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Hello!
My name is Maria and I’m from Italy. I love music and I’m learning how to play piano. I have never been to the United States but I would love to see New York one day. Have you ever been to Europe? What are your hobbies?
I’m looking forward to hearing from you.
Love, Maria.
One day Maria would look back at that postcard and cringe. On the back of it there was an address, in Ohio, of one Rebecca Walters, and the front was a generic touristic picture of the Trevi Fountain. Her message was so basic and uninteresting it could very well be an example from the textbook. It was a wonder it didn’t end with Rebecca’s equally textbook reply. But it didn’t. Because Rebecca sent back an envelope, and in the envelope was an empty postcard with a picture of the Empire State Building, and a long letter on worn checkered paper. Rebecca had never been outside of the United States, not even outside Ohio, really. She hoped she and Maria could both see New York one day. Maybe together. She asked about music and talked about how she loved science but never really got to pursue that passion.
And Maria, delighted, wrote back.
It was 1993 when Rebecca’s fiance got a computer and Maria begged her parents to get one too, but they insisted it was stupid. So Maria took bored tourists on trips around Pisa the whole summer, repeating the same fake legends over and over, and in the evening she served pizza at Luca’s place, and in September, she sent Rebecca her e-mail address. After the letter finally reached the American coast, Rebecca’s e-mail was in her inbox in less than two hours.
You could say it revolutionized their relationship, except for that tiny detail that Rebecca was engaged to a man, and didn’t know Maria was bisexual.
Still, what started as a compulsory high school penpal project, continued all through Maria’s university years, and there was not a day they didn’t exchange long messages. They ended up sharing their life stories, and interests, and little things that happened. Maria was slightly besotted and slightly annoyed that Brian existed but also even if she knew she didn’t really know him, she didn’t like Brian, not just on principle but based on everything she read in Rebecca’s stories.
Rebecca was not from a rich family, and apparently studying in the USA cost a lot more than it did in Italy, because she was currently working as a waitress while Brian was applying for a PhD, because Brian was already a physicist and could afford to keep studying too. Maria hated him a bit for being able to get everything she knew Rebecca dreamt of, especially since he didn’t seem to share long talks about science with her. From what she could gather, he didn’t seem to share much at all, except his living place and apparently, future, with Rebecca.
Dearest Maria,
I am delighted to hear about your graduation. I am certain you will one day become a famous pianist and maybe I will get to see you in concert. Your fame will be heard about all over the world and men, women and children will love to hear your music. There will be a rain of roses on stage every time you appear, looking beautiful in a white dress, sitting to the black piano, with your lips painted red, like a perfect picture.
And I will be in the first row, listening, and when it’s over, I will stand up and clap the hardest. Then it’s going to be over and people will leave whispering among each other how great you were but only I will get to go backstage and hug you, with your smudged mascara and tired smile, and we will walk out barefoot, high heels abandoned, and buy slices of pizza and eat them on the beach.
I don’t know if you have any concert halls near the sea, but I would like that.
I hope you’re in good health and settling in to real adult life well.
Love, Rebecca.
Maria sighed, leaving the computer running and throwing herself on her bed. God, she was so in love it was embarassing. But this was exactly what the problem was, those soft and intimate and oh so visual messages. She couldn’t help but notice Brian wasn’t with Rebecca in that fantasy and she felt both sweet vindication and bitter anger at that. With every new e-mail, every query Maria made about Brian, she felt like Rebecca avoided answering, changed topics subtly, was hiding something that clearly wasn’t good.
Ever since mamma died last year, Maria was all alone around here, lonely in a big house falling apart, the last of the Carbonell, and her closest friend an American woman she never met. But Rebecca wasn’t just some American woman. She was Maria’s, and she was the person who consoled her the most after mamma’s death, and she was her biggest cheerleader all through those trying times attempting not to drown in the big bad world she had to walk through alone. Even without being there, Rebecca always helped Maria when she needed her the most.
