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Hannah fell in love with Baker’s heart before anything else, which makes loving the rest of her easy. She loves the lines around Baker’s eyes that appear whenever she smiles, and she knows those will get deeper with time. She loves Baker’s silky hair, which she cut last summer to donate to charity so now it barely reaches her shoulders. There are a million things Hannah loves about Baker, but in the end, her heart is the one thing that will never change.
Everything Baker does is guided by her heart, which makes it really hard for Hannah to complain when Baker comes home from work one day and announces that she's going to Honduras in February.
“Oh really?” Hannah had laughed, pouring a glass of red wine before kissing Baker hello. “I'm sure going to miss you.”
It didn't take long for Hannah to realize her wife was completely serious. She’d only seen that sort of excitement in Baker’s eyes a handful of times, and each time Hannah is powerless to say no.
That's how, four months later, Hannah finds herself hugging and kissing Baker goodbye in the airport before she departs for a two-week veterinary mission to Honduras, where she’ll get to help pets and do community outreach with their owners and neighbors in small, poor villages.
Baker’s heart beats for more than just Hannah, something that makes Hannah’s beat even more desperately for Baker. It beats for the needy and for the privileged, for the sick and for the able-bodied, for the bold and for the meek, for the innocent and for the guilty. And over the last few weeks, Hannah has felt it beat stronger than ever for the people and animals Baker was going to help. Every night when Baker prays before bed, she says an extra prayer for them and whispers to Hannah her excitement about their culture and the people she’ll meet and the animals she’ll save.
“Be good, Hannah-bear,” Baker murmurs into her neck. “Rub Charlie’s belly even when he's shedding on the couch.”
“He's not allowed on the couch,” Hannah reminds her dryly. Any restrictions on Charlie are for naught because Baker is so whipped by him.
“Mm-hmm, of course,” Baker says absentmindedly, running a hand through Hannah’s hair. “I love you.”
“I love you more,” Hannah says, kissing her forehead. “Be safe. Don't forget to call me when you can.”
“Every chance I get,” Baker promises, squeezing her hands before finally separating from her. She shrugs her bag over her shoulder and starts walking toward the security line, turning back to smile and blow a final kiss to Hannah.
~
Hannah holds onto the “kiss” for the next 10 days when calls from Baker are few and far between. She calls every chance she gets, as promised, but sometimes those chances happen in the middle of Hannah’s second period class or at midnight, and Hannah picks up her phone to see three missed calls, each five minutes apart (as per their rule) and a voicemail from an unfamiliar number.
The voice is always familiar, though, and Hannah replays the voicemails till she practically wears them out and has memorized everything Baker said. She's loving the surgeries and the families and the smiles she's putting on kids’ faces when their dogs are all better. She's having the best time putting on evening programs for the families in the village and even though it's “hot as hell” and she's missing Hannah “like crazy, baby,” Hannah knows she's having the time of her life.
It's even better when Hannah can answer the phone and hear Baker smiling through it, like she can when Baker happens to call during her free period just a few days before she's set to come home.
“Hey, Bake,” Hannah says, grinning as she slides her finger across the screen to answer. She leans back in her chair and puts her feet up on the ottoman Baker bought for her office when she found out how often Hannah rests her feet on the desk. “How many puppies did you save today?”
“Two so far,” Baker says quickly. “Listen. How soon can you get down here?”
“What?” Hannah asks, sitting up. “Are you okay?”
“I'm great, Han,” Baker says. “Perfect.”
Hannah doesn't believe her. “What’s wrong?”
“You're going to think I'm crazy.”
“All I care about is that you're okay,” Hannah says. “And you sound frantic.”
“Remember what we talked about on our anniversary?”
“Our dating anniversary or—”
“Our wedding anniversary, Han!” Baker exclaims. “We haven't celebrated the other one in—that's beside the point! Do you remember?”
If she's honest with herself, Hannah usually doesn't remember much beyond the wine and lovemaking on special occasions, but she racks her brain for details from that night.
“Hannah?”
“I don't remember, I'm sorry,” Hannah sighs.
“Starting a family,” Baker groans, exasperated.
