Chapter Text
October
Tuesday mornings are calm, she makes sure of that since she won’t see him until after school on Wednesday.
Oliver’s backpack is on the table, his water bottle the only thing left to pack. Maya moves through their routine automatically while Oliver takes his time eating breakfast.
It’s calm, no music, just the low hum of the coffee machine and Probie humming under his breath as he eats.
She fills his water bottle, placing it in his bag before zipping it shut. Right as she takes her first sip of coffee, Oliver pipes up, “Mommy?”
“Yes, probie?”
“We have to eat pasta tomorrow.”
She turns to face him properly, eyebrows lifting slightly. “We do?” She asks.
He nods, seriously. “Yeah, cus, cus Enzo is Italian. And Italian people like pasta, you and Enzo’s mamma said so.”
She blinks once. “Okay,” she says slowly, “couple things.”
He doesn’t say anything, just looks up at her with wide blue eyes.
“Not everyone who is Italian likes pasta, we can’t assume that. And also, you don’t like pasta.”
“I changed my mind, mommy,” he replies without hesitation.
She bites her cheek in an attempt not to laugh. “Have you?”
“Yes! Auntie Vic said if I try it enough, I might learn to like it.”
Of course.
“That does sound like something Auntie Vic would say.”
“Please, mommy?”
“I can ask his mamma what she thinks, okay?”
“Okay,” he echoes easily.
She takes another sip of her coffee before pausing, frowning slightly. “Do you know what kind of pasta Enzo likes?”
He freezes, putting his spoon halfway to his mouth. “...pasta,” he says with a small nod to himself.
She huffs, a soft smile on her face as she grabs her phone. “Right, of course. Go finish your breakfast, I’ll ask Carina.”
“Are we having pasta?” Oliver asks as soon as she puts her phone down.
“We’re having pasta.”
He nods, satisfied, though a second later his nose wrinkles just slightly.
“Hey,” she starts, “this was your plan, probie.”
“I know,” he mutters, hopping off his chair, grabbing his bowl and bringing it to the sink. “I’m gonna try.”
She reaches out, smoothing a hand over his hair as he walks past her. “I know you are.”
He leans into her. “Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“What if I still don’t like it?”
She smiles, softer this time. “Then I’ll get you something else to eat.”
She made it out of the station on time, her shift had been almost boring, mostly filled with paperwork and a false alarm.
The house is quiet when she steps inside, Oliver having long gone to school by now.
She drops her keys into the bowl by the door, pushing off her sneakers without much thought. She takes a second, although she got some sleep, she is definitely in need of more. She pulls out her phone as she walks up the stairs, setting an alarm for two hours, quickly changes into more comfortable clothes and collapses onto her bed.
She doesn’t need ages, but two hours will be more than enough to be properly rested and still give her time to clean the house up before tonight.
When the alarm goes off, it still feels too soon. She drags a hand over her face with a soft groan before dragging herself up and out of bed.
There’s no time to linger, Oliver needs to be picked up and Carina and Enzo are coming over. The house is fine, but fine isn’t good enough. It’s not messy, just lived in. A mug is still on the coffee table, both her and Oliver have left a hoodie over the back of their chairs, and every corner seems to have something out of place.
She moves through the house with quiet efficiency. She straightens the pillows on the couch, wipes surfaces down and puts the hoodies in the laundry basket.
The house stays quiet, no music, no background noise, at one point she walks into her office, pausing at Oliver’s desk to refill his paper supply. She looks over to the other side of the room, at the records still neatly displayed.
She shakes her head and walks away.
Eventually, the house is clean.
Objectively.
Just not- it’s not a deep clean, not everything is in exactly the right spots, perfectly aligned yet. But there isn’t time for that, and realistically speaking, she knows Carina won’t mind.
The counters are cleared, the table is wiped down, dishes have been handled. Everything obvious has been fixed.
She lets out a slow breath before getting ready to pick up Oliver.
Pick-up is always louder than she expects. Kids spilling out of the building, voices overlapping, it’s always an adjustment from the quiet of home to this and unfortunately Carina only shows up right as the kids are running over to them.
Enzo reaches them first. “Mamma!” He quickly gives her a hug before taking his engine out of her hands.
“Mommy!” The smile on Maya’s face grows, and she automatically reaches out and steadies him when he crashes into her. “Hey probie.”
