Of Lorenz Theory & Love

HM2V: Tell Her a Story

53: HM2V: Tell Her a Story

7 pm, 6 months later, Madalena Village, Azores, Epicenter Pico No. 23

Macy heard a thin cry coming from the master bedroom and went to investigate. Maya. Their daughter. It felt so strange and wonderful to finally be able to utter those words. "Feeding time," she murmured to no one, as she undid her blouse and fed the newborn, who suckled hungrily for several long minutes, before gently detaching, with a tiny, kitten-like yawn that tugged at her very heartstrings. Macy held Maya slowly over her shoulder to burp her, which she did once, then twice. She felt her baby's fingers close around her own larger finger and uttered a sigh of contentment, as the hour slowly ticked by.

Just then, Macy felt an odd prickle at the base of her neck, and sensed that she was not entirely alone in the room with her baby. She looked up; Harry stood in the doorway smiling at this tranquil nighttime image of his wife and new daughter, as the tropical wind gently whistled through the window a foot away. They could smell the plumerias and hibiscus that Matias was growing in his back patio, himself believing that a newly-birthed child should be exposed to nature's lush beauty from the moment the baby arrived home.

It was just one week since Maya's birth, and Macy still had momentary flashbacks of the agony she endured; her childbirth by epidural was prolonged due to it being her first pregnancy. The contractions had rolled across her like choppy yet razor-sharp waves hitting a sea voyaging ship tenuously trying to avoid shipwreck at all costs. She remembered gasping, crying, screaming through the pain, gritting her teeth so hard that her jaw ached for days afterward. Throughout it all, she recalled being more worried for Harry, who had an agonized look of horror on his face of all that Macy had to endure, issuing their baby into the world. Maya Madalena Valensi.

Harry quietly took Maya into his arms. "Shall we read you a story?" he asked, all the while looking at the epitome of strength and beauty that was his wife Macy, in wonderment that she and their daughter both had come through the ordeal alive and in one piece.

"I have a better idea," replied Macy. To Harry's querying face, she said, "I would like to tell her the story of Denis and Terezinha, her Azorian patriarch and matriarch."

"Excellent idea," said Harry, kissing Macy. "We're all ears."

Flashback, Storytime, Macy, age 7, and Dexter

"Can you tell me the story of Denis and Terezinha again, dad? Please?" asked a small girl with corkscrew curls of gold, bronze and ember.

"Oh, Macy," replied Dexter gruffly. "Haven't I told you the story a million times?"

"I want to remember the tale. For posterity," Macy stuck her chin out boldly.

"I see we've been working on our literary vocabulary?"

"100% on the last test Daddy, look!" Macy pointed to the piece of paper on her desk, feet away.

"Very good, Macy. It's always important to do your best so you can get into the top colleges and have all the doors of opportunity open to you."

"I get it, Daddy, I know."

"You know, there's also that story of Darcy, Dora, and Della. What would you do if you had a little sister?" Dexter asked, out of the blue.

"Daddy, don't be silly—I don't have sisters!" giggled Macy, her curls aflutter.

"But—" and here, Dexter paused. "Imagine, for a moment, that you did." He peered down at Macy to speak to her in a more serious-minded tone of voice. "How would you react?"

Macy tilted her head thoughtfully. "At first, Daddy, I would be worried, because I wouldn't be the only kid, and I'd have to share you." She paused, as if to mull this over. "But—I think—I think I'd be really, really, really happy. It would be like having a friend for life, right Daddy?"

"Yes, Macy," Dexter blinked hard, as if to wipe away tears, though Macy for the life of her couldn't imagine why a story about ancestors would put him in such a state. "Having a sister is like having a friend for life."

Epilogue

Maggie was in the Vera Manor garden, it was a lovely summertime afternoon, and the glass tealights were sparkling in the shimmering sunlight. She realized she was holding the hand of a little girl whose tiny, caramel-colored corkscrew curls encircled her visage like a miniature halo. It was, of course, her niece Maya Madalena Valensi. This entrancing child, part Whitelighter, had made herself known from the very beginning—before she had even been conceived. Maggie recalled the night that Harry had requested removal of his feelings, and Maggie, aware of his future little girl knew, as a Charmed One, that to acquiesce to his demand would have been impossible. Maggie also had enough sense not to tell him just exactly what it was that she saw, for fear of inadvertently disrupting the world order, vis-à-vis the butterfly effect. But there was no need to worry now. Maya had been born alive and safe, into an unconventional yet altogether compassionate family and was utterly surrounded by the love of everyone in it, young and old alike.

In particular, Maggie had made it her mission as an aunt to spoil Macy and Harry's daughter to bits, always doting on her, planting kisses on her cheeks, and giving her new bilingual picture books to read whenever she had the opportunity. Someday, she thought to herself, maybe years down the road, she and Jordan would have a child of their own too.

Maggie took a closer look at this toddler child that Maya had become; Maya was dressed to the nines in an English blue floral cotton dress that Harry had specially ordered from London weeks in advance. Maya also wore a matching printed bow that had somehow slipped further down in her hair. Like her mother Macy, she was always exploring, crawling, taking hesitant steps, then toddling around excitedly and ever-curious, whether it was in the kitchen with Macy and Harry as they made guava jam together, or in the garden with Mel as she read ancient texts. Maya had inherited Macy's lovely hair and mischievous personality, along with Harry's sympathetic eyes and complexion. She was quite a perfect mix of her favorite people in the world (besides Mel, of course).

Maggie heard peals of laughter, and followed the voices to a fancy table, where she saw gaily-wrapped birthday presents, a large "1st birthday" banner, and the familiar faces of Mel, Matias, Morgana, and a positively glowing Harry and Macy.

This was, she knew, a most happily-ever-after—or something like it.

---THE END--