“So what's that…” Hannah starts before realizing. She thinks about the voicemails where Baker has gushed over the dozens of kids in the village who follow her around and hug her leg when she has to leave for the night. “Baker, no.”
“Hannah, no. Listen.”
“No! Absolutely not! This isn't like bringing home kittens and baby birds. This is a big decision.”
“That's why you need to come here,” Baker whines, and Hannah can see Baker’s familiar pout in her mind. “You'd fall in love with them as much as I have.”
“Them?” Hannah asks.
“Dip into the vacation fund,” Baker says, changing the subject. “Just get here. I need you to trust me on this.”
“I know you're high on life and all that,” Hannah says calmly. “But you can't make a decision like this in two weeks.”
“We made this decision before we got married,” Baker says, and Hannah can just see her in her mind, twisting her wedding band around her ring finger. “We said we’d start a family when we were married for at least a year and had put away money to start college funds. We’ve been married for almost two years, we have money in the bank, we have a house with plenty of room to grow. Why not?”
“Yeah, but we didn't decide anything else,” Hannah says, struggling for words.
“These kids need us,” Baker says finally, her voice breaking. “There's a sweet little girl named Liliana—she's 3—and her brother, Dominic, who's 6 months old. Their mom died giving birth to him, and they've been living in a one-bedroom house with a family of eight. They can barely feed their own kids, and they took in two more because that's what you do here. We have more than we know what to do with, Hannah. We pay for 300 channels we never watch, and we get takeout at least twice a week. We may not be rich, but these kids would feel like they're living in a palace in our house.”
Even from more than a thousand miles away, Hannah can't stand to hear Baker cry, so 20 minutes later she has a one-way plane ticket to Honduras and approval from the administration at her school to take time off.
~
Baker’s smile is even wider and brighter than usual when she picks up Hannah at the airport, and Hannah never ceases to be amazed at how dark Baker can get after just a few days in the sun.
“No promises, Bake,” Hannah murmurs into her neck when Baker throws her arms around her, but they both know she wouldn't be there if she weren’t seriously considering Baker’s proposal.
They spend the several-hour van ride holding hands and talking quietly about things they’d missed: Hannah’s favorite students and Baker’s best success stories, the things they usually talk about over coffee in the morning or dinner after work. Baker rests her head on Hannah’s shoulder when it becomes clear that they aren’t going to talk about the real reason Hannah’s here, whispering “I’m glad you came” before dozing off.
Baker postponed her trip back to the U.S. so she and Hannah would have time to meet with Honduran lawyers who specialize in cases like theirs—and, of course, so Hannah would have time to fall in love with the kids as much as Baker has—but it’s her team’s last night, so the people in the village throw them a huge going-away party with music and dancing and kids everywhere.
“Hannah, there are some people I’d like you to meet,” Baker says softly, taking Hannah by the arm and leading her toward a house where at least a dozen kids of all ages are playing in the front yard. A translator accompanies them into the home, where a woman who can’t be older than 35 rocks a fussy baby. “Hola, Maribel,” she says. “This is Hannah.” She pauses and smiles, slipping her hand into Hannah’s. “My wife.”
Hannah’s biggest fear about Baker going on a mission trip with a group she’d never heard of before was that they’d be homophobic and that at the very least she wouldn’t be able to talk to Baker the whole time. She’d spent hours and hours looking up all the ways Baker could be in danger going to another country and all the ways she could hide who she is for two weeks.
Baker had never been scared—she hasn’t been scared in a long time—but she let Hannah do her worrying, well aware that it was necessary for Hannah to make sure she knew in advance everything that could possibly go wrong. On the first night of the trip, Baker shared her testimony with everyone else, starting with her upbringing and taking them through all the dark times, including how she and Hannah came to be. Nobody had reacted badly, per se, but there were only one or two who showed outward support and asked Baker about Hannah throughout the trip.
When Maribel had heard about Hannah (by Baker’s mistake, really—she had mentioned her conversation with her wife about having kids), she fully embraced the idea, fascinated that Baker and Hannah could live openly and freely in America whereas her uncle had been jailed when she was a child for the same “infraction.”
