Vicky checks her cell again before placing it back in her purse, turning her attention back on me. “I get why you’re pissed off at him after what Eloise told you. But what did he say or do the night before for you to get so worked up, Pres?”
“Nothing,” I mumble. “It’s not even worth talking about. Just distract me. Tell me what happened with Patrick.”
Once Vicky gets started on Patrick, it’s like listening to a soap opera. Apparently, he separated from his wife because she busted him cheating with some secretary at his firm. Although they aren’t divorced yet, he seems eager to move on with his single life, and Vicky’s name is at the top of his list.
“You’ll be proud of me! I didn’t touch him whatsoever.”
“Good, because I would hate for you to be here one day, pushing out a baby that belongs to a jerk!” I scream suddenly, riding out another contraction that catches me by surprise.
I squeeze both Kate’s and Vicky’s hands, and I only let go when the pain subsides. They let go as soon as I relax again and shake their hands to stop the numbing. I hadn’t realized how tight I was squeezing till I saw their pale white hands.
Exhausted from the tides of pain, I manage to close my eyes for what feels like only a brief moment. Time is lost on me, and when Lex walks back into the room with the doctor, I pray for pain relievers and a positive solution.
“Miss Malone, you’ve gone into early labor and the baby is distressed. We need to operate shortly,” the doctor informs me.
“Wait, operate? You can’t cut me open! That’s why I have a vagina!” I yell, out of breath as I choke, panicking.
The midwife strolls in and takes Vicky’s spot, patting my forehead with a cloth. She talks to me but all I hear is blah, blah, blah. I’m certain I’m going to pass out from the sheer terror of this all. I begin to cry, wanting my mom or sister, someone familiar to comfort me and not this stranger. With Vicky and Kate sent to the waiting area, the pain mixed with my desperate pleas drown out an army of nurses who come into the room and unlock the wheels to my bed.
“We’re going to wheel you to the operating room now.”
The doors open and my girls are to my side with Lex behind them. The sobbing starts again, and I desperately hold onto their arms, not wanting to let go.
“It’s gonna be okay, Pres,” Vicky whispers. “The Jerk hasn’t picked up his phone but I’ll keep trying.”
“I’m scared,” I cry through thin, strained sobs.
“I know, sweetie, but I promise you’ll be okay.”
“How do you know?”
“Because you’re my best friend and you have to be.” She kisses my forehead with tears falling down her cheeks. Kate looks equally distraught but is attempting to smile, reassuring me everything’s going to be okay. Lex stands beside Kate and offers his kind words.
“It’ll be over before you know it and you’ll be holding that beautiful baby of yours in your arms.” He smiles, looking somewhat nostalgic.
“Great, I think someone just got baby fever again,” Kate says as she rolls her eyes at him.
I manage to smile through my tears before their faces disappear down the hall.
There’s something to be said for being a patient in an operating room; it’s the most surreal out-of-body experience there is. The sterile walls and bright lights somehow create a calm before the storm. I’ve zoned out, only barely hearing the distant voices. Things are thrown over me, poke and prod me. When a contraction rocks me to the core, they warn me they are giving me an epidural and the pain is suddenly washed away.
I want to smile.
I want to laugh and run through the fields, dancing and carefree.
What a fucking relief.
In a sea of calm, I stare into the light, blissfully dazed, until the doors burst open and the Jerk rushes in. The guards behind the surgeons are trying to catch him, and when the nurse figures out who he is, they give him a gown and a mask and make him sanitize his hands. He is by my side so fast, with bloodshot eyes surrounded by a thick black bruise; he looks a complete wreck.
The stale stench of alcohol lingers on his breath as he sits closer to me. Jesus, he is drunk.
“Really? This is how you welcome our child into the world? Drunk and covered in dried blood?” I whisper.
“It’s a long story.”
“We’ve got time. In case you haven’t noticed, I ain’t going anywhere anytime soon.”
“I don’t want to get into it now.”
“Why? Because Eloise is pregnant, too?” I spit back, accusing him in front of the entire medical team.
The anesthesiologist tries not to smile, but it’s obvious behind her mask. It doesn’t stop me from asking the questions the Jerk doesn’t want to answer.
“She’s not pregnant, okay? I don’t know why she told you all that,” he answers, sounding short-tempered. “We have a baby to bring into this world, so enough questions, Malone.”
“Well, you’re still a jerk and your roses suck,” I mutter.
He doesn’t respond, focusing on what is happening behind the makeshift wall between my head and my stomach. At this moment, I notice his bloody shirt and split lip for the first time. He grabs my hand and entwines his fingers into mine. It’s not the right moment to pull my hand away from his and start another argument. So I just wait and stare at the ceiling, avoiding his bruised and battered face and my bruised and battered ego.
There’s chatter, chaos, and anticipation around me. Time becomes fuzzy and my eyes continue to watch the lights until the moment my heart jumps out my chest, singing a song of ecstasy. The moment the sound of my baby’s wail breaks the silence, and officially, we welcome a son into the world.
There is joy throughout the room, and I stretch my neck to see the little wrinkly baby lifted into the air, covered in goo. I am besotted and smiling through my tears at the beautiful sight. Moving my head to the left, I watch as they take him away to clean him up, rubbing him vigorously with a towel. Then the nurse wraps him up and calls Haden over. She hands him our son, and with a slow and careful pace, he walks over to me with a gentle smile and brings the baby closer so I can study him properly.
I am in awe.
He is the epitome of beauty, and everything else in my life becomes insignificant because this little baby has completely stolen my heart.
“Say hello to Mommy,” Haden whispers, bringing the baby close to my face. I stare at him in astonishment, and desperate to touch him, I rub my nose along his cheek and smell his soft skin.
He has broken me, but in a good way.
My ill feelings towards Haden wash away at this very moment because of my gratitude.
If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t be experiencing a love so great. A love that consumes me whole.
I love him, more than life itself.
The baby, that is.
And maybe, somewhere very deep inside, the Jerk as well.
I yearn for peace, silence, and a moment to take it all in. I yearn for life to stop, even if just for a minute, so I can stare at my son’s face and absorb the miracle that is this beautiful baby boy.
From the moment they wheeled me out of recovery and into my room, there was an endless stream of visitors armed with flowers, balloons, and blue, stuffed toys. It was like a nonstop circus. If it wasn’t for the adrenaline running through my veins, the circus would have gone on around a sleeping Presley.
It wasn’t just the visitors, but the nurses as well. They bustled around me, doing their rounds and checking on the baby and me. Haden, being the stubborn jerk he was, refused to leave the room, wanting to make sure everything was okay. But I had to put my foot down during the breastfeeding tutorial. My boobs out for show and a baby that had difficulty latching on due to his size was something I didn’t want Haden seeing. Of course, my wishes weren’t respected; I found out that he went to the nurses’ station to ask questions about my boobs and the nurse happily went on and on about them.