“We’re having pasta, right?”
She laughs quietly, already nodding. “We’re having pasta, I got everything yesterday.”
“Okay,” he says, and immediately turns towards his friend. “Enzo! We’re having pasta tonight, because you’re Italian.”
Maya closes her eyes for half a second and when she opens them she’s looking right at Carina who’s just barely containing her laughter.
“I promise I explained to him not everyone who’s Italian likes pasta but… evidently both of us saying Italians like pasta made a bigger impact,” she stammers, rubbing her hand against the back of her neck.
Carina presses her lips together, failing to hold back a smile. “We may have reinforced that one,” she admits lightly.
“Mamma, my shirt is dirty.” Lorenzo interrupts plainly.
Carina’s expression shifts, softening as she crouches down to face him properly. There’s a green paint smear across the front and she’s never been more glad that she’d send him to school in a plain black shirt this morning. The smear isn’t huge, but it’s noticeable. “That’s okay,” she says gently.
He firmly shakes his head. “I don’t like it. It’s wrong.”
He reaches out with his fingers, brushing against it as if that might fix it, and his shoulders tighten slightly.
She nods, a soft smile on her face. “Okay bambino, we’ll go home and change your shirt. Sì?”
Oliver looks between them. “No, Enzo, you can come to ours,” he says quickly, “we’re having pasta.”
Enzo looks at his friend, then back down at his shirt. “I need a different one. But… we can come over after, right mamma?”
Carina quickly shoots Oliver a reassuring smile before focusing on Lorenzo again, her voice steady. “Absolutely, we’ll just go home to get you a new shirt quickly and then we’ll go to Oliver and Maya.”
Enzo nods once. “We go home, I change, then we go to Oliver and Captain Maya,” he repeats.
A soft smile spreads across Maya’s face as she watches Oliver relax.
Carina glances up at her with a small, apologetic smile. “We’re going to be a little later.”
Maya shakes her head immediately, dismissing the apology before it can settle. “That’s alright.” She turns to Oliver, answering before he can even ask. “Yes probie, we’re still having pasta.”
Oliver brightens instantly. “We can play upstairs in my room, Enzo!”
The tiny brunet tilts his head. “With your Lego?”
“Yes!” Oliver exclaims eagerly, practically bouncing where he stands.
They linger for another second before Carina reaches for Lorenzo’s hand, something he takes without hesitation. “See you soon.”
“See you soon,” Maya replies softly.
“Mamma?” Lorenzo starts as they walk toward their car. “I don’t like how my shirt feels.”
Carina’s grip on his hand tightens just slightly, her thumb brushing over his knuckles. “I know. We’re going to fix it,” she answers gently.
Maya watches them walk off for a second before Oliver tugs at her hand. “Mommy?”
She looks down at him, attention shifting instantly. “Yeah?”
“What if he doesn’t like pasta?”
She squeezes his hand lightly as they start walking toward their own car. “Then we figure something else out. Just as if you don’t like it.”
Oliver nods, reassured, swinging their joined hands as they go.
“Captain Maya! I brought our plates!” That’s the first thing Enzo says as the door opens, he holds them out with careful but insistent hands.
Maya blinks, her lips part, but it takes a second for her brain to catch up. “That’s- that’s great Recruit. Thank you, can I take them from you?”
The brunet boy nods, passing them over with full trust and a smile on his face.
Behind him, Carina watches.
She wasn’t entirely surprised when he had ran to the kitchen after changing his shirt to grab both his and Oliver’s plate, but she’s glad Maya is going along with it as well as she does.
“Enzo! You’re here!” Oliver appears quickly, quickly coming to a stop right in front of his friend.
“Yes!” Lorenzo lights up, something Carina doesn’t think she’ll ever get enough of seeing. “With a new shirt! This one has an engine on it, cus I like engines, and your mommy Captain Maya is a captain and you also like firetrucks!”
Carina presses her lips together, shoulders tightening just slightly as she tries very hard not to laugh, and one glance over at Maya tells her she’s not doing much better.
She takes a breath and gathers herself. “Okay bambino, why don’t you take off your jacket and shoes.”
“Yes! Then we can go upstairs, I already pulled out all my lego!” Oliver says, bouncing on his toes.
Maya’s head snaps toward him as she raises her eyebrows. “What do you mean all your lego? I thought we agreed on one box?”
