Eisenstern 3.10
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We never expect it, but, I wasn’t expecting it, when one morning, Branwen came to find me. She sounded so excited I thought she might have a heart attack or something. ( Thank the ancestors she didn’t. ) Instead, she sat down on the couch, and told me she’s pregnant.
I’m going to be a dad again.
At first, I was excited, but, then I started worrying. Probably, about nothing, but not long after this was when she… Branwen’s not her, and I keep trying to tell myself that, but the doubts, they creep in.
I smiled. “That’s exciting,” I said. “Do you want to leave which gender it is a surprise?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “I kind of want to know because it’d be useful for picking names… your family has naming traditions and stuff, right?”
“We’re on J,” I said. “And, mostly we lean Scandinavian, but there’ve been a few oddballs. Mine, for instance, it’s actually Hebrew. My grandfather’s is Italian, and my mom’s is Latin.”
“Oh,” Branwen said, looking thoughtful. “Well, we have a week to register the name, right? We can think about it even if we leave it a surprise. Do you want to leave it a surprise?”
“I don’t really know either,” I said. “Kind of yes, kind of no.”
“Okay, let’s do this,” she said, and then reached into a pocket, and tossed a coin into the air. “Heads we’ll leave it a surprise.”
We both watched the coin spin around… and then it fell over.
“Heads,” she said, picking it up and showing me.
“Guess we’ll have to decorate the nursery with neutral colours,” I said.
“Well, we should anyway,” Branwen answered, tucking the coin back into her pocket. “I wouldn’t want the baby to feel pressured to be something it isn’t.”
Yeah. … I married the right woman.
Hilda, of course, has a house key, and she just wanders into the house whenever she wants. I’m glad for that. I woke up one morning to find her at the breakfast bar.
“Hey, how are you?” I asked, sitting down.
“Oh, I’m alright,” she said. “Austin’s fretting about everything. I’ll be third trimester soon and he’s taking it worse than I am. How are you?”
“Well… Branwen’s also pregnant,” I said.
“What? Ohh! Oh wait! I’m gonna be an auntie again!” she said, lighting up.
I laughed. “Slow down sis,” I said. “But yes, you’ll be an auntie again.”
“Are you guys picking names or anything?”
“Not yet,” I said. “We’re leaving the baby’s gender a surprise.”
Branwen’s had a lot of success with her streaming thing she does. I catch bits and pieces of it here and there around reading, but I hear she’s gotten a few thousand fans, and when she streams she gets a decently consistent stream of donations. The more fans she gets, the more donations she gets, and the more in donations she gets too.
It’s pretty cool, actually, and she seems to enjoy it.
Soon enough, Hilda went into third trimester.
It was kind of weird, but unsurprisingly, Hilda’s managing pregnancy like a champ. For that matter, so is Branwen. Cassandra whined a lot, but Bran doesn’t seem bothered by it at all. She’s still helping with the dishes around the house, picking up laundry, and making time for me around her streams.
It feels like I’ve been partially in this relationship and partially out of it. I wonder if she’s noticed.
“I’m sorry,” I said one morning, reaching over and pulling Branwen against me.
She seemed a little confused. “For…. what?” she asked.
“I’m still waiting for you to leave,” I said quietly.
She was quiet a moment, but then nudged her head against mine. “I’m not going anywhere,” she said, just as quiet. She nudged us apart, reaching up and cupping my face in her hands. “You gave me something I’ve never had before, I’m not going anywhere.”
I didn’t know what to say. In the end, I said nothing at all, leaning over and resting my forehead against hers.
“But… I should tell you something,” she said.
I backed away, raising an eyebrow at her.
“My mother… um-” she paused, glancing down at the floor. “My grandfather is a vampire, and my mother was a mermaid. She gave up her fins for my father, the way her mother had for my grandfather, but he came to resent her. My sister and I were raised by my grandfather, and then my sister decided to answer the call of the sea. I decided new video game releases called louder. Our baby, they’ll likely be bound to the sea in a way no one else is, and may have scales like I do.”
I frowned. What would that mean for them, I wondered. She seemed to see the question in my eyes, or maybe she just guessed well.
“For my sister and I, it just meant we had to make a choice between staying and returning to the ocean,” Branwen said. “But I don’t know what would happen for a spellcaster child of this baby’s power with mermaid blood. I don’t think they’ll be an outright hybrid, but… maybe a little special.”
I nodded. “I see,” I said. “You have scales?” That was news.
“Yeah,” Branwen said. She moved a little, nudging one of her thigh-high socks down. Shimmery black fish scales were under them. I’d never seen them before, and now I understood why she had such a fascination with socks. “Sometimes I hid them with magic, but they always broke out of it eventually. Merfolk can’t be tamed, I guess.”
I smiled. “Well, neither can Eisensterns,” I said. “Can I?” I asked, reaching for the scales. She nodded once, and very lightly, I ran a hand down her leg. Those really were scales. I’d heard of mermaids before, of course, spellcasters knew about them, and fairies, there were genies somewhere but I’d never met one of those either, Plant Sims, werewolves…
“It’s weird, isn’t it?” Branwen asked.
I shook my head, looking back at her. “They’re beautiful,” I said. “Just like you. Don’t hide them anymore.”
She looked confused, and then smiled. “Okay.”
Sooner than either of us expected, our beautiful little baby girl was born. We decided, a few hours later, to name her Juno. It’s Latin, but we’ve had such a range of odd names in this family anyway, and Branwen and I liked the sound of it. ( If we went Scandinavian, the only ancient Scandinavian J name is Jorunnr. … no. )
She was a very easygoing baby, and her early years passed in what felt like no time. Her grandmothers seem to adore her, but fortunately didn’t need to help during her youngest years as much as with Ivander.
I wonder now if they’ll ever meet each other. Probably not.
She’s still an easygoing toddler, but an absolute bright spot in the day. I’ve, admittedly, been a little more distant from her than I should be, but I’m still, despite her assurances otherwise, expecting to wake up and find Branwen’s gone too. And every morning I wake up and she’s still here, I feel silly about it.
I don’t want to get attached and then lose everything again. Even knowing, logically, that it wasn’t my attachment that made me lose it.
As I asked, Branwen’s been steadily ditching the socks. And just as I have to learn how to trust again, she does too, in a different way. It’s a process. Something that takes a little more time than it feels like it should.
Mom’s still not sure about Bran, but she does at least adore her granddaughter.
Incidentally, someone found the cardboard dollhouse grandpa had built for mom and her siblings when they were toddlers and pulled it out. Turns out our house is haunted, and the ghosts will occasionally destroy it, but fortunately, it’s cardboard and not difficult to fix.
If Juno inherited her mother’s scales, she isn’t showing them yet. Supposedly, she shouldn’t until her teen years. That’s about when her magic would manifest, too. I guess puberty will be a little more difficult for our little girl than for most. But it’ll be okay. Generations of Ciresis and Eisensterns are behind her.
And I hope that in loving her, we can give her the personal strength to stand under the inevitable weight that is on her shoulders.
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