Number Nineteen (Mario Götze/Goetze/Gotze)

Chapter Thirty-One

The journey to the Canary Islands was not so glamorous.

Me, being my thirty-four week pregnant self, was in no means in the best mood for a long trip in a fast train, and in much less control of my insides on a boat.

The resort, on the other hand, was fantastic.

I was currently laying atop a lounge chair at the beach, wearing a gorgeous green bikini with my baby bump fully on display.

The resort wasn't super full, but a decent amount of people have fan-girled over Lio and interrogated me about the baby.

The water was a gorgeous, unnaturally natural shade of blue, and if I stood near it I could see the rocks at the bottom of the surface. Lio has been swimming with fish, scuba diving, and so much more--always reluctant, however, feeling guilty for my lack of ability.

I, however, was perfectly fine soaking in the sun, sipping club sodas and eating gelato.

It was warm for an end-of-March day--seventy four degrees--but for the islands it was common. The sun was shining, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky.

I watched a couple playing in the sand with a little girl who looked like she was having the time of her life. I smiled as her father tickled her, her childish giggle echoing through the air.

"You expecting soon?"

A pretty, brunette, pregnant-looking woman sat down beside me. Looking over, I realized she looked old enough to be my mother, and I realized it showed in my face. She let out a laugh.

"I'm Berta. In case you're wondering, I'm forty-six. And yes, I am pregnant."

I tried to hide my astonishment.

"Wow! Good for you!"

She smiled, her eyes crinkling.

"Don't worry, I know you're surprised. I was too! John and I had been trying for twenty years. Twenty years! And then after we had given up, one drunken night was all it took . . ."

One drunken night was all it took.

I could relate to that all too well.

"Boy or girl?" I asked, warming up to her.

She seemed kind and genuine, and definitely gave off motherly vibes.

"Twins!" she exclaimed with a grin. "Two girls. John and I couldn't be more excited. Though, I'm definitely concerned about the drama!"

I nodded understandingly, my head turning. If she was forty six now, by the time her daughters entered their teenage years--the rebellious time--she'd practically be sixty. Could she handle it?

I glanced over at Berta again, and her face answered my question. Her loving smile, her kind eyes. She was going to spoil her kids rotten-- but she had her limits.

They'd be taken care of for sure.

"How far along are you?"

"Thirty-four weeks," I replied, and this time it was her turn to look surprised.

"Getting pretty close there! How long are you here for?"

"Two weeks."

She thought for a moment, concern crossing her face but she didn't say anything.

"What about you?" I asked, growing worried.

What had happened?"

"Twenty-seven weeks. My back is KILLING me!" She exclaimed with a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.