He looks over at her sheepishly. “Yes but-” he starts, gesturing vaguely, like the explanation is somewhere in the air. “I was looking for another set, and, now everything is on the floor.”
She stares at him for a beat before laughing softly, shaking her head. “We just have to make sure it’s all clean again before bed, okay?” She asks, ruffling his hair.
“Okay!” He nods quickly, already backing toward the stairs. “Come on, Enzo!”
The smaller boy had already put away his jacket and shoes and immediately follows his friend up the stairs. They disappear before Maya can say anything else, their footsteps thudding on the steps.
Carina steps further inside, hanging up her own jacket before turning to Maya with a small smile. “So… when you texted me saying you couldn’t promise his room would be clean?”
“It was a lot cleaner than it is if you’d go up now,” she says dryly. “Travis gives him too much lego. I’m pretty sure he has all the firefighter sets available.”
The brunette laughs softly under her breath, all too familiar with Andrea’s habit of spoiling Lorenzo. “I can believe that.”
The corner of Maya’s mouth curls and she lifts up the plates in her hand. “I’m just going to set these in the kitchen and make some tea, would you like some? Or something else to drink?”
“Tea sounds great, thank you.”
Maya nods once, a soft smile on her face, taps the side of the doorframe as she turns, a small, absent habit, before moving over to the kitchen.
The hallway is empty now, and Carina carefully takes off her shoes before walking into the living room.
It’s quiet, no music like at home, just the soft clink of something in the kitchen and the louder noise of the kettle going.
Her attention is immediately grasped by the picture frames on the wall. She walks over, letting her eyes run over them.
There’s a lot of Oliver.
From the very beginning, in the hospital, shortly after his birth. Maya looks pale but glowing, Oliver impossibly small in her arms. All the way to one that was clearly taken more recently, proudly climbing on the playground, all energy, limbs and a bright smile.
There’s others too, Oliver at the station, perched on the front of a firetruck, wearing gear that’s far too big for him. Another with whom she assumes are his auntie Vic and Tia Andy, both of them pulling him up in the air by one arm.
Most of the photos are of just Oliver, most of them unposed, messy, joyful. Pictures taken quickly, clearly in the moment.
Carina’s gaze slows when she spots a framed ultrasound, with right next to it, a photo of Maya, younger, her expression open in a way Carina hasn’t seen often. Bright-eyed, smiling wide as she holds up the ultrasound together with a man Carina doesn’t recognize.
The man appears in a few more photos, only ever with Maya.
In one, her stomach just begins to curve, a small bump, she thinks about three months, on display. She looks almost annoyed, like this wasn’t her idea. Though the next photo, clearly from the same moment, she’s laughing, head tipped slightly back, something easy in the way they stand together.
She studies it a moment longer than the others before looking over at the next frame.
Maya and the man are standing in front of a house. This house. His hands are at her waist, hers curled into his shirt, caught mid-kiss.
It’s intimate.
Familiar.
Though as Carina keeps looking, she doesn’t find a photo of a family of three.
Nothing of him and Oliver.
There’s no photos of the man past the seemingly three month mark.
Her eyes flick over the photos with the people from the station again, Jack is there, easy to spot, but only ever as part of the group. Never singled out, never placed like this.
Not like the man in the other frames.
Carina’s brow furrows slightly.
So Jack isn’t…
She’ll have to tell Amelia.
She pauses that thought. If Maya was dating him, she’d like to think she’d know by now. Five weeks of multiple playdates a week and dinners isn’t nothing.
She looks back at the ultrasound, then to the man beside Maya in the photo.
What happened to him?
The question is at the tip of her tongue, but she doesn’t say it. Instead, she straightens slightly, drawing her attention away from the wall just as movement shifts in the kitchen behind her.
“Carina?”
“Yes?”
“Would you mind grabbing my charger? It’s on the desk in my office, right through that door,” Maya asks, gesturing to the door across the room.
She doesn’t say anything, just gives a soft smile, nods, and walks over to the room. When she opens the door, the first thing she notices is Maya’s desk, neat, organized.
The second thing she notices is the smaller desk against the wall next to it. Pencils scattered across it, a drawing sits half-finished in the middle, abandoned mid-line. That must be Oliver’s desk.