And now she felt like Rebecca may need her in turn, but she had no idea how to even begin to try, knowing she couldn’t be there, and starting to realize something was stopping Becky from asking. She was at a loss, but she wasn’t going to stop trying.
One day, they would go to New York together.
And if Maria had any say in it, Brian would not be with them.
***
Maria was staring at the golden envelope in her hands, knowing full well what it was. It was from Ohio and it was the first real letter she got from Rebecca in years, even if it was not really a letter. Even if she had money to travel there, even if she could take leave from work (the glory and fame of playing to evening pizza), even if it felt like a betrayal... she knew she wouldn’t go anyway. Rebecca probably knew too. Maria didn’t open the wedding invitation. Instead she opened her e-mail and read about the preparations, and Rebecca actually seemed rather excited for once, and Maria was glad, she really was. She smiled, tears flowing down her face.
Rebecca got a camera as a wedding present, and with the next e-mail, she sent a picture of herself in the wedding dress. Just herself, without Brian, and Maria frowned again, and tried not to read too much into it. Becky looked like a princess, and Maria asked Luca to print the picture for her, and kept it in her wallet.
There was one good thing that came out of Brian.
His name was Robert Bruce - Robert after Brian’s father, and Bruce because Rebecca wanted it. He weighted six pounds, or three kilograms, Rebecca helpfully provided, and that meant he was small. He was precious, and tiny, and he cried a lot but Rebecca didn’t mind. She was awake at night a lot because of that and as a result they ended up chatting in real time, because timezones didn’t matter to Bruce. The camera was used mostly to take pictures of him. Maria printed one of those too, of when Bruce was two and a half and got an erector set, and he managed to build it all by himself. He was such a smart little boy.
That night, when Maria was preparing for work, brand new red dress she got herself from last paycheck, she overheard there was a new person in town. It was not often people visited here, everyone staying in Rome and Pisa instead, let alone someone moving in. But apparently some American millionaire weapons manufacturer just bought himself the old villa, here in tiny Calci, and he was going to come around to the pizzeria tonight, to mingle with the locals, if the gossip Sofia provided is accurate. And Sofia’s gossip was always accurate.
She was curious, like everyone is, of course. But she didn’t allow herself to admit really, her heart was beating faster when she hears the words American. It had been weeks now without Rebecca replying to Maria’s e-mails.
***
“Your English is very good. Where have you learned it?”
She wanted to roll her eyes. She was European, not savage, who the hell did he think he was? She didn’t want to admit none of her classmates talked as well as she did, because none of them spent hours in the library perfecting their skills for their penpal.
“It’s something I’m passionate about. You could say I’m self-taught. Hopefully I will get to use it someday when travelling.”
She smiled at him, in what she hoped was a seductive way. She was very bisexual, and very in love, and a part of her didn’t want to admit it to herself, but Howard was quite handsome. The very thought felt like betraying Rebecca and wow, wasn’t that crazy? Rebecca was married, had a kid, and may very well be straight. Maybe, just maybe, Howard was actually what she needed to get over this mess. And if she got to go to America by chance… It was only for the better, right?
“And where, pray tell, would you like to travel?”
His smile screamed bad boy, womanizer and summer love. But even if it wouldn’t last, it’s been too long since she had something good for herself.
“New York” she purred in his ear and allowed herself to be lost in the taste of his lips, expensive wine and cigars, when he finally kissed her.
Apparently, a one night stand with the girl playing to his meal wasn’t something casual for Howard Stark. Maria was hoping for more, prepared for a fight and expecting to be dumped, but instead, he seemed to have decided they were dating now. He quickly arranged for her to be off work, which she was sure involved what could only be called a bribe, and started driving her around with him as he visited Rome and Pisa and Lucca. He would pay her for visits to beautician and wellness complexes and stylist shopping trips when he was in meetings, and all she had to do was look beautiful and occasionally go with him to some gala full of good food, and dance and smile.
