“We’re all right, Tom. Just leave the machine where it is for now, okay? You can finish up tomorrow. It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault.”
He paused for a second. “I’m real sorry, ma’am. God, I’m just . . . Are you sure you’re okay?”
I was still crying but I managed to nod my head and offer him a small smile, before I looked up at Preston. “I would have died for him,” I said, searching his eyes with mine. “I would have gladly died for my baby, Preston. I was ready to. I didn’t hesitate, not even for a second.”
Preston used his thumb to wipe something from my cheek, his brow furrowed and his eyes still holding the bright sheen of panic. I could feel his big body shaking beneath mine. “I know, Annalia. Did you doubt it?” His hands moved over me as if checking me for injuries. “Does anything hurt?”
I looked back over my shoulder to where Joaquin was holding Hudson, bouncing him on his hip while Tracie checked him over. Rosa and Alejandro were with them, too, Rosa murmuring soft words to Hudson, and Alejandro standing with his hand on Rosa’s shoulder.
I focused back on my own body, in order to answer Preston’s question. I felt a sharp throb in my ankle, but the rest of me seemed to be fine. “Just my ankle,” I said, straightening my leg out from under me. Preston picked me up and took me over to Hudson. Oh, how I needed to see for myself that he was okay.
I ran my hand over his head, leaning in and kissing his soft cheek, inhaling his scent and reassuring myself that he was okay. “Mama,” he said, and I burst into tears.
“Yes, baby. I’m your mama. I’m your mama, sweet boy.”
“Co!” Hudson said exuberantly. I smiled and looked up at Preston in confusion. He shrugged slightly, smiling down at me.
Hudson pointed his chubby finger to the left, in the direction he’d turned at the very last second, the two or three steps that had saved our lives. “Co,” he insisted again.
I tilted my head, a foggy feeling of wonder falling over me. “Are you saying, Cole, baby boy?”
I felt Preston’s arms tense under me, and Hudson grinned. “Co,” he affirmed. And seemingly satisfied, he pointed toward the house.
“Yes,” I murmured shakily. “Yes, I’d like to go home, too.”
**********
“Here you go, mija,” Rosa murmured, smoothing her hand over my hair as she handed me the cup of tea.
I smiled as I took a sip. “Thank you, Rosa.”
“How’s your ankle?”
I glanced at it where it rested, elevated on a pillow. It was red and slightly puffy, but the ice I’d applied had reduced most of the swelling, and the two Tylenol I’d taken had lessened the discomfort. I was almost certain it wasn’t broken, although if it got worse in the morning, I’d see a doctor. For now, I just wanted—needed—to be in the same house as Hudson. “It’s fine.”
Rosa sat on the edge of the bed, and we both looked up when my mama stopped in the doorway, standing there twisting her hands and looking as if she wasn’t sure she should be there or not. “Come in, Mama,” I said softly.
Mrs. Sawyer had left an hour before for San Francisco. She had wanted to cancel the trip after the traumatic events of the day, but Preston had assured her everything was fine and the time away would be good for her. I’d been relieved to have the house to ourselves.
My mama entered the room and sat at the end of the bed, and Rosa smiled at her and then turned her face to me, patting my leg gently. “Preston’s putting Hudson to bed. When I passed the nursery, Hudson was demanding another book. It seems he’s taking advantage of the extra attention.”
I smiled. “Preston’s a good dad.”
“Yes, he is. And you are a good mom.” Rosa glanced at my mama and looked back at me. “I heard what you said after the accident. Did you doubt yourself, cari?o?” Her wise eyes watched me with so much tenderness that tears burned the backs of my lids.
I let out a breath. “Part of the reason I left was because I thought . . . I . . . I wasn’t a good mother.”
Rosa took my hand in hers. “Oh Annalia, why did you think that?”
I looked down, biting my lip. “I tried to nurse him, but it didn’t work. I couldn’t get him to latch on, and he would just cry and cry.” I took in a shuddery breath. “I finally gave up and put him on formula, but then . . .” I blinked up at her. God, it was still hard to talk about this, but I needed to say it. I glanced over at my mama and when I began speaking again, I spoke in Spanish so she understood what I was saying. “When Hudson was four months old, I started having these . . . visions of him being hurt.” A small shudder moved through me. “I’d see myself dropping him, or I’d put him in his bath and envision him sliding under the water.” I shook my head, wanting to blot out the memory, the fear, the horror of the strength of the things I saw in my mind’s eye, the pictures that filled me with terror and a clawing panic.
“Oh, Annalia, that’s not unusual,” Rosa said, speaking in Spanish now as well. “Was it like, when you were carrying him down the stairs, you envisioned dropping him over the railing and so you held him more tightly and took the stairs as slow as a turtle?”
I blinked at her, drawing in quick breath. “Yes,” I whispered. “Yes, that’s—”
“It’s normal, cari?o. I think it’s the hormones running rampant through your system, but it’s really nature’s way of ensuring we protect our young. Those danger signals are particularly strong when we have infants, and they can be scary because the pictures we form in our mind are vivid. But they mean you’re a good mother. Oh, mi amor, you were so alone, weren’t you?”
I nodded, her words making me sad, but mostly, oh mostly, they filled me with relief so intense I gasped out. “Yes,” I said. “Yes, but . . .”
“We all need community. It is especially important for a new mother. There are so many questions, so many doubts.”
“Yes,” I said, glancing at my mama.
Rosa looked at my mama, too. “You haven’t had that either, have you, Gloria? Community?”
My mama looked surprised, but acknowledged what Rosa had said by shaking her head, her gaze lingering on me.
Rosa stretched her other hand out and grasped my mama’s hand. “It sounds like you had a very difficult time, too, Gloria. But you had Annalia. You were given an angel who worked hard and made sure you had everything you needed. An angel of a girl. How very, very blessed you are.”
My mama’s eyes lingered on Rosa for several moments and when her gaze moved to me, my breath came out in a soft gasping sound. I reached out my hand to my mama and she took it, forming a circle of the three of us. “Sí,” she said softly, a sound of confused wonder in her tone. Her expression was slightly stunned, and she looked at me for several long beats as if she was seeing me for the very first time. And perhaps she was.
“Un angel. Sí.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Annalia