Her expression softens before her gaze shifts to the most noticeable thing in the room. On the left wall are cabinets, almost entirely filled with records. Not decorative, not for show, there’s too many of them, too organized, clearly used and loved.
Without thinking she slowly makes her way over to the cabinet.
In the middle of it all sits a record player. It’s the only thing in the room that doesn’t quite fit.
Dust has settled lightly across the surface. Nothing heavy, but just enough to stand out against everything else in the house, enough to clearly indicate it hasn’t been touched in a while.
Her fingers hover near the shelves before she lets herself look properly. Some of the records she recognizes instantly.
Rumours.
Thriller.
Abbey Road.
There’s new ones mixed in between.
Blonde.
Currents.
Jungle.
It’s clearly a collection that has taken time.
Carina reaches out before she can stop herself, fingers brushing along the spines until she pulls one free just enough to look at it properly.
The 1975.
She tilts it slightly, taking in the worn corners, the faint creases that only come from being handled over and over again.
“Hey, did you find-”
Maya’s voice cuts in from the doorway, breaking the silence.
“Maya,” she replies as she turns towards her.
There’s a beat.
The blonde is standing just inside the room now, and something in her expression has shifted, it’s subtle, but it’s there. Her shoulders pull a little tighter and her gaze fixates not on Carina, but on the record in her hands.
“That’s-” She exhales shakily. “Would you mind putting that down?”
Carina’s eyes widen slightly.
“Oh, yes, of course. I’m sorry,” she’s already turning, carefully putting the record back exactly where she found it.
“It’s just- you have some great records,” she adds, her smile genuine as she steps back. “Do you play them often?”
The question lingers for just a second too long, and she almost misses Maya’s jaw tighten.
“No,” she says.
Maya’s mouth opens slightly, closes it, then opens it again. “I don’t-” She stops herself and her breath catches slightly before she starts again. “We-”
Another pause.
She shakes her head slowly.
“No,” she answers, quieter now.
And just like that the room feels different, smaller.
“Okay.” Carina doesn’t push. Instead, she reaches for the charger on the desk, lifting it slightly as if to confirm.
“This one?”
The change in the blonde is noticeable, her shoulders drop just slightly. “Yeah, that one.”
Maya steps back out of the room and Carina follows her, gently closing the door behind her.
Neither of them mention the records again.
But the dust coating the player, and the way Maya had said we, lingers in Carina’s mind, adding more questions to the growing list she can’t ignore.
Dinner comes together easily.
They fall back into a familiar rhythm, working together seamlessly.
Maya moves around the kitchen with practiced efficiency, reaching for things before she fully thinks about it, and Carina slips into the spaces between the Captain’s movements without hesitation. Handing her a spoon before she asks, shifting a pan just slightly out of the way or stepping back at the right moment.
“I had a patient once,” she starts casually, “who had something stuck in her vagina.”
“Already not a great start.” Maya cuts in.
She looks over at her with an unimpressed expression. “Maya.”
“Sorry sorry- continue,” the blonde replies with a small smirk.
“At first, she wouldn’t tell us what it was. But eventually… well we realized what it was.”
Carina pauses just long enough to glance at her.
“...an egg.”
Maya freezes before slowly turning her head. “I’m sorry- what?”
She presses her lips together, failing to hide her smile now. “An egg.”
“In?”
“Sì.”
For a few seconds, Maya just stares at her before breaking out in laughter. “Okay,” she says, shaking her head. “Not something I would’ve ever considered but, I shouldn’t be surprised really.”
“I once tried to tell my neighbour this story? She’s the CEO of a bank but, well, she didn’t find it as funny. She was horrified.” She admits.
“Some stories are better saved for people with our line of work?” Maya smirks.
Carina lets out a small laugh. “Assolutamente.”
She looks back at the sauce simmering between them. “This is how Lorenzo likes it,” she says, glancing at Maya. “In theory.”
Maya huffs softly before her lips curl into a soft smile. “That’s okay, if he doesn’t like it, we’ll adjust.”
“Grazie. I appreciate it, not everyone is as easy with Lorenzo’s eating habits as you are.”
“They should be,” she says simply. “I’m sorry that they’re not though. I try for there to never be pressure about food in my house, for anyone.”
Carina stills slightly at that.
Something in her shoulders eases, tension she hadn’t even fully noticed loosening as she looks at Maya.
