Chapter Text
“Te gusta la musica, pequenas?” Agustin cooes at the babies in his arms. He twirls around and Mariana and Alessandra, displaying their newest milestones, bless him with gummy grins. He sighs, “What beautiful girls you are! I miss when my daughters were little like you.”
Dolores stands in the doorway, admiring the scene. Her tio is dancing with her babies to an opera on the phonograph just like he did with Isabela and Dolores when they were small. She smooths her hair, feeling much better after her short break from the twins but guilty at needing time away. She hurries forward, arms outstretched.
Agustin smiles at her, winking as he says, “You sure you want them back?”
“Yes, please,” Dolores says, taking her babies from him, “Thank you for watching them while I took a bath.”
“It's a wonderful time but I remember the sleeplessness and crying too,” Agustin says, stroking Mariana’s hair, “If you ever need me, I’m here to help.”
“Thank you, Tio,” Dolores says, “You’re the best. The girls love you.”
“They love Alessandra’s Balad more I think,” Tio Agustin says, gesturing towards the phonograph which is playing an opera which is painfully familiar to Dolores.
“Really? You have the same name as this pretty song, mi corazon?” Dolores says to her little daughter, which earns Dolores another bright smile, “I feel like I’ve heard it before but - ”
“Well, Mariano has definitely heard it before. He played it all the time when he first moved in. I assumed it was why you chose the name you did for the little one,” Agustin says, “I love it too. It’s quite beautiful. Even if you can’t speak Italian, you can sense the - ”
“Longing,” Dolores says, suddenly remembering where she heard the song before. “Thank you again, Tio. I have to go!” She races up the stairs without looking back, lest he see her blushing.
Her husband is working on a watch at his desk but he puts down his tools when he hears her come in. His face breaks into a big smile when he sees them, “What a wonderful surprise - ”
“Where did you get Alessandra’s name?” Dolores demands, “I assumed it was from one of your books but - ” She sighs, “I’m wrong, aren’t I?”
He glances down at their babies and even though they are only a few months old and wouldn’t remember this - and are even sleeping now to boot - he whispers, “There was a song that was playing downstairs, the first time we made love - ”
“Oh god,” Dolores says. She remembers it now. The phonograph playing in the kitchen. Isabela told Dolores to go upstairs because Mariano was sneaking into the house. The sweaty, messy, passionate exchange in her room. Dolores looks at her daughter, “I’m so sorry baby girl. Not only did we almost make you a bastard, we also named you after the song that was playing when your father deflowered me and possibly the day we conceived you too.”
Mariano somehow thinks it’s a good idea to say, “I lost my virginity that day too!”
“Agustin said you listened to it on repeat,” Dolores says, “With my family in the house?”
Mariano opens and closes his mouth, “Sometimes, when I really missed you - ”
Dolores puts a hand over his mouth, “Her name is Alessandra. It’s too late to change it. But on our children’s lives, you have to promise me, you will never repeat this story.”
He nods and she pulls her hand away, “It’s not just a delicious memory for me, mi vida. It’s also the day we became a family.”
Dolores opens her mouth to respond and then has to turn away to hide her smile. Mariano’s tone and expression are so genuine. How does she love this man? “I’m going to go feed our babies. Remember your promise.”