Howard was rich. He was arrogant, full of himself, and a bit of an asshole. And, as much as Maria hated that fact, he was also really goddamn charming - and he was smart. Howard was an engineer - he didn't technically have a degree, but he had his Big American Dream story and listening to him, it was hard not to fall for it at least a little bit. Having inherited some money from his absent father, he went from a simple electrician to the biggest weapons' manufacturer in America, building his company from scratch in order to protect the national heroes of his country's army. It all sounded very glorious when he talked about it with potential investors, and very funny when Maria has seen his Captain America boxer shorts before and knew he was just a big child with a gun. That seemed to be something Americans liked though - not big children, but superheroes and guns, and as such Howard was considered an influential figure even if his idol was a long-dead soldier in colourful tights.
Maria didn't quite understand America. Howard's stories were very different from Becky, but both of them were at times very different from her life. But also, as she already realized, Howard was rich. Not just rich, like Luca, who had his own pizzeria and a big car and a house with a pool. Rich like all the new dresses Maria didn't have to pay for, and hotels with the view of the Colosseum, and a yacht.
Oh God, a real yacht. Which was not just a boat, but a huge ship, and could apparently sail straight to the USA. Maria was currently sunbathing on the deck of this yacht, the two of them (and a few dozen crew people) docked in the middle of the open sea not far off Amalfi coast. Maria has never been to the Amalfi coast but she had to admit it was quite different to her home. The roads seemed incredibly inconvenient, however.
"What's going on in your head, gorgeous?"
She couldn't help a smile that crept onto her face as strong hands touched her back, messaging more sun oil and bringing absolute bliss. Howard was clearly an absolute master of seduction, and she found herself one of his willing victims.
"Absolutely nothing. Lovely, isn't it?"
He laughed, strangely loud and genuine after she was used to his business smiles. He was, with all of his money and glory and ego, still just a man, and sometimes she surprised herself when she saw it.
"I'm going back to California, bella... The contract is signed and as lovely as your country is, I have my duties. It's a horrible privilege, being an owner of a company this big."
Her breath caught, her brain in the overdrive. So here it was. The moment he took her out for one last dinner and left her with the memories and pretty dresses? She needed to convince him to take her with him. She needed him to let her stay.
“What if you came with me?”
She turned around, to lay on her back, his face above hers, surprise in her eyes and… hope? Was it hope he was looking at her with? It didn’t matter. This was what Maria wanted. It was crazy, and stupid, and possibly cold-hearted and calculating. She didn’t love him, but it was fine, wasn’t it? Because she was pretty sure he didn’t love her either. What they had, it was shallow romance, not love. He needed a beautiful, foreign wife, and she needed to go to America chasing silly notions.
But what was there to lose? She had no one left home that she would miss, and worst case, Howard would give her life full of money and luxury.
She lifted herself on her elbow and dragged him in for a kiss, long, passionate, and hopefully clear.
“Non vorrei altro, mio caro. There is nothing I would like more, my dear.”
If that made her a gold-digger, so be it. Those who claimed it was low life simply had never been given a chance like that.
***
As she stood in the dusty rooms, Maria found herself questioning her choices for the first time. It was strange. She didn’t regret them, per se. Truth be told, the dust was gathering for months now as she was left all alone in a house too big for her and too empty. She wouldn’t be selling it. Howard enjoyed the idea of having more than one summer house in Italy, and she was glad for that. She knew, deep down, she needed some sort of insurance in case her own American Dream blew up in her face.
She didn’t have much. Mostly clothes, a pasta maker and some beloved bowls she refused to leave behind. And the piano, but the piano was staying. Two suitcases in all, and anything else she needed Howard would buy her once they arrived in California. Including a piano. He promised her a grand piano, and she was both intimidated by the cost and giddy with excitement. It was an unspoken agreement between them, that they would get married, although he didn’t propose yet, so it was fine because his money would be her money. Sometimes Maria thought that Howard liked the fact she had no real ties here. It was her home but there was no family, no commitment. She wasn’t sure why he was happy with it, but she accepted it. There was a lot about Howard she didn’t understand.