“You do a great job, Maya”
The blonde glances up at her, a little surprised by the weight of it.
“But seriously, thank you,” Carina adds, quieter now, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You really don’t know how much that means to me… to know that I don’t have to worry. To know you’re willing to do things a little differently for Lorenzo.”
Maya’s expression softens. “It’s not different,” she says after a moment. “It’s just… what works.”
Carina watches her for a second longer, Maya’s words landing heavier than she probably intended.
Because she knows what “normal” looks like for most people. She knows the careful explanations. The apologies. The way she has learned to brace herself before meals with other people, to watch Lorenzo closely, to step in before somebody can say the wrong thing.
Her friends, her colleagues, they try. They accommodate in ways they understand and they’re always kind about it.
But this?
This is different.
It’s someone adjusting without being asked. Maya made space without making it a thing. She allowed it to be easy, like it goes without saying.
And this isn’t even someone she’s known for years. Not someone she chose.
Just- another mom.
The mom of a boy who had become friends with Lorenzo without blinking.
She exhales softly, something warm settling in her chest.
Meanwhile, Maya simply turns back to the stove, moving on like she hasn’t just shifted something important. Like this is just who she is.
“Boys! Dinner!”
The response is immediate, footsteps thunder down the stairs, uneven and fast.
Oliver appears first, Lorenzo just behind him. They slide into their seats like they’ve done this a million times before.
Enzo looks over at the kitchen where both his mamma and captain Maya are still finishing the food, before looking over at the table.
He takes it in slowly.
The plates.
His plates.
“Captain Maya! You used my plates!”
Maya glances over from the stove, a small smile already forming. “I did, Recruit! Does it look alright?”
He considers it for a moment, head tilting slightly as he studies the placement before breaking out into a grin. “Yes!”
Maya turns back to the stove, reaching for the pot before bringing it over to the table, steam curling up into the air. Carina follows with the sauce, placed carefully beside it.
Separate.
Oliver looks at his mommy, then at the pasta, and then back at her.
She gives a small nod. “It’s okay if you don’t like it,” she says gently.
“I know, but- but I’m gonna try.”
Maya’s expression softens, briefly squeezing his shoulder before pulling her hand back.
Next to him, Enzo looks over at Carina. “Mamma, is it the sauce how I like it?”
“Sì, it is, just like at home.” She reassures him.
“Captain Maya made it right?”
“She did, and I helped her make it.”
He presses his lips together, considering it for a moment before nodding. “Okay.”
Lorenzo takes a careful bite, and Carina silently holds her breath while Maya pretends not to watch.
“It’s good,” he says without looking up.
The Captain looks down at her plate, a smile tugging at her lips.
“But I don’t want any more sauce.”
Carina bites her lip before looking at Maya who’s already nodding. “That’s okay!”
The brunette lets out a quiet breath, some of the tension leaving her shoulders as she mirrors the ease in Maya’s tone.
Across from her, Oliver is taking his own bite, slower, more cautious. Almost as if he is approaching it as a task rather than something he’s excited about, carefully chewing the pasta. “It’s… okay.”
“Yeah? You like it?” Maya asks.
Oliver nods, a little uncertain, moving his fork absently through the pasta. “Yeah, but- but it’s not my favourite, mommy.”
She hums softly, unsurprised. “That’s okay, Probie. Do you want to finish eating this?”
“I do, just maybe not every day?” He asks, glancing down at his plate.
“Can I tell you a secret, Piccolo?” Carina interrupts before Maya can reply.
Blue eyes immediately look up at her, fork pausing halfway to his mouth.
“We don’t eat pasta everyday either.”
His eyes widen just slightly. “Really?”
And before either of the moms can reply, Lorenzo is already speaking up. “Yeah, we also eat pizza!”
Maya and Oliver let out a small laugh while Carina shakes her head amusedly. “We eat more than just pasta and pizza. But, I do love pasta.”
The blond boy’s grin widens as he happily takes another bite.
Conversations pick up quickly after that, not in a way that makes sense, not to the two moms at least. Just the boys bouncing from one topic to the next.
“Firefighters can’t lift an engine,” Oliver argues.
“Spider-Man could.” Enzo replies immediately.
Maya huffs quietly under her breath, content to not interfere while also considering just how strong that would have to make Spider-Man.
