Chapter Text
Yolanda hadn’t gotten around to buying a new dishwasher.
The previous one had betrayed her a couple of months ago, finally giving in and finding its resting place somewhere in a repair shop. The space where it once was is now just a strange vacant spot in her kitchen. A strange black hole of something that used to function and no longer does.
There’s a part of Yolanda that has enjoyed the menial task of doing the dishes. Mostly because it’s a moment where she can think while her hands are occupied. It will probably lose its charm and she’ll bite the bullet and buy a new dishwasher.
It doesn’t hurt that more often than not, Trinity stands beside her while she washes and Trinity dries. Or the other way around. They talk with busy hands, low in the soft hum of the kitchen, dim lights making the apartment feel like a cozy cocoon away from the whole world. And in those moments, they’ve gotten to talking, sometimes about random innocuous things, other times the task offers something to focus on when the words are heavier than they can manage with empty hands.
It’s been about three years since they met. Three years since Trinity Santos dropped a scalpel on her foot.
Trinity is probably her closest friend. Or something like a friend. It feels weird to say friend. She is not just a friend. Not exactly. Friend feels surface level.
The ten month fiasco of their casual relationship had more or less blown up in their faces. Mostly because lines got blurry and then Yolanda got mean and Trinity got even meaner which really fucking sucked and everything hurt. And then they both got their heads out of their asses and actually talked. Honestly. A task insanely difficult for two dumb emotionally challenged individuals.
They mutually agreed they weren’t ready for a relationship. And then agreed that whatever the fuck they were doing wasn’t actually that casual. Because they cared too much about each other for that to be true. And because they cared about each other, a relationship wasn’t in the cards. The expectations were more than they were equipped to deal with at the time. A relationship felt like too big of a deal and with everything they had going on in their lives, it wasn’t ideal.
Perhaps the first emotionally mature decision for them.
And then it simply became an unspoken rule. They love each other too much to fuck everything up. So they’re friends. They’re in each other’s lives, intimately. Trinity is in her family’s group chat, an honorary Garcia at this point. Yolanda still wants to murder Trinity’s family and kidnap her little brother. They have the key to each other’s places. They vacation together and have spent holidays together for the last two years. And they love each other. Not that either of them have directly broached the subject more than once or twice. After too much wine and questionable proximity.
They’ve only faltered a few times.
Once, last year, they were both drunk and sweaty, after an hour of dancing together, too close to deny it. And Trinity had kissed her in the elevator up to the apartment, cheeks flushed, looking impossibly beautiful. And Yolanda didn’t put a stop to it.
That night counted as maybe three nights. When they tired each other out, the sun had unexpectedly peeked through the curtains and they went to sleep, naked, wrapped around each other. That morning, nothing had been awkward. Yolanda had kissed her forehead, cooked her breakfast. They hadn’t called it a mistake. A lapse of judgement perhaps. Agreed it probably wasn’t the best idea to start having mindblowing sex again. And then went back to only actually sleeping in the same bed, with clothes on.
Then, on Christmas, Yolanda was feeling needy and Trinity was sleeping in her childhood bed and playing with her nephews looking hot while doing it and she’d woken up from a dreamlike memory of making her cum, like she was always meant to land on her tongue and she’d been weak and pathetic and asked Trinity to sit on her face in the middle of the night and they both promised it was just that time.
Except for the rest of the holiday week, they had forgotten they were meant to protect each other from their mess and had fooled around like teenagers having sex for the first time. When they went back to Pittsburgh, they broached the sex subject again. Wondered if maybe they could scratch an itch. Seriously considered it before ultimately deciding it wasn’t a good idea to make that a habitual occurrence. But maybe once in a while, if neither of them had people warming each other’s bed, they could potentially get it out of their system. A questionable decision to leave the door open, according to Dennis. And fucking idiotic according to Walsh. Please just admit you want to marry her said by Victoria with all the petulance of a child. Yolanda reluctantly tolerated Victoria, maybe even liked her a little, maybe even got worried for her (she would never admit it). But Victoria was the bluntest of Trinity’s friends when it came to this particular subject.
Either way, Yolanda and Trinity mattered to each other and after their rough start, they wanted to keep it safe. And that meant away from the messy complicated feelings.
It meant doing the dishes side by side after a long day at work and going to sleep together.
There’s a moment of quiet as they wash the dishes. Trinity looks pretty today, cheeks a little flushed from the wine at dinner and tired but in a way that just makes her look soft. Yolanda likes looking at her. She’s been thinking about her a lot lately. She always does.