“Do you want to hold him?” Maribel asked, standing up to hand Baker the baby, who calms down as soon as he's in her arms.
“Han, this is Dominic,” she says, bouncing him gently against her chest. His eyes are wide as he assesses the unfamiliar blonde, and Hannah can tell Baker is saying something else, but she sounds a million miles away when Hannah feels like she's physically melting into his chocolate brown eyes. “Baby?”
“Y-yeah,” Hannah says. “Sorry, what?”
“Do you want to hold him?” Baker asks again.
Hannah just nods, holding out her arms for the child, who seems more than happy to be passed around. “Oh, Bake,” she sighs, her heart clenching as he reaches for her hair.
“I know,” Baker says.
What took Baker ten days barely took Hannah ten seconds, and five minutes after he falls asleep in her arms, Hannah is sure.
“Liliana will play till it’s dark,” Maribel laughs as she takes Dominic from Hannah, who’s hesitant to let go, and places him in a makeshift crib in the corner of the room.
“That's okay, we’ll go find her,” Baker says. “We’ll be back, okay?”
As soon as they're out the door, Hannah grips Baker’s bicep as hard as she can. “This is going to change everything,” she says.
“Oh, Han,” Baker practically cries, wrapping her arms around Hannah’s neck. “I knew you'd feel it.”
“Don't make me kiss you in front of all these people,” Hannah murmurs into Baker’s scalp. “Because you know I will.”
She doesn't get the chance to, though, because a little girl runs up to Baker, tugging at the belt loops on her shorts. She's excited about something, but Hannah can only make out the words “Baker” and “princesa.”
“Si, si,” Baker laughs, picking her up and holding her on her hip. “Liliana, this is Hannah. La princesa.”
Hannah blushes as the little girl stares at her in awe.
“I told her the story of how I fell in love with a princess and we lived happily ever after,” Baker explains, smirking. “I think she thought I was making it up because she can’t believe you’re real. Sometimes I still can’t either.”
“You already got me on your side here,” Hannah teases. “No need to keep sucking up.”
~
It isn’t till they’re lying in the twin bed in Baker’s room at the ranch where they’re staying (they’d blown up an air mattress for Hannah so she’d be more comfortable, but nobody actually thought she’d use it) that they start to talk about logistics.
As hard as Hannah fell for Dominic, she had fallen even harder for Liliana, who followed Hannah like a lost puppy, wide eyes taking in her blonde hair and tiny hands enamored with her light, soft skin. By the time the sun went down and all of Maribel’s children came to collect her, she clung to Hannah tight, whimpering when they pulled her away. Hannah promised she’d be back tomorrow.
Baker is talking about cribs and paint and toys before Hannah finally stops her.
“Sweetheart,” Hannah says gently. “You know this isn’t going to be easy, right?”
“Well, yeah,” Baker says. “But our families will be so happy to meet them. You’ll be done with school for the summer soon, and Liliana will start pre-school in the fall, and Dominic can stay with—”
“I don’t mean that part,” Hannah says. “Of course we’ll figure it out. But there’s no guarantee we’ll get them. A few years ago, we wouldn’t have been able to adopt here at all. There are still a million hoops to jump through, so many ways this could go wrong. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.”
“I’m not,” Baker says after a moment of silence. “I just—my heart says—”
“I know what your heart says,” Hannah sighs, kissing Baker’s forehead. “Mine does too. I just don’t want it to get broken.”
There’s no avoiding that when they have to leave, of course. Their attorneys assure them that they have a strong case, that they’re going to do everything in their power to make sure Liliana and Dominic find their home with Baker and Hannah, that there are few obstacles in their way, but they don’t sugarcoat anything. There’s no guarantee that anything will happen, that even if they do get to adopt those children that it’ll be anytime soon.
Baker sobs into Hannah’s neck on the entire van ride to the airport after saying goodbye to the kids—their kids. Liliana had no idea what was going on, certain that they’d be back tomorrow, just like they always have been, and Dominic is just a baby. As long as someone is holding or changing or feeding him, he’s happy.