“No.” Oliver says immediately. Then, after a beat, “Maybe. Uncle Lucas said he saved the ferry and subway so… maybe he can lift the engine too.”
“I think monkeys could too.” Oliver continues after a second, seemingly committed now.
“Monkeys?” Carina blinks, interrupting.
“They’re strong.” Oliver agrees easily, not even looking at Carina.
“Not stronger than dolphins,” Lorenzo counters, half his attention entirely on his pasta.
Oliver stays quiet for a moment, taking a bite before replying. “They live in different places, they’re both strong. Just… differently.”
Lorenzo nods once, accepting that without argument. “That makes sense.”
Maya raises an eyebrow at that, glancing over at Carina next to her. Did they just..?
Carina’s lips twitch, clearly attempting not to laugh.
“Did you know dolphins are smart?” Oliver continues, leaning slightly forward now. “They can sleep with half their brain awake.”
The smaller boy’s eyes widen and his fork stills mid-air. “That’s so cool!”
Maya watches Oliver as he talks, hands moving, words tumbling over each other, and then Enzo, just as alive, just as certain in everything he says.
Carina watches them too, but every now and then her gaze flicks to Maya.
Each time, Maya looks a little more at ease.
A little less like she’s waiting for something to go wrong.
Maya stands first, gathering the plates as she tells the boys to head to the couch. Next to her, Carina moves without asking, collecting the rest.
“I can help with the dishes,” she offers as they set them down in the sink.
But the blonde immediately shakes her head. “No, it’s okay, I’ll do them later.”
“They’re not that many-”
“It’s no bother,” Maya interrupts. “Really, I can do them after Oliver goes to bed. Plus, I think the boys would cause a riot if they have to wait too long for Spider-Man wouldn’t you say?”
She lets out a laugh and moves to lean on the counter, looking over at the two boys driving their cars across the coffee table. “Lorenzo is definitely not a fan of waiting”
“Yeah,” Maya says with a small smirk. “Oliver isn’t either.”
There’s a brief pause as Maya cleans the table and Carina watches the boys for a moment. The way Lorenzo lines up the cars with careful precision before pushing them forward, and the way Oliver carefully crashes his own two cars, mindful of not touching Lorenzo’s traffic jam.
“Thank you,” she says after a second.
Maya glances over at her as she places the cutlery into the sink. “For what?”
Carina gestures towards the living room and the table. “For all of this. Dinner, and… making it easy.”
Maya huffs softly as she shakes her head. “I told you, it’s no bother.”
The brunette opens her mouth to argue, but chooses against it, simply smiling instead. “Next week, it’s my turn again.”
“Uhm- no it isn’t.”
“No?” She blinks.
“You’ve hosted twice already.” Maya points out, leaning against the counter next to her. “Now it’s my turn. Twice.”
She lets out a small laugh, tilting her head. “Maya-”
“I mean it,” Maya insists, her voice soft. “I’ve got it.”
There’s something in the way she says it, quiet but certain, that makes Carina pause before nodding. “Okay,” she concedes, a small smile on her face. “But I’ve ordered once, maybe next week we do something easy. Deal?”
Maya briefly looks over towards the boys. “Deal.”
Though just like his mamma did earlier, Enzo also notices the wall. He moves closer to it, his head tilting slightly as his eyes move from frame to frame. “There’s so many pictures.”
Oliver nods, without paying too much attention. It’s a picture wall, it’s supposed to have pictures.
“Can we go again?” Lorenzo points to a picture further up the wall and Maya follows his line of sight from the kitchen.
The station.
She leans forward slightly, elbows on the counter. “Yeah,” she says. “We can go again.”
Oliver looks up from his car, gaze moving between his mommy and Enzo. “Go where?”
“The station.” Maya replies. “If Enzo’s mamma is okay with that…” Maya trails off, looking towards Carina as she realizes this is something she should’ve checked first before agreeing to another trip.
Brown eyes meet hers with an easy smile. “We can visit the station again.”
Instantly, Oliver lights up, already bouncing on his toes as he turns back to Enzo. “Awesome! Enzo you can put on my Auntie Vic’s helmet and I can put on Mommy’s!”
“You have to ask her first, probie.” Maya cuts in, though there’s no bite to it.
“I already did!”
The Captain blinks, thrown off for a second. “I- right-”
Carina laughs beside her, shaking her head while the corner of her mouth tugs upward.