“Can I ask you something?” Trinity murmurs, after a while. As if she’s only now found the right words.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.” She says. And Yolanda’s hands pause for a moment as she scrubs a plate and glances at her. “I just…the letter was on your counter this morning and I…saw it.”
She knows immediately what she means. It’s sat heavy in her mind lately. The results aren’t promising. She didn’t remember leaving the letter from the fertility clinic on the counter but her brain must’ve been elsewhere. It’s not exactly like she’s hiding anything. There just hadn’t been something to tell. She imagined she’d eventually talk to her about it but now there truly is nothing to tell. Not in any positive way.
“I didn’t know you wanted that.” She tells her gently. And Yolanda is glad she doesn’t have to look at her for a moment.
“I…” She breathes out. “I was looking into it.”
“Okay.” Trinity hums. “With the intent to…”
“Get pregnant. Do it by myself.” Yolanda answers honestly. And now that she’s spoken the words aloud, there’s an ache in her chest. The plate is already clean in her hands but she keeps mechanically scrubbing it, staring at it intently.
Trinity allows silence, seems to be processing as Yolanda hands her the plate she’d been scrubbing. She finally looks at her directly, pausing the task at hand.
“You look surprised.” Yolanda mentions, manages a smile.
“No. I just…I don’t know, it’s not something we’ve ever talked about. I just hadn’t imagined that as something you’d want.”
Yolanda sighs. “I get it. I don’t exactly give off motherly vibes.” She huffs out a small laugh and Trinity smiles softly at her. She continues. “I thought I’d have a family by now. It’s dumb, given I’m notoriously bad at relationships but a part of me thought I’d get to have that. Do some good in the world besides opening people up.” Then she looks down at her hands. “That sounds lame out loud.”
“No.” Trinity shakes her head. “It doesn’t. It’s sweet.”
“Something came up in my last check up and I had some tests done. Turns out I have a notoriously low ovary count so the chances of me spending my whole savings on IVF and being unsuccessful are stupidly high.” She says, eyes fixated on her hands, drying her hands on a dish towel. “And it’s also rapidly declining apparently. So the chances of a viable egg are slim. Near to impossible.”
“I’m sorry.” Trinity murmurs, a hand reaching out towards Yolanda’s fidgeting one. “So what are the options?”
“Trying now while there is still some kind of a chance. Donated eggs maybe. Or fuck, I don’t know, adoption. But the process is too fucking long and I’m a single woman.” She sighs frustratingly. And Trinity pulls her into her arms, still leaning against the countertop. Yolanda gives in easily, cheek resting against Trinity’s shoulder. “Maybe it’s just a pipe dream.” Her voice cracks at that. And Trinity’s arms squeeze around her, she places a kiss to her head, swaying them gently.
It’s always struck Yolanda how tender and affectionate Trinity’s let herself become with her. In those first ten months, despite the sexual nature of their relationship, they had both held back when it came to easy affectionate gestures. Now it’s become part of the way they move around each other. Yolanda doesn’t take that for granted. It’s an easy habit to fall into. It’s a nice thing to have with someone. It’s a beautiful thing to have with Trinity.
“I’m sure you’ll figure out a way. If it’s what you want, there’s an option that’ll work.” Trinity says with certainty in her voice that Yolanda doesn’t yet feel. Then there’s a soft laugh. “Damn, I just fully pictured a high chair by the counter. You’re probably going to get those aesthetically pleasing boring ones so it matches the decor.”
She lifts her head off her shoulder. “How the fuck are you already criticizing my choice in high chairs and I don’t even have the kid?”
“Yola, please promise me you’ll allow the kid at least one fun color?” Trinity jokes, grinning.
She rolls her eyes. “You exist, Santos. You’ll probably get them several rainbow themed items before I can say the word no.”
“See, it’s gonna happen now. It’s become my personal mission in life to show your kid the wonders of the rainbow.” Trinity smiles and then presses a kiss to her cheek. “We’re gonna make it happen.”
“I regret to inform you, you lack the equipment.” Yolanda jokes weakly.
“We can always try.” Trinity says, raising an eyebrow and earning a slap to her bicep. Then her eyes soften. “Seriously, though, I’m right here with you. Anything you need. You don’t have to go through it completely alone.”
“Yeah, I know.” And she means it.
Over the next few weeks, Yolanda reads more about fertility than she thinks she ever read in medical school. So much so that she begins to form an idea of a decision on how to go about this. Trinity reads some things with her. Researches other clinics and processes. Even going as far as to how adoption works for a solo parent. Together, they both pour over documents and studies and websites, sitting on the floor of Yolanda’s living room.
