sing song way.

“What the hell is
your problem?” I snap at her lifting up into a sitting position and quickly sneezing.

“You! You are my problem!
” she yells, pointing her finger at me.

“Wha
t the hell did I ever do to you for you to be such a bitch to me?” I ask her and I can feel myself boiling with fury. I know I said I wanted to talk to her about it, but I so did not plan it this way.

“What is happening in here?” Mama hisses as she enters the room “What is all the yelling for?”

“Nothing.” Mary shrugs. “I’m just going to leave now.”

“Oh
, no! No, you’re not. You two are going to talk this through and neither of you are coming out of this room until you do so. I have had it with the looks you both give each other and the snarky comments. So, talk. AHORA!” Mama reprimands us both as she bolts out of the room full with fury. We got out of it nicely. Trust me, we did. You never, ever get a Puerto Rican woman mad. Never. Especially if that woman is my grandmother.

“Well…that was completely unnecessary.” Mary sighs as she rests her back on the sofa.

“You can say that again.” I give a short humorless laugh. “She’s right, though.”

“Isn’t she always?” S
he scrunches up her face.

“What happened to you, Mary?” I ask with a soft voice
. “I mean, what happened with us? One moment we were like this,” I tell her as I show her two of my fingers together, “and then, poof! Everything is bad between us.” I snap my finger in emphasis.

“Are you kidding?” S
he sits up straighter in her seat and turns toward me. “Do you know how tiresome it is to always hear about how perfect you are? ‘Oh! Laylah did this, Laylah does that. Oh! Isn’t she so lovely’,” she mocks. “It gets old.”

“Are you for real? You get practically everything handed to you, while I
have to fight for the things that I want.” She opens her mouth to talk but I don’t let her.

“No, you get to listen to me now. I ha
ve also had it with listening to your shit for years. I get— I get that your mom died, but you’ve got the greatest dad in the world who adores you. You may of have lost a mom, but you gained three. Three. Do you have any freaking idea how many kids are out there without a mother and a father? Yet, you act like the poor victim? Get out of that fucking bubble of self-pity you’ve wrapped yourself in, Mary. You’ve sure as hell got it way better than others. While your crying your loss of one parent, there are kids out there begging to have an actual family, a home.

You lost your mom, Mary. I get that. But
, you at least got to spend time with her, Ari didn’t even get the chance to meet her. You still have your dad and a sister that adore and love you, with all their heart. I don’t know where you get that people are always praising me, or whatever, but is not like that. If you want people to like you, open yourself up more. Let people in, instead of driving them away with your attitude.” I pause to let it sink it.

“And, Mary? I am
far from perfect. As far as I know, you haven’t had to go through a fight with your dad because he doesn’t respect the decisions you have made in your life. You haven’t had to go through years of fucking anxiety just for it to turn into a serious depression. You haven’t lost your desire to live. You haven’t had to lie, keep secrets, and who you truly are from your whole fucking family because you fell in love with someone they won’t approve of. And you sure as hell haven’t gone through the pain of laying in your own goddamn pool of blood because you miscarried your baby girl.” By the time I’m finish I’m in a mess of snotty tears.  “So, no, you don’t get to play the goddamn victim.”

At some point in
my confession Mary had joined me on the sofa and is now caressing my back as I cry all the pain away. “God! I had no clue, Laylah. I’m so sorry,” she says as she pulls me in a hug.

“It’s okay,
” I mumble “Barely any one knows about that last part.”

“Still…Laylah, I
’ve been so wrapped on in my own little bubble, as you so nicely put it, that I haven’t realized what’s going around me. Tell me…what happened to the father? Is he your current boyfriend or is he someone else?”

“He’s my current husband,
” I confess “He’s Mickey.”

“What?” she gapes at me. “When did this happen?”

“Christmas day. Mario married us.” I sheepishly smile. “God! This is so fucked up. I love him, with all my being, but we have done everything so backwards and upside down. If they didn’t hate him before, they sure as hell are going to hate him now.”

“No one
is going to hate him, Laylah.”

“Kevin and dad are. They already hate the idea of us being together and they
don’t even know we are together,” I say, feeling exasperated.

“Well,
there is nothing they can do about it now, is there?” she says, trying to cheer me up.

“I guess not,
” I say, spacing out. “Do you— do you like him? Mickey, I mean. Do you hate me for being with him?” I had to ask.

“No, Laylah,
I don’t like him and I don’t hate you. Never have. I guess, deep inside, I knew you liked him and my envy made me believe that I did like him, but, I don’t. Never did, now that I think about it.” She gives a small, sad smile. “I’m sorry, Laylah. I really am. Can we start over? That is, if you don’t hate me.”

“I don’t hate, Mary. I dislike
, but I don’t hate and I could never hate or dislike you, you’re family. Family always deserves the benefit of the doubt as well as second chances, so, yes we can start over. We already have.”

“Thank you.” S
he hugs me.

“And
, Mary…I’m sorry, too. For calling you a bitch, in my mind that is. I’m sorry,” I tell her once we pull out of the hug, making her smile at me.

New Year’s Eve is upon us and,
I swear, this time I really am dying.
After my conversation with Mary, everything was great. I had finally cleared things up with her and we were starting to get reacquainted. I was also feeling better, my congestion eased slightly, and I was able to eat. But, ever since I woke up this morning, I’ve been hugging the toilet. I tried eating, but nothing really looked appealing.