She was scared. She didn’t allow herself to stop and think about it until now, until the boat would be leaving in the evening, until everything was finalized, and decided and real but she was scared. It was one thing to acknowledge that she was left alone and drifting and Calci had nothing more to offer for her, but another thing entirely to just leave behind the only life she had ever known on essentially a whim. She got to know Howard over the weeks, she liked him, genuinely, even if he was an asshole, but there were so many ways this could go wrong.
But being scared was fine, wasn’t it?
You couldn’t go through life without ever being scared. All big things were scary and risky, and that was what made them worth it.
Howard entered from the garden side, admiring the grounds while Maria finished packing and securing some things.
“Ready, mi amore?”
She laughed at his poor accent and kissed him as a different man walked in and grabbed her suitcases. Their chauffeur. Still not something Maria was used to, but undeniably convenient.
“Non sarò mai pronto, ma va bene così. Let’s go. My American Dream is waiting, my love!”
At least California has an acceptable climate. She always said she dreamt of visiting New York, but from Howard’s stories, living there was not for her warm-blooded self.
***
Howard proposed three months after they settled in, with a ring that was worth over ten thousand dollars and made Maria nervous to wear it, and the grand piano. Their house was beautiful. An ultra-modern mansion on the cliffside, with a view of the ocean, which reminded Maria of home despite the fact she didn’t live at the shore in Italy. She loved that she could just grab a towel and go down to the beach, although she hated that the water was cold. The house was huge. Their bedroom itself was as big as some apartments Maria had seen in Rome, and they both had their own space, something she found she appreciated a lot. Howard had a whole workshop in the basement, and a garage for several cars, while Maria had a whole second floor with a musical studio, an additional bedroom and a few other empty rooms. And in the middle of the studio, for three months, was a little raised platform, a central and empty pedestal, where that night, she walked in to find the piano.
On top of it stood a bottle of champagne and two glasses, and Howard knelt in front of it with a ring.
She said yes, and she was genuinely happy.
That night, she and Howard made love, and she realized, for the first time since she met him, that he was good. That he was right for her. He was an asshole, and sometimes she wanted to slap him, but that was just how people worked. Sometimes she got mad at Rebecca too. There was no way around it. Howard was initially just a means to an end, just a way to pass the time and have fun, but with the engagement ring on her finger, satisfied and naked, lying by his side, she realized she no longer felt that way. If this was to be her life for the rest of her days, she would be happy.
She told Howard the next day that she wanted to invite Rebecca. Not that she was in love with her, although it was still true, but also not something you should tell your husband to be. But she didn’t have family left that she wanted to invite, or any friends she knew well enough to ask to cross the ocean for it. Rebecca was the only person she was close enough to invite and lived on the right continent for it. The only problem was that Rebecca was ignoring Maria’s messages for months now, but she didn’t mention it.
She still had Rebecca’s old address, from when they first exchanged their postcards, but she had no idea if it would be any good. Rebecca was married now, she probably didn’t live there anymore - but Maria didn’t have another address or even Becky’s and her husband’s new surname to try and find her that way. So she addressed the wedding invitation to the old address, praying that Becky’s family still lived there and would get it to her.
When two weeks later the envelope came back unopened, and just hoped it was because there was no one left in that house who knew Rebecca, and not a sign.
***
A part of Maria knew she should give up, and stop obsessing over searching for a woman who probably didn’t even want to be found. But there was another part of her that knew Becky wouldn’t do that. A part of her that told her to keep looking, that pointed out that Rebecca didn’t just disappear one day, that there were clues all over their emails that something was wrong, and Maria owed it, to herself, and to Becky, and if something was truly wrong, then to little Robert Bruce too, to find out what the truth was.
If Rebecca really didn’t want Maria in her life, she could tell her to her face.