There’s a lot to explain when they get home, especially to Hannah’s family, who got a call that Hannah would be leaving for Honduras and returning “soon, I hope” with very little explanation. They decide it’s best to corral their families together at their home for dinner, where they explain as best they can without dissolving into tears that they think it’s time to expand their family, and it might be happening sooner rather than later.
The next few months are the hardest. Maribel is able to send letters and photos of the kids, but it hurts Baker too much to keep them on the fridge like Hannah wants to. They meet with attorneys in the U.S. as well as the ones working diligently on their case in Honduras, but every meeting ends in tears and frustration when they realize things aren’t progressing. It’s all a case of hurry up and wait, with strict deadlines for paperwork and home studies, but when those are complete, Baker and Hannah are left in the dark for weeks.
At the mall, Baker lingers in the windows of the kids’ clothing stores, not trusting herself enough to enter. She’s sure if they get ahead of themselves and start decorating the rooms and stocking up on toys for real, not just in their heads, they’ll jinx it.
In the end, it happens without much fanfare, a message on Hannah’s voicemail from their attorney requesting a call back. She calls back on the way home from school and almost slams into the car in front of her when he says “congratulations.” She has just enough time to go to the store for everything she needs in time for Baker to come home.
“Han?” Baker calls. The house isn’t usually dark when she gets home, and Hannah’s car is in the driveway. “Baby?” She slips off her shoes and sets her keys down where she knows the counter is before fumbling for the lightswitch and turning it on to find Hannah standing in the kitchen in a sea of pink and blue balloons, holding one in each hand saying “It’s a Girl!” and “It’s a Boy!”
“Welcome home, Mama,” Hannah says, grinning from ear to ear.
Baker’s hands fly to her face as she tries to make sense of her surroundings. “What are you talking about?” she asks, not willing to believe it till the words come out of Hannah’s mouth.
“Aaron called me today,” Hannah says, letting go of the balloons so they float toward the ceiling as she steps toward Baker, kicking balloons out of the way. “They’re ours, baby. They’re all ours.”
Baker’s knees buckle, and she crumples to the ground, bawling as Hannah joins her on the ground, wrapping her arms around Baker’s shoulders and kissing her hair. They stay like that, rocking back and forth, till Baker finally takes a deep, shaky breath and pulls away to look Hannah in the eye.
“Does this mean we can go shopping now?” she whispers, a grin spreading across her face. It looks out of place juxtaposed with her tear-stained cheeks, but these are happy tears.
Hannah laughs, squeezing her wife tight. “We can go shopping now.”
~
They fly to Honduras three days before Dominic’s first birthday. They almost miss their flight because Baker has to look over the kids’ rooms five more times to make sure nothing is missing.
“Baker, calm down,” Hannah says, placing both hands on her wife’s shoulders. “They aren't coming to stay for a little while during which time everything has to be perfect. They're going to be with us forever. And that gives us plenty of time to stock up on sippy cups and baby blankets and anything we could possibly need. We are giving them a roof and beds and food and shoes on their feet, but best of all we’re going to be a family. Everything else we can figure out as we go, okay?”
She caps off her tough love with a kiss and a light shoulder squeeze, and deep down Baker knows she's right (though even deeper down Baker is still panicking about being a terrible parent).
Maribel’s family celebrates Hannah and Baker’s arrival with the usual fanfare and the entire village celebrates Dominic’s birthday with twice that enthusiasm.
As Hannah sits with Liliana on the sidewalk, drawing multicolored spirals with chalk, she realizes Liliana has some idea of what's going on, even despite the language barrier. Baker and Hannah went to adoption counseling, where they were assured she would pick up English quickly, but they had done their best to learn the basics.
“Hey,” Baker says, sitting beside them. Someone must have managed to wrangle away Dominic, because she’s empty-handed. She smiles when she sees the look on Hannah’s face. “I figured I’d give them a little more time with him,” she says. “What are we drawing?”
“I’m just kinda drawing hearts and stars because that’s all I know how to do,” Hannah admits. “She is the artist here.”
“Que linda,” Baker says, and Liliana looks up and beams. “Beautiful.”
“Lil, tell Baker,” Hannah says, choosing her words carefully and gesturing so Liliana will understand. “Te amo?”