Meanwhile, Enzo’s attention shifts back to the photos while he slowly rocks on his feet. There’s a lot of Oliver, and some with Captain Maya too. There’s a picture of an ultrasound, one he recognizes from Mamma’s work, and then he spots the photo next to it.
“Who’s that?” He asks, not looking away.
Maya stills.
It’s small, barely noticeable, but Carina catches it immediately. Her shoulders tightened slightly and her gaze is firmly set on the photo of the ultrasound, Maya and the man.
“That’s my daddy,” Oliver answers easily.
There’s no hesitation, his reply is easy, simple.
She doesn’t move, yet Carina can feel the shift in Maya. The tension, the way she focuses on her breathing.
When she looks back at her son, he just turns his attention back from the picture to Oliver. “Where is he?”
No careful wording, no hesitating. Just a question.
A question Carina has been wanting to find out for weeks, something that somehow, has never come to light or been cleared up when they discussed schedules and families. For weeks she, and Amelia, suspected Jack might have been the father.
It made sense, he’s been at pick-up. He was familiar with the Bishops during the station visit, Maya even talked about Oliver preferring him when it came to playing when he was younger.
But there was never any confirmation, any clear statement of ‘yes Jack is his dad’ never a moment where it appeared Maya was dating him, or anyone for that matter.
They’d never discussed Oliver’s story. Never discussed Lorenzo’s story.
It was clear when she saw the picture earlier that the man mattered in Maya’s, in Oliver’s story. But she hadn’t asked.
“He died,” he states, shrugging his shoulders.
The room doesn’t go silent.
Not completely.
‘Would daddy like spider-man?’
She can place it now, Oliver asking Maya if daddy would like spider-man.
Maya.
She looks over, Maya hasn’t moved, she’s still quiet. She hasn’t shut down, but there’s something held tight in the way she stands, in the way her eyes cloud as her gaze is trained on Oliver.
Lorenzo nods slowly, they don’t discuss death often, but he knows his nonna died when he was just a baby.
“What was his name?” He asks, softer now.
The blond boy looks over to the kitchen, confusion clear on his face. “Mommy… I- I forgot…” his voice is laced with quiet disappointment, his brows knitting together as if he’s hoping to remember if he could just think harder.
Next to her, Maya blinks, releasing a slow exhale.
“Nate,” she says quietly.
She takes another breath, and this time her voice is a little louder, a little steadier, “his name was Nate.”
Lorenzo nods again, and Oliver seems to relax. “I always call him daddy, cus- cus he is. I never met him, but, but I know he liked music. Right mommy?”
“You’re right, probie.”
The records.
It hits Carina in an instant. The cabinets filled with records, clearly loved and well taken care of. The record player that is too dusty for it to fit.
They must have been Nate’s.
There’s no music playing in the house, not like there always is at their own place.
Is it too painful?
“And coffee, mommy says he drank too much coffee.”
Maya huffs softly at that, her shoulders lose some tension, and Carina can see the beginning of a smile tug at her mouth. “I do say that,” she admits.
Oliver turns fully back to Lorenzo now. “Mommy tells me about him,” his voice is steady, clear, like it’s important that he knows. “A lot.”
Maya’s expression softens some more. “Yeah, I do,” she says quietly.
Carina doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t say anything, just watches the three of them while something warm and aching settles in her chest at the same time.
Oliver shifts closer to the wall as he talks, his eyes flicking between the photos and Lorenzo. “So, so now I know how nice he was, and that he really really wanted to meet me and be a dad.”
Next to her, Maya still doesn’t look away, though Carina can see her struggle to swallow.
There’s only a couple of seconds before Oliver brightens. “Enzo! Mommy says he also liked superheroes!”
Lorenzo turns immediately, his attention snapping back to her. “Really, Captain Maya?”
“Really.” She nods once.
Carina sees it.
But she still doesn’t speak up, instead, she steps just a little closer to Maya, her hand goes to Maya’s arm and she squeezes softly.
I see you, I got you.
The blonde stills for half a second at the contact, but she doesn’t pull away. Her gaze shifts back to the wall, to the photos, to Nate caught in moments that don’t exist anymore except like this.
Held still.
Remembered.
No longer making new memories.
Never able to show Oliver the love he once showed her.