But it was easy to make determined resolutions, and harder to follow through. Maria did find the phone number to the house Rebecca lived in, eventually. She called twice before someone eventually answered, and her heart skipped a beat once she heard a female voice on the other end but the woman was a new owner. She bought the house from a lovely young woman called Rebecca when her mother died and she moved out with her fiance. She didn’t have her current contact, or address, and didn’t remember her last name, even before getting married. It was another dead end.
She could try looking for couples called Rebecca and Brian but she didn’t even know how to. She looked up physics professors from Ohio named Brian, but turns out there were plenty of different institutions and types of physics, and people named Brian, and rarely any information about their marital status.
Eventually, Maria gave up, at least for the moment, and decided to focus on the wedding instead.
And finally she understood why Rebecca was so excited about that.
Her and Howard's relationship was… complicated. She wasn't sure if she would have wanted to marry him if he wasn't rich, American and a means to her ends, but she came to love him in her own way, and the prospect of getting married at all, no matter whom to, was thrilling on its own.
And all the more so considering Howard was, indeed, rich, and she could really let go and just get whatever she wanted.
No dress was too expensive, no venue too large, no food too fancy.
She didn't have many guests on her side - those present where mostly Howard's family and associates. But it was still a huge party, and it was all for her, and she was going to prepare like the princess she was. She wasn’t immune to childhood dreams of white dresses and true love. Maybe Howard wasn’t exactly how she imagined true love to look like - but her dress was bloody gorgeous.
When the day came, Rebecca wasn’t there, and the man at the altar wasn’t exactly her prince charming (but he was bloody charming, and the closest America had to a prince) - it was nothing like Maria ever imagined her wedding to be, but it was perfect in its own way. She thought, once, that maybe this was going to be something she would only have in her dreams, but here she was, everyone’s eyes on her, Howard’s smirk ever-present but the twinkle in his eye genuine, and maybe for the first time since coming to America, Maria felt secure in having a life she could be happy living.
You don’t always get what want, but you can learn to appreciate what you get.
And Howard was really good in bed.
And rich. And he didn’t make her sign a prenup and it made her feel like he actually wanted her, and like this wouldn’t all end in a tragedy.
They went on a honeymoon to the Maledives, and Maria had to say that as much as she loved her home country, those beaches really were something else. And then they came back, and Howard got back into business, and she was once again mostly alone in a huge, lavish house, trying not to think about what she was doing and looking for someone she should have given up on long ago.
Then again, nothing about how Maria felt about Rebecca was close to any “should-haves”.
***
Maria’s life as a Stark would probably be perfectly comfortable, but also very lonely if not for one Margaret Carter.
“Call me Peggy.” She said, when they first met, Howard introducing his new wife to a coworker and dear friend, and ever since Maria finally felt a bit less alone in this big, new life.
And if there was anything she realized about Peggy Carter in the short time she knew her, it was that nothing could really hide from the woman. Which meant Peggy was both her best shot at getting a clue about Becky’s location and the biggest opponent of the idea. Peggy was Howard’s friend first, and she would most certainly see it as a betrayal if she knew the extent of her feelings.
But she didn’t need to know everything. She just needed to know the truth. All Maria dreamed of was nothing but an elaborate fantasy. She wasn’t actually planning to leave Howard and run away with a woman and half of his money. She was just concerned for a friend and her family. She just wanted to know what happened to Becky.
She told Peggy about the letters, and buying her first computer, and showed her a picture of Becky in the wedding dress and of little Bruce. Peggy agreed that Rebecca was beautiful, and she seemed slightly suspicious, but Maria saw that she could tell it was genuine concern and it was good to tell someone, to just have someone else, another woman she could lean onto, sitting together on the couch and drinking mojitos. She never really had friends like that.
And Peggy said she’d help, that she’d look into it, and although she didn’t know her all that well she knew that if she couldn’t do it, no one could.
Life was good.
And then she started getting sick.
***
Maria was never a sickly person. She acclimated to California’s climate pretty well too, and she didn’t eat anything unusual recently, so the nausea and vomiting that plagued her recently was a mystery. She was considering if she should go see a doctor - she heard that visits were expensive in the States, but she was pretty rich now - she was just intimidated by the paperwork and slightly scared of what she’d hear. She mentioned it offhandedly in a conversation with Peggy and just got a strange look and reassurance that she didn’t need to worry.
