She laughs. “Hey, don’t knock my show. General Hospital has some of the longest-running relationships I’ve ever known.”
I laugh, remembering just a tiny sliver of detail from our days of watching it together after school. “Are Sonny and Carly still together?”
“Not right now. But they have seven kids and, as you know, are always on-again, off-again.”
“Aha!” I declare. “So, I was right. You do still watch it.”
“Not every episode!” she defends through a giggle. “I don’t have the time. But I catch about one every two weeks or so, and it’s easy enough to keep up.”
“I love that. Makes me almost feel like we’re kids again.”
Maria’s eyes hold mine as we walk, and I have to glance away to make sure we don’t bump into anyone in our path. We’ve gotten pretty deep into the park at this point, and when I see something up ahead, I can’t resist having a little fun.
“Stay right here,” I tell her as I start to climb the giant rock in Central Park, her eyes widening to the point of strain.
“Remy—” she calls, clearly concerned by my climbing while wearing Izzy, but I know with one-hundred-percent confidence that this moment will be worth her temporary freak-out. I’m also a pro at this rock from back in my wild childhood days. My brothers and I utilized it often for sneak attacks on one another.
“It’s fine,” I call back, being careful with my foot and hand work as I pick my way to the top. Izzy coos a little in the carrier at my chest, having just woken up and enjoying the ride. “I promise. She’s liking it!”
“Remy, she’s six weeks old. She’d probably like razor blades and needles if I let her!”
I laugh at that; I can’t help it. Maria has always been funny, but I’m pretty sure she’s gotten even funnier with age.
“You’re right, Ri. We’d better be careful,” I call down as I climb. “Forget preschools. Let’s start looking for a good toddler rehab.”
“I don’t appreciate your jokes right now, Remington Winslow.”
“Oh wow,” I whisper down at Izzy. “She must be serious. She’s using her mom voice.”
“I can’t hear what you’re saying, but I just want you to know I can tell you’re talking about me.”
I laugh and turn around carefully to wink down at Maria. “I was just telling her how beautiful you are.”
“You’re so full of shit.”
I pretend to cover Izzy’s ears as I make it to the top and turn around dramatically. “Language, Maria. There are little ears here.”
“I hope your dry cleaner is good with blood.”
I chuckle as I grab my phone out of my jeans pocket and search until I find what I’m looking for.
“Remington Winslow, get your ass down here!” Maria calls toward us, but I’m already working to unbuckle Izzy from the carrier.
I turn her in my arms to swing her slightly as she fusses a little. I give her nose a quick brush of mine that makes her relax, and then I turn and present her to all of Central Park Prideland. As planned, the music from The Lion King crashes into full volume from the speaker of my phone, and I fall into my stance with pride.
“An heir!” I yell into the distance so loud that strangers start to turn and look.
Maria’s face turns beet red in an instant, but there’s a subtle smile there too as she buries her face into her hands.
Of course, that reaction only makes me yell louder. “An heir has been born!”
And Izzy is my ride-or-die, stretching her little neck like she’s watched this movie before.
A couple of passersby amused by our display stop and even bow down to the new Queen of Pride Rock. “Congratulations!” one exclaims. “She’s gorgeous!”
“Lord help me, you’re crazy!” Maria shouts up toward us, her embarrassment receding and giving way to the kind of genuine smile I was going for. She plays it cool, though, just to keep me on my toes. “And where are Scar and the hyenas when you need them?”
“You wish harm on poor Simba?” I call, tucking Izzy to my chest and covering her ears dramatically.
“No, no. Just Mufasa. The big, cocky prick.”
A couple of straggling strangers laugh at that, and a smile spreads from one corner of my mouth to the other.
“Can you come down here now?” Maria requests with a stubborn hand to her hip. “Or do I have to call your mother?”
I laugh. “Wendy would be thrilled to hear from you.”