“You don’t think I’m crazy?” Yolanda asks at a certain point, gulping down her wine, as she peers at Trinity over the rim of her glass.
Trinity, looking impossibly soft in the warm light of the apartment, pauses her reading to look up at her. She furrows her brows. “Why would I?”
“Because I’m doing this alone. Because I’m throwing myself into this. A baby. Like a whole ass child. It’s going to change everything.” She says nervously.
“Landa…” Trinity frowns. “I don’t think you’re crazy. It probably feels crazy because it’s…well…like you said, a whole ass child.” She offers her a smile. “And you’re not going to do it alone. It takes a village, right? That’s what they say. And you want this.”
“I’m scared there’s a part of me that is rushing it. Because of the probability of it not happening down the line.”
Trinity puts the papers down, leans forward on the coffee table. “Okay. Let’s go over it then.” She readjusts, looking at Yolanda. “Why do you want a baby?”
Yolanda purses her lips, smiles softly at Trinity’s game face. “I want to raise someone good.” She sees it land in Trinity’s face. “I want to nurture someone the same way my family did for me. That kind of love. Raise them to be kind, brave. I’d like to leave something good behind.”
She doesn’t say anything in response for a few seconds. But her eyes don’t look away. And then she smiles, one of those Trinity smiles, green eyes all shiny. “I think you’re going to be the best mom.”
It does something to her chest. Her heart squeezes and she breathes out. For a moment she closes her eyes and she can feel Trinity shuffle closer, so she can reach out and grab her hand.
“I’m doing this.” She says, the words impossibly loud yet quiet. But a decision has been made. She opens her eyes and finds Trinity’s green ones staring at her. “The whole thing. IVF. Donated egg.”
“Yeah?” Trinity smiles at her.
“Fuck.” Yolanda drops her face into her hands. And Trinity huffs out a tiny laugh, shuffling even closer so she can wrap her arms around her. “Jesus fucking Christ, I think I might have a heart attack.”
Trinity kisses her shoulder. “It’s gonna be great.”
“You’re being very sure of this whole thing.”
“Landa…if there’s anyone on this earth known as an overachiever, it’s you. So, if you’re going to set your mind on having a baby, you’re gonna do it better than anyone else on this earth.”
Yolanda snorts, shaking her head, eyes a little misty maybe, a little wine drunk and a little overwhelmed. “A whole life.” She says and the words hang between them like a weighted sound, held tightly in their arms.
“A whole life.” Trinity hums.
•
Yolanda supposes she wasn’t meant to listen in at all. But sometimes, she likes to walk by Trinity’s floor. Maybe it shouldn’t have come as much of a surprise when Trinity made the call to go into pediatrics. She’s technically still double boarding in emergency medicine and pediatrics. But in a year, Trinity is going to be splitting shifts between peds and the Pitt. In a more official capacity.
The point of it all is that Yolanda should’ve guessed. Trinity was the Pitt’s go to person for kids even when she hadn’t made up her mind about it. And yeah, she likes to sometimes drop off her coffee at the NICU just so she can catch a glimpse of the way she works down there.
Her soft voice travels through the quiet of the room. Her hand is gently rubbing a baby’s chest through the intubation chamber. He’s a little fussy. So she’s singing. A Filipino lullaby. She has a pretty voice that Yolanda has witnessed on more than one occasion. She likes to pretend she isn’t that great of a singer. But Yolanda has heard too much and will never allow such a lie.
It hits her, rather suddenly, that if everything goes well, Trinity will probably be singing a lullaby to her baby in less than a year’s time.
“There you go, buddy. Shh.” She hears Trinity’s low voice. Then she looks back at the door, unsurprised to find her there. Motions her over with a grin. “You keep spying on me.”
“And you have spidey senses.” She murmurs quietly, walking forwards to stand beside her, looking down at the fragile little thing inside the incubator.
“This is Eli, he was born a little too soon so he needs a little help.” Trinity explains in that too soft voice that makes her heart ache a little.
“He’s so tiny.” Yolanda hums.
“He is, but he’s a fighter.” Trinity smiles looking down at him. “He’ll be out of here in no time. I forced his dad to go get something to eat.”
“Mmmh. Have you eaten?” She questions.
“Entrapment.” She shakes her head. “I had a shitty energy bar a couple of hours ago. I’m fine.” She dismisses.
“I won’t always be there to catch you if you faint.” She grins.
Trinity snorts, rolling her eyes. “That was one time and I was sleep deprived.” But she doesn’t argue when Yolanda hands her the banana she’d been holding. And then motions her out the door. “You came here with a plan.”
“Sue me. You forget to eat, Santos.” They make their way towards the elevator together.