Peggy showed up at their house the next day after Howard left for work and handed her a bag with pregnancy tests. Maria sat down, processing how obvious the signs were now that it was pointed out to her.
They have, unsurprisingly, came back positive. All three she had done. She suddenly felt strangely young, like a teenager who forgot to use protection. But she wasn’t. She was an adult, she was married. They didn’t plan it, and she never considered if she wanted kids, but…
She had no idea if Howard wanted kids.
Mamma mia. This was all a lot to take in. Peggy was holding her up, silent and supportive as she allowed her to think.
“This is good, right?” She turned to her friend, although maybe Peggy wasn’t the one who would have the answer to that.
“Yeah, yeah it is!” Peggy hugged her tighter, a pillar of comfort.
As she calmed down, accepted the news, she stopped being anxious about Howard’s reaction, instead anticipating his return. She thought of Rebecca sending her pictures of little Robert Bruce putting together an erector set and imagined a boy as smart as Howard, with her eyes and his confidence, and she found herself tentatively excited.
She met Howard in the doorway that day - definitely unusual for her, and he smiled suspiciously, clearly knowing she had to have a reason.
“What’s got you so excited?” He asked her, leaning into the kiss she drew him into. She eventually pulled away, smiling impishly, and started walking towards the kitchen to allow him to undress.
“Just thinking about life. This little family we created here, being all grown up, with a house, a husband, a child we’re having…”
Howard dropped his briefcase, metal trinkets scattering around as he scrambled with them and her words. She laughed.
***
Shock factor aside, which he huffed at her about for days, Howard ended up much more excited about the news than she expected him to be. He already had their kid’s future all planned out, best education and taking over the company - it was quite adorable.
He paid for the best doctors to see to her, but he wasn’t there for her appointments. He couldn’t become less busy just because he was supposed to be a father. That’s not how business worked, he said. She didn’t focus on it much. She had furnished their house on her own and she didn’t look for any more input from Howard on the nursery or other baby shopping. She couldn’t know the gender yet this early, but that wouldn’t stop her making plans and buying tiny shoes and unisex outfits.
They were all so incredibly tiny. It was hard to believe how little they would be after they were born, but then again, they literally fit inside her right now. She knew, in theory, that this was all pretty basic biology and normal, and many women went through it, but to her it was all new and magical.
Magical, and really bloody nauseating in the beginning. And tiring. And painful at times. When people on TV talked about the miracle of birth, they rarely mentioned the side effects of the magic.
But even so, it was worth it.
She lay down in their bed at night, her bump growing, becoming noticeable, and she’d fall asleep with her hand on it, sometimes fingers tangled with Howard’s, and she thought what would they would be like.
She almost forgot about Becky, focused on the baby instead.
Almost.
***
It is always a thing in the books Maria read. The Day. The day the main character’s entire life changed. She found it awfully convenient, once, that all those life changing events would often occur at once. A narrative device, nothing more.
How awfully convenient.
It was a Tuesday. Howard had a meeting planned in San Francisco and she was supposed to go with him, have a little outing together while he dealt with business. She was packed already, the car prepared to leave in the afternoon, Jarvis cooking dinner already as she spent the morning not doing much of anything as Howard hid himself in the workshop finishing whatever he needed.
Peggy arrived at around noon, and Maria didn’t think anything of it at first, because she was supposed to drop something off for Howard, and visited her often enough anyway, but Peggy approached her, with a folder in hands and a serious expression and a request to talk.
So in a way, as awfully convenient as it seemed, it really was that day when everything changed, Maria would think back later. The folder had contact info, an address, and a photo. Brian, his smug annoying face Maria saw for the first time, and still immediately disliked. Rebecca, not smiling like her husband, a bit to the side, holding Bruce in her arms. He was so big.
