Page 38 of Mafia Pregnancy
Danielle
S unday afternoon arrives with perfect weather that makes staying indoors feel criminal. I meet Carmen at Morrison Park while Leo runs toward the playground equipment with his usual energy. She’s brought tea for both of us and settles onto the bench beside me with comfortable familiarity.
“You look tired,” she says, studying my face with careful attention. “How did your appointment at the clinic go Friday?”
“Fine.” I sip the tea before blurting, “He knows about Leo.” I watch my son climb the jungle gym with fearless confidence. “He told me so.”
Carmen nods slowly, as if she’s been expecting this news. “How did he approach it? Was he angry?”
“Surprisingly gentle, actually.” I take another sip. “He took us to dinner and just...spent time with Leo. He asked questions, listened to his stories, and treated him like he mattered.”
“And that scares you more than if he’d been demanding?”
The perceptiveness in her question makes me pause. Radmir’s patience and genuine interest in Leo makes it harder to maintain my conviction that he’s dangerous for my son. In a strange way, it would have been easier if he’d shown up with lawyers and custody demands.
“He came over last night too, bringing dinner and reading Leo a bedtime story.” I press my hand briefly to my stomach, where the baby is growing larger each day. “Leo drew him a picture and he asked if he could keep it. Radmir acted like it was the most precious thing he’d ever been given.”
“Maybe it was.” Carmen shifts to face me more directly. “Danielle, you can’t keep running from this. The tension of hiding everything is eating you alive, and now that he knows about Leo, what’s the point of keeping the pregnancy secret?”
The question I’ve been avoiding lands with uncomfortable accuracy. Why am I still hiding the baby when the primary secret is already out? The answer feels complicated and tangled with fears I don’t know how to articulate.
“His world isn’t safe, Carmen. You saw what happened with that man breaking into the estate. If I tell him about the baby, if I let him deeper into our lives, I’m putting both children at risk.”
“You were already working at his estate before you knew it was dangerous.” She takes my hand gently. “You recognized him from that night four years ago, and you still chose to keep the job. If you’d planned to tell him about Leo then, why not tell him about the baby now?”
“I didn’t plan to tell him, if you remember.”
She shrugs. “I think staying was always a tacit agreement in the back of your mind. You accepted you’d have to tell him eventually, didn’t you?”
I want to argue with her logic, but I can’t find solid ground to stand on.
The truth is more complicated than safety concerns, though those are real and valid.
Part of me is terrified of how much I want what I glimpsed last night, of family dinners and bedtime stories and someone who thinks Leo’s crayon drawings are masterpieces.
Of a partner, so I’m not doing it all alone.
“I’m scared,” I say quietly. “Not just of the danger, but of hoping for something that might not work out. Leo’s already getting attached to him.
What if Radmir decides we’re too much trouble?
What if his enemies target us anyway? What if I let myself believe we could be a family and then lose everything? ”
She pats my hand. “What if you don’t give it a chance and spend the rest of your life wondering what could have been?”
Before I can respond, Leo calls out from the top of the slide. “Mama, watch me go down backwards.”
“Be careful, sweetheart,” I call back, my attention split between his daredevil antics and the conversation that’s making my chest feel tight.
“How long do you think you can keep hiding the pregnancy?” Carmen’s voice is gentle but persistent. “You’re fourteen weeks now. Soon, it won’t be a choice anymore.”
She’s right, and we both know it. I’ve been wearing looser clothing and avoiding full-body mirrors, but the changes are becoming more obvious each week. The morning sickness has mostly passed, but I’m tired more often, and simple tasks leave me winded in ways even Leo is starting to notice.
“I keep thinking I need more time to figure out how to tell him.” I watch Leo attempt to convince another child to race him down the slides. “Maybe what I really need is courage to just do it.”
She nods, looking completely unsurprised by my revelation. “He’s going to find out eventually. Wouldn’t it be better coming from you than from someone else?”
The possibility Radmir might discover my pregnancy through other means hadn’t occurred to me, but it makes sense.
