Work Text:
You wake up to your phone vibrating on the nightstand. You roll over and disconnect it from the charger, bringing it close to your face so you can properly squint at the screen. It takes a second for your eyes to focus, for you to realize the number is coming from overseas. It’s been nearly a month since you left and you were about ready to convince yourself it was all a dream. You clear your throat and slide your thumb across the screen.
“Hello?” you answer, your heart pounding in your chest.
You hear a deep breath on the other end before, “Did you mean it?”
You exhale; it’s her.
“Hello Esti. No ‘hello, how are you?’ One month of freedom and you’ve lost all your manners,” you joke, deflecting without thought.
You can hear her roll her eyes. “Did you mean it? You said that I should come to New York and be with you.” She has found her voice and it makes your heart swell. “I had to get everything sorted out with Dovid, but I’m ready now, so I just need to know if you meant it or not.”
It would be so easy for you to lie, to say that you were caught up in the moment and maybe it wasn’t such a great idea. She’s pregnant after all and you never wanted to be a mother. Wouldn’t it just be complicated?
Does it matter? You must be running out of chances at this point.
“Yes,” you say. “Come be with me.”
Esti has been in New York for nearly three months. It’s time for another doctor’s appointment, and while you’re happy to go, you have reservations. You aren’t sure what your role will be in this child’s life, nor are you sure what you want it to be. Esti has made it clear that she wants to stay with you and Dovid has been supportive of her wishes. You are still unsure about being a mother.
At the doctor’s office, they treat you like you’re married and neither one of you bothers correcting anyone. It’s easier than explaining the situation. Besides, you notice that Esti smiles every time you are referred to as her wife.
When she first arrived, you offered her the guest bedroom and she scoffed before kissing you. “I didn’t come to New York to sleep in your guest room,” she told you.
After that, her life quickly intertwined with yours; she re-organized your kitchen and closets and you helped her get a substitute teaching license. She taught you how to cook all the food you’ve been missing since you left home all those years ago and both your belly and your heart are content.
The love that the two of you have always shared is finally allowed to bloom now that it is not hidden in the shadows. You learn what it means to support each other. You show her photos from the projects you’re working on and she tells you of the schools she’s been to and which ones she would like to work at after the baby is old enough. You worry that a baby is too much too soon.
The sonogram technician comes and goes quickly, squirting gel on Esti’s stomach and getting everything ready for the doctor. You sit down next to her and hold her hand, comparing the image on the screen to the different fruits and vegetables you see each week at the farmer’s market. The baby’s heartbeat whirs as Esti laughs.
When the doctor comes in, she gets straight to the point, your favorite quality about her. “Everything is progressing nicely. I don’t have any concerns at this time,” the doctor says. “Would you like to know the sex?”
Esti nods immediately. You squeeze her hand and she squeezes back.
“It’s a girl,” the doctor announces, and Esti bursts into tears that leave her gasping for air.
The doctor quietly exits the room and you press a long kiss into Esti’s forehead. “A girl,” you whisper, tears forming in your eyes.
“Kismet,” she chokes out between sobs. “It is fate. I left so that she could be free.” She is staring at the monitor, at the little black and white blob that is forming into the little girl who will have more choices than her mother ever dreamed of.
You smile and let go of whatever stupid notions you had of not being a mother. You feel it fiercely in your chest. This little girl will grow up free and yours.
Your daughter is born on a cloudless day in the fall, with a full head of dark hair and a vice grip on any finger she can get ahold of. Dovid had flown in three nights before and stayed for nearly a month after. He returns home, but with Esti’s blessing, begins looking for jobs in America. Now that she is here, he does not want to be so far from his daughter. The three of you were inseparable growing up and will become inseparable again as parents.
After she is born, Dovid asks her name. You smile and Esti tells him, “Ruth.”
“She got to choose,” he replied, nodding. “Hello, Ruth.”