Maria put a hand on her stomach.
“Maria. I wanted to help you. I like to think we are friends. But whoever that woman is, I hope you know I am aware of your… inclinations, and I hope you’re aware she’s married.” Peggy spoke, calm but calculated, determined and leaving no room for argument. “As are you, Maria.”
“Peggy… It isn’t like that.” She knew it was pointless denying it, knew Peggy could see through her, but in a way it was true. “I don’t want to leave Howard. I just need to know if she’s alright. I love him.”
Peggy nodded, but she didn’t smile when she left. She dropped a briefcase with Howard and the file with Maria, and when Maria saw her off, she had a feeling deep down in her gut that Peggy didn’t believe her.
She had a few hours still before they were leaving, and a way to go before she was brave enough to call the number in the folder, so she sat at the kitchen table, Jarvis ever understanding, excusing himself and not prying, and she read page after page of everything Peggy’s questionable sources found, saw pictures where every single time Brain was smiling and Rebecca wasn’t. The dates stamped on top of the pages change, more and more recent.
There were hospital records.
There was nothing directly incriminating in the file, no obvious clue, but Maria knew, she just knew it. The way Rebecca never talked about her husband, the lack of smiles, Bruce always hiding behind his mom’s legs and a doctor’s report of bruises, too numerous and conveniently located to be from the accidents Rebecca promised to have gotten them in.
“Maria, darling, we need to leave.”
She looked at Howard, thought about what she told Peggy, and realized sometimes, sometimes it didn’t matter if you were doing the wrong thing in everyone’s eyes.
“I’m not going.”
Howard, ultimately, seemed strangely fine with her choosing to stay. She watched him leave, pull the car from the driveway, begged Jarvis to drive her to the station because she couldn’t go to San Francisco when she needed to be in Arizona.
And Jarvis, sweet Edwin, ever patient and understanding, the man who saw through her in a way she suspected Peggy couldn’t quite see because of Howard, Edwin took her all the way to Pheonix. She was glad, in a way, that she could at least just get there, that Rebecca didn’t live in Ohio anymore and moved closer, even if it meant that Maria couldn’t find her for years.
But even driving across the state borders, Maria didn’t yet realize that this was her day that changed everything.
She didn’t think about the future when she drove, didn’t exactly plan to leave Howard. If he didn’t want her anymore, she didn’t care, money and propriety be damned as long as she knew Rebecca was fine. All she could think of was conveniently omitted information, reported bruises and a child she needed to make sure was safe.
***
When Jarvis pulled into a nondescript street in Phoenix, a small house with a neatly trimmed lawn, lights on and frilly curtains, she finally did think and realized, terrified, that she had no idea what next. Edwin waited, car still running, waiting for her move. She looked, and wondered, considered, for the first time, maybe too late, if she should get out.
But after all that she went through to do this, she had to, didn’t she?
She wouldn’t be able to tell, later, how long she just sat in the car, watching. Jarvis would say it was 40 minutes, and it was almost midnight by the time she got out of the car.
But not because she was finally ready.
The door to the house opened with a crash against the facade, Rebecca, and it was really her, running out of the house with Bruce in her arms and bare feet and there was yelling and there he was. Brain Banner. She puts Bruce on the ground, and started struggling with car keys and he was on her and Maria flew out of the car before he could kill her, fists already flying when she got between them. She caught a punch herself, her shoulder flaring with pain, but he seemed too stunned by the interruption to react, especially drunk and taken by surprise. Rebecca looked like she’d seen a ghost, but allowed herself to be herded into the backseat of the car, and by the time Jarvis got back on the road Brain Banner could do little but yell.
Rebecca looked at her, Bruce cradled in her arms, an unknown car taking her into safety, logic and reason finally catching up to her as anxiety and fear abided. A spark of recognition lit up in her eyes, mixed with disbelief.
“Maria… Maria Carbonell?”
They fell into each other’s arms, a hug worth all the years of separation, and it felt impossible that this was, ultimately, the first time they saw each other outside of photos.