“Careful, you’re gonna lose your big bad surgeon cred if someone catches you.” She jokes.
“I think my street cred is gone after your fainting episode.” With a snort, she pushes the elevator button. “Now, I simply have to reinforce that there’s only one person in the entire building I don’t want to actively harm.”
“Dana described you as frazzled.”
“Dana exaggerated.”
“She said you told a med student to back the fuck away from me.”
There’s a beat where Yolanda purses her lips and then shrugs. “He looked incompetent.”
She looks unconvinced. “He runs off every time you go down to the Pitt.”
“Good.”
Trinity laughs genuinely while Yolanda looks mildly peeved when prompted to even think about the med student who tried to assess Trinity. He’d been an annoying know it all presence when she just wanted Trinity to be taken care of quickly. She won’t admit that it was actually scary as shit to see her drop to the floor, stepping out of a trauma room, and that she was actually frazzled and maybe a little panicked.
The elevator dings as its doors open. And Yolanda steps inside and looks at Trinity pointedly.
“Eat the banana.”
Trinity grins as she salutes. “Meet you by the car in three hours.”
She’s waiting for Trinity in the parking lot. They’re having dinner with Dennis and Victoria. Now that neither of them work at the hospital, it’s significantly harder to find the time to get together, which means when such an opportunity arises, they have to take it when their schedules align.
Yolanda feels like there’s now a whole secret that belongs only to her and Trinity. And it’s not even actually happening yet. Well, the process has started. She’s started flicking through endless lists of donors and exams. But it’s something that only Trinity knows about, which means the life changing process she’s embarked on feels like an inflated balloon inside her chest. It’s on her mind most of the time now. And she wants it to work. Maybe a little desperately.
And Trinity is the only person in her life who knows. And maybe she’s being an idiot about this, but somehow knowing what she knows, to go to dinner with their friends (she can’t believe she’s just thought Victoria as a friend), it feels like she’s walking into the restaurant with a sign above her head that says I’m trying to have a baby.
“Why is your face doing that?”
She startles at Trinity’s voice. She’s just now arriving in front of her and she hadn’t noticed. She's wearing a cute burgundy shirt that Yolanda has never seen on her before. It fits her perfectly. Cropped in a way that accentuates her figure. Trinity is a beautiful woman and Yolanda had admired her from the first time she’d laid eyes on her.
“Nice top.”
“Down, dog.” Trinity jokes. And then narrows her eyes. “So?”
“So what?”
“Tell me.” She pushes at her shoulder, with a grin. “You’ve got your thinking face on.”
“I do not have a thinking face.” She argues.
“You absolutely do. It’s very close to your pissed off face. It’s why Vic is scared of you.”
“Okay, first of all, Victoria is not afraid of me. Two, I reject your analysis.” Yolanda jabs a finger into her ribs. And Trinity jerks away, snorting.
“You still call her Victoria.” She points out and Yolanda shakes her head. “But seriously, everything okay?”
Yolanda pauses, looks at the way the wind is blowing onto Trinity, her hair flying back. “All good.” She murmurs. “Come on, we should get going if we want to beat traffic.” And she starts moving towards the driver’s side. “And by the way, excuse me for needing a period of adjustment to recognize Victoria as an adult.”
Trinity shakes her head as she gets into the car. “It’s literally been three years.”
“Yeah, and I can still picture a fourteen year old sitting dramatically on a chair waiting for Shamsi.”
“How does one dramatically sit?”
“Wide eyed. Odd angles. Weird energy.” She starts the car and begins to reverse it. Trinity has that dumb ass smile on her face like she can’t quite believe Yolanda’s perspective.
“You called her last week because she twisted her ankle and reminded her how to treat it.”
“I’m failing to understand how that’s relevant to this conversation.”
“You like her.” Trinity accuses her, a grin on her face and she can feel those green eyes piercing into the face of her face.
“I’m concerned about your friend’s well being. She sucks at taking care of herself.”
“She’ll make a great babysitter, you know?”
That seems to pull everything in the car to halt. And Yolanda fights the smile that threatens to appear on her face. Because Trinity’s certainty is sometimes overwhelming as of late. And because Yolanda loves her for being so certain it will happen, in a way Yolanda can’t bring herself to be.
So she clears her throat and says too softly, too earnestly. “Yeah, she will.”
And Trinity makes a tiny little strangled sound. And then after a moment. “Landa.”
“What?”
“How was the appointment?” She asks gently. Her hand moves so it rests on Yolanda’s knee.
She glances at her and then back at the road. “Everything looks good. I have several files in the trunk to make choices on donors now.”