Soon enough, his own eyes will clue him in if my stomach keeps expanding.
With Leo, I woke up one day at fifteen weeks and was suddenly showing.
I could pop like that with this baby or even sooner.
“I made my mind up before he knew about Leo,” I say slowly, working through my thoughts out loud. “I was going to leave, start over somewhere else, and raise both children away from his world. But now...”
“Now, he’s reading bedtime stories and treating your son like he’s precious.”
“Exactly.” I lean back against the bench, feeling the stress of decisions I’m not ready to make. “My head still says running is the smart choice. My heart is starting to wonder if staying and fighting for something real might be worth the risk.”
Carmen nods with understanding. “What does your gut say?”
I consider this, trying to separate fear from instinct. “My gut says Leo deserves to know his father, and this baby deserves to know both parents from the beginning, but my gut also says Radmir’s world comes with costs I might not be prepared to pay.”
“Those are both true things.” She stands and throws away our empty coffee cups. “You can’t protect your children from every possible harm by keeping them in a bubble. Sometimes, the best protection is making sure they have people who love them enough to fight for them.”
I watch Leo help a smaller child reach the monkey bars, his natural kindness on full display. He’s growing up to be exactly the kind of person I hoped he’d become. Would hiding from Radmir really protect those qualities, or would it teach him that love means running when things get complicated?
“Whatever you decide, I’ll support you,” Carmen continues, “But remember that the deeper this lie gets, the worse the fallout will be when the truth comes out—and it will come out, Danielle. Secrets this big always do.”
She’s right about that too. I’ve been living with these secrets for months, and instead of getting easier to carry, they’re getting heavier.
Each interaction with Radmir feels loaded with things I’m not saying, and I can see him watching me sometimes with questions in his eyes that I pretend not to notice.
“I should probably tell him tonight.” The words come out before I fully realize I’ve made the decision. “Before I lose my nerve again.”
“Do you want me to watch Leo? You might want to have that conversation without little ears around.”
I consider this, then shake my head. “If I’m going to do this, I need to do it honestly. Leo’s part of this family too, and Radmir should understand any decisions about the baby affect him as well.”
We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, watching Leo play with easy joy. He’s completely absorbed in his games, unaware that the adults in his life are making decisions that will reshape his future in ways he can’t understand yet.
A movement in my peripheral vision catches my attention. It’s something that doesn’t quite fit with the normal patterns of the park. I turn my head slightly and catch a glimpse of someone behind the cluster of bushes near the parking lot, but when I look directly at the spot, I don’t see anyone.
The feeling of being watched settles over me like a cold blanket, making the hair on my arms stand up despite the warm afternoon sun. I scan the area more carefully, looking for anything that seems out of place or threatening.
“What’s wrong?” Carmen notices my sudden tension.
“I thought I saw someone watching us from the bushes.” I keep my voice low, not wanting to alarm Leo. “When I looked directly, nobody was there.”
She follows my gaze toward the parking lot. “It could have been another parent or someone walking a dog. People cut through that area all the time.”
“Maybe.” I don’t feel convinced though. Something about the movement felt deliberate, like someone trying to stay hidden rather than someone passing through innocently.
The sense of unease grows stronger as I continue scanning the park.
The families around us seem normal enough.
There are parents pushing children on swings, couples walking dogs, and a few teenagers playing frisbee.
There’s nothing obviously threatening, but I can’t ignore the feeling we’re being observed by someone who doesn’t belong here.
“Leo?” I call out, trying to keep my voice casual despite the anxiety building in my chest. “It’s time to go, sweetheart.”
“Five more minutes?” He looks up from the sandbox where he’s been building elaborate castles with another child. “Please, Mama? We’re not finished with the dragon fortress.”
“We can come back tomorrow and build more castles.” I stand and gather my purse, still scanning the area for signs of whomever might have been watching. “Right now, we need to head home.”
Leo recognizes the tone in my voice that means negotiation isn’t an option. He says goodbye to his new friend and runs over to us, chattering about the architectural details of sandcastle construction.