At home, you discover that Ruth loves The Cure as much as you do. When she starts to fuss, you press her to your chest and hum “Lovesong” to her. The first time Esti discovers you doing this, she cries and kisses you all over your face. When she pulls away, Ruth’s hair is wet and you both laugh.
“I never thought I would have this,” she admits. “I never thought we would have this.”
“I know,” you say, placing Ruth in her bassinet. You wrap your arms around Esti and feel her, solid against you. You press your forehead to hers and in an instant feel all the love and tenderness the two of you share. Esti holds you tighter, whispering how much she loves you and you let the tears fall. For much of your life, you tried to push your feelings away, assuming they made you weak and vulnerable. Now you know the opposite is true. To feel, to love, is to be free.
One day, you come home from a shoot and Esti is lying with Ruth on the couch. Something is different, but you can’t put your finger on what. It’s a hot summer day and the air conditioner decided to stop working last week and no one can come for another two days. Maybe it’s just the haze of the late afternoon heat.
“Hi,” you say, leaning over the couch to kiss Esti. “How was she today?”
You pick Ruth up and begin bouncing her around the living room. Esti starts to tell you about their day, but you cut her off when you realize what is different. “Are you wearing a t-shirt?” you ask, surprised.
You know the answer is yes; she is wearing an old white shirt of yours. It’s nothing special, just a small logo of a camera store on the right breast; she must have grabbed it from the bottom of the drawer. Still, you revel in the sight of her bare arms. This is a sight you never thought you would see, Esti in your clothes. You quite like it.
Esti has remained frum since she came to New York. When she first arrived, you asked her if she would like to get some new clothes and she declined. The decision was hers to make and you didn’t push it any further. She stopped wearing a wig shortly before Ruth was born, but her clothes continued to be modest.
“I was hot,” she explained. “Sorry, I should have asked before taking your things.”
You sit down next to her and glide your free hand up her arm. Esti is a sight to behold in your cotton t-shirt. “You can take whatever you want, darling,” you say, pressing your lips to hers.
Dovid asks Esti to fly to London and help him pack up what remains of their old home. He doesn’t think it will take more than two or three days, but buys her a ticket for five, just in case. Esti insists on taking Ruth and you don’t argue. You are exhausted from some freelance work you picked up at a magazine with a demanding editor and unreasonable expectations. You welcome the break and plan on sleeping in every day.
You take them to the airport and even go all the way to the security line before saying goodbye.
“Be a good girl for Mum,” you tell Ruth, giving her a big kiss on the forehead.
“I love you,” you press a kiss into Esti’s temple. She turns and captures your lips with hers. “I love you too.”
It’s late and you’re tired when you get home, but you can’t fall asleep. This is the first time you’ve slept alone since Esti arrived over a year ago. The bed feels empty and too big. You wander into the living room and turn on the TV, hoping it will lull you to sleep.
When you wake, you have a text from Esti saying they arrived safely. There’s a picture of Ruth sleeping on the plane and you are relieved that she wasn’t a terror. You immediately call, desperate to hear Esti’s voice.
“Hello, my darling,” she answers.
“Esti,” is all you can think to say.
“Is everything alright?” she asks.
“Yes, yes. I just hate being away from you.”
You listen to her tell you how good Ruth was on the plane and that everyone is being polite and there’s no need to worry. It’s rash and maybe stupid, but after you’ve showered, you go to a jeweler and pick out a ring. It’s modest, you know Esti would never want something flashy, but it has a small diamond in the middle of a twist and it’s perfect.
When the time comes, you go back to the airport. You get there well over an hour early so you can meet Esti at baggage claim. You feel tears well up in your eyes when you see them and you become one of those people who makes a scene at the airport. There is running and crying and kissing. You are immediately flooded with a sense of relief and all you want is to go home and hold Esti close and tell her how much you hate the Atlantic Ocean. She’ll laugh and tell you that however far away, she will always love you.
There’s a ring in a box in your nightstand. It’s not the time yet, but one day soon, you will ask and you know she will say yes.