Chapter 9 - MAYA ASKED IF I WOULD EVER GET MARRIED AGAIN
Three years passed.
Maya turned ten.
She slept.
Ate.
Argued.
Left socks everywhere.
Perfectly irritating.
I returned to work gradually.
Fewer hours.
Not because all ambitious parents are bad.
Because I had built my schedule around the assumption somebody else would handle emotional life at home.
I stopped doing that.
My firm adjusted.
I lost one promotion opportunity.
Fine.
Then I met Anna Brooks.
School librarian.
Not through Maya.
Important.
At a charity legal clinic board meeting.
Anna was divorced.
One teenage son.
Funny.
Direct.
We dated for eight months before Maya met her.
I told Maya first.
“There’s someone I like.”
She stared.
“Is she moving in?”
“No.”
“Are you marrying her?”
“No.”
“Does she like clean floors?”
I almost choked.
“She has two dogs.”
Maya considered.
“Okay.”
First meeting:
Ice cream.
One hour.
Anna did not bring a gift.
Did not say:
“I’ve heard so much about you.”
Did not perform motherhood.
She asked Maya:
“What flavor?”
Maya:
“Cookie dough.”
Anna:
“Correct.”
Good start.
Months later, Maya asked Anna:
“Do you want to be my mom?”
I froze.
Anna answered perfectly.
“No.”
Maya stared.
Anna continued:
“You already have a mom.”
Then:
“I’d like to be Anna, if that’s okay.”
Maya looked at me.
Then:
“Okay.”
I fell in love with Anna harder that day.
Still did not propose.
Slow.
Two years later, Maya asked me:
“Are you going to marry Anna?”
“Maybe.”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.”
“Then why don’t you?”
I laughed.
“Because she gets a vote.”
Maya nodded.
“Good.”
When I eventually asked Anna, she said yes.
Before wedding planning, we discussed:
Finances.
Parenting.
Discipline.
Privacy.
Maya’s trust.
Anna refused any trustee or guardian authority initially.
I said:
“You don’t have to refuse because of Vanessa.”
“I’m not.”
“Then why?”
“Because Maya already has structures.”
Good.
My sister Claire remained guardian recommendation.
Independent bank remained trustee.
Anna did not need authority to prove love.
That was new.
We married when Maya was twelve.
Small ceremony.
Maya wore blue.
Not flower girl.
She said she was “too old for petals.”
Fair.
During vows, I did not promise Anna she would “complete our family.”
We were already a family.
She joined it.
Different.
Afterward, Maya spilled sparkling cider on the reception floor.
She froze.
For half a second.
Then looked at me.
I lifted one eyebrow.
She grinned.
“Floor has a story.”
Exactly.
We wiped it.
Five minutes.
May you like
Done.
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