“Everything okay?” Carmen asks quietly as we walk toward the parking lot.
“Probably just my imagination.” I help Leo into his car seat, but I can’t resist checking the area behind the bushes as we pass. “Maybe pregnancy hormones make you paranoid about everything,” I say with a brittle smile.
“Or being involved with someone in Radmir’s world makes you more aware of potential threats.” She gives me a meaningful look over Leo’s head. “Maybe the feeling of being watched isn’t paranoia.”
The possibility that someone connected to Radmir’s business might be monitoring our activities hadn’t occurred to me, but it makes uncomfortable sense. If his enemies know we matter to him, we could already be targets whether or not I acknowledge it.
“All the more reason to stop pretending we’re not connected to him,” I murmur as I buckle Leo’s seatbelt. “If we’re going to be at risk anyway, we should at least have the benefit of his protection.”
“Now you’re thinking clearly.” She opens her car door. “Call me after you talk to him.”
The drive home passes quickly, with Leo describing his plans for even more elaborate sandcastles and asking if Mr. Radmir might want to help build them someday. His casual inclusion of Radmir in future activities makes it clear yesterday’s dinner made a strong impression.
“Would you like that?” I ask, genuinely curious about his feelings. “Having Mr. Radmir around more often?”
“Yeah! He knows about dinosaurs, and he reads stories with really good voices, and he listens when I talk about important stuff.” Leo kicks his feet against his car seat. “Plus, he makes you smile more.”
The observation catches me unprepared. I hadn’t realized my feelings about Radmir were visible to my three-year-old, but children notice things adults think they’re hiding. “Does he make me smile more?”
“Uh-huh. When he was reading to me last night, you were watching from the doorway and looked happy, like when we have really good days at the park, or when Aunt Molly makes chocolate chip cookies.”
His innocent comparison makes my throat tighten with emotion. Leo associates Radmir with happiness, the feeling of good days, and special treats. How can I take that away from him by insisting we maintain distance for safety reasons that might not even protect us?
Back at the apartment, I help Leo wash the sand off his hands and feet while my mind works through how to approach the conversation with Radmir.
Do I call him and ask him to come over? Do I wait for him to show up again, as he seems inclined to do?
Do I take Leo to the estate and have the conversation on Radmir’s territory?
“Mama, can we call Mr. Radmir and ask if he wants to come for dinner again?” Leo looks up at me with hopeful eyes. “I want to show him the new book Aunt Molly got me about space dinosaurs.”
The suggestion solves my dilemma about how to arrange tonight’s conversation. Leo wants to see Radmir again, and I need to tell him about the baby. Combining those needs makes sense, even if the thought of the conversation makes my palms sweat.
“That’s a good idea, sweetheart. Let me see if he’s available.”
I find Radmir’s number in my phone and take a deep breath before dialing. He answers on the second ring, as if he’s been waiting for my call.
“Danielle?”
“Hi. Leo was wondering if you’d like to come for dinner tonight. He has a new book he wants to show you.” I pause, gathering courage for what I need to add. “And I think we should talk about some things.”
“I’ll be there in an hour.” His response is immediate, with no questions about what we need to discuss. “Should I bring food again, or would you prefer to cook?”
“I’ll cook. It’s nothing fancy, just spaghetti and salad.”
“That sounds perfect. Thank you for calling.”
After I hang up, I stand in my kitchen looking around at the modest apartment that’s been our safe haven for over three years.
The envelope with the baby’s gender results sits on my counter where I left it yesterday, unopened because I already know and had no one else to surprise with it.
Tonight, maybe I’ll find the courage to tell Radmir about his daughter, and together, we’ll start figuring out how to be a family despite all the complications that come with his world.
Leo helps me set the table, chattering about space dinosaurs and asking if I think Mr. Radmir will know about astronauts too. His excitement is infectious, and for the first time in weeks, I feel something like hope building in my chest.
Maybe Carmen is right, and the best protection I can give my children is making sure they have people who love them enough to fight for them. Maybe it’s time to stop running and start fighting for the family we could become.