“Shit.” Trinity breathes. “For real?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I help?”
Yolanda chuckles. “I assumed you would. I want your brain.” Then she adds. “It feels weird.”
Trinity hums. “What does?”
“Choosing it.” She answers. “Not the sperm donor. I don’t know, I’d always assumed that was something I’d have to choose if I ever wanted to get pregnant. But picking out someone for the egg is stranger.” And before she can stop herself, she confesses something. “I always thought if it wasn’t my egg, it’d be my partner’s. Is that fucked up?”
“Of course not.” She shakes her head. “I guess it’s normal to readjust now. Obviously.”
Yolanda sits with it for a bit. “I think I’ve picked out the sperm donor.”
“Ugh, I long for the day science evolves and I no longer have to hear about sperm.” Trinity sighs mockingly and Yolanda huffs out a small laugh, relates to it but has grown somewhat immune to the word sperm in the last few weeks. “But do tell.”
“Well, he looks like me. Genetics screening looks perfect. Family history is positive. All that jazz. Panamá heritage.” She explains. “But I’m open to a second opinion. If you want to get into it after dinner. I can come over.”
Trinity smiles softly at that, in peripheral vision Yolanda sees it form and something in her chest releases. She has her. She will never be alone so long as she has her. And when Trinity squeezes her knee, without saying another word, Yolanda finds that Trinity Santos is probably the steadiest thing in her life.
When they pull up to the restaurant, a new Mexican place that had opened and the coolest according to Victoria. They park the car easily and by the entrance, Dennis is standing there staring at his phone. As soon as the car comes to halt, Trinity sprints out towards Dennis as though she hasn’t seen him in years.
Still inside the car, Yolanda observes as Dennis’ face lights up at the sight of Trinity Santos and he opens his arms. Then he sweeps her off the ground, their laughter mingling together.
“Huckleberry.” She hears her voice call out as she steps out of the car and locks it behind her as she approaches them. “You look like you haven’t slept in a week.”
Dennis rolls his eyes. “Fuck off.” He says with no real bite and turns to Yolanda. “Hello, evil menace.”
“White chocolate.” She nods coldly before Dennis does that stupid little grin thing and opens his arms.
“Hey, I’m trying to give you a hug. It’s this thing normal people-”
She hugs him forcefully. “Dumbass. I’ve given you too much power.”
“Oh, just enough, Yolanda.” He grins when he pulls back.
“Where’s Vic?” Trinity questions.
“I believe Victoria is the purple stain somewhere in the distance.” Yolanda mentions as a flurry of purple runs dramatically towards them. “See, dramatic.” She elbows Trinity who shakes her head at her.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” They hear her screams as she runs towards them. When she gets close enough, she hugs Trinity first. “Sorry.”
“You’re fine, Crash, we just got here.”
“Of course you did, you’re both chronically late.” She pulls away to then grab hold of Yolanda, who hugs her quickly.
“How did you just get here and we’re already catching flak?” Trinity snorts. “Must be a record.”
When they sit down for dinner, Victoria is launching into a story about her mother and how deeply irritating she’s being as of late while Yolanda tries to vaguely remind her that Shamsi is still technically her boss and she needs to pretend she knows nothing, even though Shamsi irritates her more and more given everything she knows about her relationship with her daughter.
Throughout dinner, Yolanda feels herself a lot less social than she’d like to be. And Trinity seems to notice because she takes over most of the conversation, leading it away from Yolanda, sending her a look that tells her she got the message, even going as far as squeezing her knee under the table.
And it’s at these moments, that her heart clenches in her chest and she finds that it would be so easy to fall into this again. But she knows now, there’s even more to lose. Because Trinity very well may be her person. And risking that is far too much. And she doesn’t even know if Trinity still feels the same as they did in the beginning. They could’ve changed. And Yolanda can’t take the risk and tell her only to find Trinity doesn’t want her in the same way. Sex was obviously one thing but to say she has feelings for her would obviously change everything. And the intimacy they share would be gone before she knew it.
Dinner ends with little fanfare but Yolanda’s mind is elsewhere anyway.
The thoughts she’s having are mistake number one.
Mistake number two is looking over the egg donor list with her.
Mistake number three is saying yes to what she proposes next.
On Trinity’s couch, Trinity looking cute in the glasses she pretends she doesn’t need and Yolanda pretending she doesn’t find her absolutely devastating. The level of tenderness with which she goes over every detail and speaks about the kid like they’re already real derails most of her train of thought.
It’s why when Trinity speaks after the list and the files are set on the coffee table, Yolanda thinks she must’ve stopped breathing.
“What if I were to donate an egg?”