Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
He’s so careful with Elena, so caring. He’s a better father than I even imagined, and I had imagined him doting on her. He never gave himself enough credit.
He pushes the stroller toward us, eyes on Elena. She is reaching out for him with a big smile on her lips and her mouth open. She's all gums. Her cheeks are a healthy pink, her eyes the same shade as his. I know that can still change, but I hope not.
“You want your daddy, don’t you?” he asks, smiling a bright smile. He releases the stroller and takes her from me. “I hope all those people won’t expect to hold her,” he says to me with a glance through the windows of the French doors leading to the room where the party will be held after her baptism. It’s a baptism and a belated baby shower in one. The latter was Colette’s idea.
“Of course they’ll want to hold her,” I tell him. “She’s the reason they’re here. And you will smile and let them.”
“I will not.”
“Mm-hmm.” I push the stroller as we walk toward the small chapel at IVI. I remember our first night there. The night of the marking. It’s been more than a year since that day, and any feeling I used to associate with it or with this place is gone. That’s partly a choice and partly time healing old wounds. And during these past three months, Santiago and I have healed. We’ve started a new life together. A new life with our new family.
A pianist plays soft music, and I can smell incense burning beyond the chapel door. We park the stroller as soon as we’re inside and carry Elena in. I smile to find the small gathering already at the back of the church around the baptismal font. My father is standing beside Eva. He’s holding Michael’s hand, and Hazel is beside Michael. Jackson and Colette are here too, the two of them seemingly even closer than before. Colette is holding Ben. Antonia is talking to Marco’s wife and their two children as Marco stands nervously by.
Mercedes is accompanied by Judge. I’m more and more curious as to their relationship. They stand a little removed from the gathering. She will only stay for the baptism. I know she wanted to be godmother, but Santiago told her no. We haven’t discussed it yet, but we will, I'm sure, as time passes.
Jonathan Price stands as the representative of IVI, and I’m surprised but happily so. I remember meeting him. He’d been warm and kind, and Santiago is at ease around him. We smile in greeting.
The priest who married us is wearing his ceremonial robes. He clears his throat and smiles, gesturing for us to take our places.
Santiago and I take Elena’s coat off, and I leave it in the front pew so she’s dressed only in the long white christening gown that Antonia made her. I had no idea she could sew, but it’s beautiful and a shame it will only be worn once. Although that’s not entirely true. Each of our children will wear the gown at his or her baptism.
Marco straightens his tie as we approach, and Eva steps beside him. She’s beaming. He stiffens even more. It’s funny to see him nervous. Eva will be Elena’s godmother, and Marco will be her godfather. He actually got emotional when Santiago asked him.
“Are we ready?” the priest asks as Elena excitedly extends her arms to Eva, leaning all her weight toward her.
Eva makes a face at her that has her giggling, and her giggle is infectious. Ben starts to wriggle in Colette’s arms, and Michael starts to make faces at Elena to get her attention.
The priest clears his throat, and so does Eva in a mock effort to be serious. Santiago hands Elena over to her and whispers in her ear for her to behave, but I see the wink he gives her.
Elena should have been baptized months ago, but with all that was going on, well, we didn’t even think about it.
Santiago takes my hand, winding his fingers with mine, and we watch as the priest performs the ceremony in perfect Latin. Elena only fusses when he dribbles water over her forehead, her chubby little arms wriggling, hands fisted, cheeks getting bright red as she prepares to let out a howl of indignation. It makes me smile. She's so much like her father, and I have to squeeze his hand to stop him from going forward and stopping the priest.
The ceremony is over quickly, and soon, we’re wrapping her up in a blanket.
Mercedes comes to congratulate us and hands Santiago a small gift. Judge then escorts her out. I know she wants to stay and some part of me wants to tell her she can. But today is about Elena. Not Mercedes. As everyone begins to make their way to the reception room, Santiago and I hold back along with the priest as Jonathan approaches, taking something out of the breast pocket of his jacket.