“I love you!” Liliana tells Baker proudly, looking to Hannah for approval.
Baker’s face lights up, and she squeezes Hannah’s hand quickly. “I love you too,” she says, kissing the top of the little girl’s head.
~
They leave the next morning after packing up Liliana’s things and saying their goodbyes to Maribel and her family. Liliana chatters away in two languages all morning about the “castle” where Hannah lives and the “perro” named Charlie who lives inside the house, which is why it takes everyone by surprise when she bursts into tears when Hannah hoists her up into the van that's driving them back to the airport.
“What's wrong?” Baker asks the translator, rushing to her side as she cries in words that would barely be recognizable in English.
“No, no, no,” Maribel says, reaching for Liliana. She speaks to her in a warm, gentle voice while Baker clings to Hannah’s arm, petrified that something is going to go terribly wrong. When she finally calms her, Maribel smiles. “She said she was going to miss Dominic,” she says.
“What?” Hannah asks, furrowing her brow.
“She thought you were just taking her and leaving him behind,” Maribel explains, smiling at the baby and shaking his foot playfully. “I think she understands now. Lily?”
“Familia?” Liliana asks in a small voice, still unsure as she looks between the three women and the two men: the translator and the van driver.
It’s all Hannah can do not to wrap up the little girl—her daughter—in her arms and squeeze her senseless. Luckily there’s plenty of time for that.
~
Sleep is hard to come by the first few months, which everyone warned them about, but there's only so much they can do to prepare.
Baker is used to weird waking hours working in a veterinary hospital, so it doesn’t bother her to be up with Dominic at 4 a.m. while Hannah rests up for her day, but it does feel like her insides are being squeezed and twisted when she works a late shift and looks at the clock around dinnertime, wondering what her family is eating, what Liliana drew for the fridge, how Hannah’s dealing with Dominic’s acid reflux.
Weekends are their saving grace, when Baker can pull Liliana into bed with them when she has a bad dream without fear of disturbing Hannah and stay there, save for one mom having to get up when Dominic wakes up.
Liliana learns new words every day, but her favorite is also Hannah and Baker’s favorite, one that she knew before but has just recently learned to use in a new way.
“Mama!” Liliana shrieks when Baker walks through the door. No matter what time of day Baker gets home, she gets the same ecstatic greeting and tackle-hug. On nights when she works late, the little girl greets her the exact same way in the morning, feeling like it’s been years since she last saw her.
“Hi, angel!” Baker exclaims, scooping her up and smacking a kiss on her cheek. “What smells so good?”
This is tradition too. When Baker’s home, they cook together, and Baker loves taking care of Hannah and surprising her with home-cooked meals, but Hannah’s schedule makes it easier for her to handle most of the cooking, which intimidated her at first. She’s a great cook, but she was nervous for so long that Baker wouldn’t like her food but would be too nice to say so, and when she finally got over that fear, there were two new (sometimes picky) mouths to feed.
“Spaghetti and meatballs,” Hannah says, walking toward the foyer to greet Baker with a kiss and a baby trade. “Come on,” she says, hoisting Liliana onto her hip. “Let’s let Mama have some quality time with Dom.”
Baker wrinkles her nose before smiling and rolling her eyes playfully, because this too is like clockwork. “Let’s get that diaper changed,” she says, tickling Dominic’s tummy.
She hums quietly in his nursery, knowing that Hannah has a monitor in the kitchen and would tease her for singing too loudly (even though she not-so-secretly loves it). Dominic babbles as she hums, enamored by his mother’s voice.
“Who loves you?” she asks rhetorically, kissing his stomach when she’s done putting on his fresh diaper. “Mama!”
He opens his mouth to keep babbling, but what comes out is unmistakeable. “Mama.”
“Mama!” Baker says, delighted when he repeats it back to her yet again. “Han! Get in here!” she exclaims into the monitor. “Hurry!”
Hannah rushes in moments later, eyes wide in panic. “What’s wrong?”
“Mama,” Baker says to Dominic, picking him up as if presenting him to Hannah.
“Mama!” he says again, giddy with their new game.