Rebecca cried, and quietly admitted how Brian went from distant to angry to violent, and how she didn’t want to drop contact, but Brian basically forced her to, because he needed the computer, and they only had one, and then they changed the phone, and so much has happened, and barely audible, that tonight was the breaking point, the moment he raised his hand on Bruce.
She fell asleep in the backseat with her head in Maria’s lap and Bruce held firmly to her chest, and Jarvis drove back, the angel he was, insisting he didn’t need rest.
It was already morning when they arrived back in Malibu, and it was then that Maria realized it was the day that changed everything.
Peggy waited for them in the doorway, face solemn, a mix of anger and disappointment and something akin to resignation, or maybe finally acceptance.
Maria saw the way her eyes softened, something clicking as she took in Rebecca’s bare feet, Bruce’s shy demeanour, and the exhaustion and bruises covering the woman’s body.
Maria saw the way it clicked, for Peggy, that this wasn’t about the money, that it wasn’t so simple, and that it was the right thing to do. She wanted to defend herself anyway, as Peggy led them in, sat them on the couch, made them tea when Jarvis went to get the well-deserved sleep after a hushed conversation with her in the kitchen, wanted to tell Peggy it wasn’t like that but she would divorce Howard and be left with nothing to keep Rebecca safe.
But she said none of it at all. It was Peggy who spoke first.
“There was an accident. Howard is dead.”
The day Maria found Rebecca, rescued Rebecca from an abusive household, was the day she became an heir to the Stark fortune. The day both of them, by pure luck and sheer coincidence, may have escaped death.
The day everything changed.
***
The sun fell in soft rays, through the window and onto the covers. She watched it dance on the colorful patterns in the cotton, the familiar old duvet that was once her mother’s, and thought about the way she missed it.
California was also hot, but the sun there never warmed her heart the way Italian sun did - and Howard always used those boring white sheets she had to wash too often because she felt like they got dirty too fast.
She stretched, her body still groaning in displeasure, post partum pains fresh and present. It’s been a while, and she was technically healed, but not yet back to herself.
She heard a soft song in english and opened her eyes to see Rebecca holding little Antonio, humming to keep him calm, probably at his side from the moment he started fussing in the cradle.
She always imagined herself, as a parent, doing most of the work. She didn’t really dread it, but she expected it. Howard wasn’t the kind of a guy who would be a very involved father, and he was constantly busy, so she expected it even before his death.
But then came Rebecca.
After the funeral and paperwork, and allowing the first of the shock to fade, they didn’t stay in the States long. Peggy was a godsend, helping with all the formalities, both for Maria and Rebecca, who officially filed for divorce and full custody. And Peggy, being Peggy, had her own channels, and she was efficient. The feelings between the two of them were strained at first, but Maria told Peggy the entire story one night over a glass of wine (and water, because she was still pregnant) and Peggy understood. It helped that Maria didn’t seem to seek money even now that she had it. She left the company in the safe hands of Peggy, Jarvis, and Obadiah Stane, Howard’s closest business partner, and moved back to Italy, to her family home, to regain some peace and quiet when the baby came.
And Rebecca came with her.
They danced around each other for months, but eventually Rebecca asked about that first postcard, still sitting under a magnet on the fridge, and they talked the night away and ended up kissing over the table and tiramisu, in the middle of the night, and from then on it was just easy.
Maria liked waking up in Malibu, to crisp white sheets and Howard’s passionate kisses.
But she loved the Italian sun, patterned cotton and Rebecca’s soft singing even more.
She watched the woman she loved for years, finally where she belonged, thought about being allowed this, staying in because Antonio was taken care of before he even started to cry, thought of Bruce still asleep in his own room because he would never have to hide from his own father again and could sleep soundly, and thought of everything that led her to this point.
Life, sometimes, was much weirder and more interesting than even the stories in the books Maria read.
And sometimes, for all the pain and suffering and tribulations it put them through, it even had its own happily ever after.