Hannah just looks confused.
“He’s saying mama,” Baker explains.
“Oh,” Hannah sighs, relieved. “God, I thought someone was dying,” she says. “But yeah, isn’t that great?”
“What do you—”
“I didn’t tell you?” Hannah asks, running a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry, Bake. Yeah, he’s been saying it for a few days. But I’m so glad you finally heard it.”
Baker’s face falls, but Hannah doesn’t notice because then a timer is going off and Liliana is yelling for someone to come play with her.
Lily and Hannah dominate most of the conversation over spaghetti and meatballs, talking about their days and the new friends Lily made in preschool. Baker barely touches her food, pushing the meatballs around on her plate before being the first one up to clear the table so Hannah won’t notice and get offended. She busies herself the rest of the evening with Lily’s bathtime and getting her ready for bed, only interacting with Hannah when she brings Lily downstairs for a goodnight kiss.
“Hey,” Hannah says softly, careful not to rouse Dominic, who’s almost completely asleep in her arms with a bottle grasped in his hands. “You okay?”
Baker forces a smile and nods. “Come on, let’s go read a story,” she suggests to her daughter, looking pointedly away from her wife.
It’s not good enough, of course. Hannah’s been able to read Baker like a large-print, fully illustrated book for more than a decade, so there’s no escaping her knowing look once she returns to their bedroom after putting Dominic in his crib.
“Book down,” Hannah says, folding her arms. “Tell me what I did.”
“You didn’t do anything, Han,” Baker sighs, sitting up against the headboard, but she does as instructed, slipping a bookmark into the parenting book she’s reading.
“You’re upset about something.”
“I’m upset with myself,” Baker confesses after a moment of consideration. In reality, she's been thinking about what she'd say to Hannah since dinner. “I’m missing out on our kids’ lives because of work, and it’s horrible.” Her lip quivers as she tries not to cry. “I feel like a complete failure as a mom, meanwhile you’re here picking Lily up from school and making dinner and seeing these milestones that I’m missing out on.”
“Baby,” Hannah says softly, crawling into bed beside her to wrap an arm around Baker’s shoulders. “You are not a failure. You’re the best mom in the world. What is this even about?”
“He said mama,” Baker cries. “To you. Days ago. And you didn’t even tell me.”
“I’m sorry,” Hannah says. “Things have been so hectic at school, and you’ve been working like crazy, sometimes I just don’t think.”
“It’s not that,” Baker continues. “I thought I was mad that you didn’t tell me, but I’m just devastated that he didn’t say it to me till tonight.”
“Oh, sweetheart,” Hannah says, but she can’t help but laugh, which she regrets as soon as Baker’s head snaps toward her. “I’m not laughing at you.”
“It’s not funny, Hannah.”
Baker rarely uses Hannah’s given name on its own, no nicknames or anything, so that shuts Hannah up pretty quickly. “It’s not,” she agrees. “It’s just that he didn’t say it to me first either. He said it to Joanie when she was watching him the other day.”
“To Joanie?” Baker asks, sniffling despite herself.
“Yep,” Hannah confirms. “Freaked her out entirely. When I came home she spent an hour ranting about how she’s nowhere near ready to be a mom and how ever since we adopted, Mom won’t get off her back.”
“She’s not even married,” Baker laughs, wiping a tear from her eye.
“I know,” Hannah says. “And honestly, the first time I heard him say it was that night when I heard you come in the door and I said ‘Mama’s home.’”
“Really?”
“Really really,” Hannah promises. “You’re the best mom. I love being your partner in all this. All Lily talked about all afternoon were her plans for when you came home. She loves you so much, and so do I. Dom? Well, he loves anyone who feeds him and holds him, but you definitely fall in that category.”
“I love you so much,” Baker murmurs, turning her head to kiss Hannah. “I love being your partner in everything too. If I’d called anyone else from Honduras saying they needed to fly down because I wanted to adopt two kids I’d just met, they’d have said I was crazy.”
Hannah laughs, kissing Baker back. “For the record,” she whispers against her lips. “I did say you were crazy. But you were crazy enough to marry me, so I figured I owed you one.”