Craving Redemption (38 page)

As those first months passed by, I grew.

My belly became more and more prominent, becoming so large that even maternity shirts left a little sliver of belly showing whenever I moved. As it swelled, I gained line after line of angry red stretch marks, beginning at my hips and wrapping around the lower half of my belly, making me look like I’d gone head to head with Freddy Kruger and his knife fingers.

My bump wasn’t the only thing that grew in those months. My boobs became massive, so massive that Farrah would run around the house with my bra on her head like a yarmulke, spouting off random Hebrew words. My feet were so swollen that Gram made me spend hours each night with them elevated, though it never seemed to help. My cheeks, thighs, and ass grew rounder until I looked like a snowman with all my lumps.

And as my body changed and I recorded everything for Asa, my resentment grew.

One morning, almost five months after Asa went to prison, I woke up having contractions. It scared the hell out of me and filled me with so much adrenaline I was shaking. I climbed out of bed slowly, taking the time to shower and blow dry my hair before I woke Farrah up. When I was finally ready, I strode into her room, only to find her up and putting her shoes on.

“I heard you in the shower and you never get up this early. Baby time?” she asked me briskly as she pulled her hair into a high ponytail. She’d slowly but surely come back to the girl she was before, and I wondered how much of it was because of her need to take care of me. It seemed that both of us had broken at different times and the only thing that put us back together was the other’s need. It was a hell of a cycle.

“Yep. Let’s go over and wake Gram up,” I told her as she passed me. “Wait for me!”

The bubble I was floating on at the thought of racing to the hospital and popping out my son was burst when we got to Gram’s apartment.

“You don’t need to go to the hospital yet,” she stated matter-of-factly. “I’m gonna go get dressed. I’ll be out in a minute.”

I watched her walk into my old room with my jaw hanging wide open at her nonchalant reaction. I was having a baby! Did she not see the urgency in the situation?
What the hell?

Farrah was pacing behind me when Gram finally came out of her room, wearing an entire set of jogging gear. She even had a sweatband on her head.

‘What the hell are you wearing?” Farrah barked, bending at the waist as she burst out in hysterical laughter.

I glared at Gram, waiting for an explanation, but she just smiled cheerily back at me.

“Time to go for a walk!” she ordered, clapping her hands together.

“I’m in labor, Gram. We need to go to the hospital,” I explained slowly, wondering if she’d finally lost her mind.

“Walking first, Callie Rose,” she told me as she pushed me toward the door. “Trust me on this; go put some tennis shoes on.”

She closed the door on Farrah’s laughter as I stood on the landing, gaping.

I wished my brother hadn’t left for school a few months before. He’d understand my need for the hospital. He wouldn’t tell me to put shoes on, or laugh, or force me to walk.

I trudged to the house and put shoes on, meeting Gram and Farrah outside.

“We’ll walk around the block first,” Gram informed us, taking off before we could reply. I had to race to catch up with her, which wasn’t helping my contractions or swollen feet one bit.

“First?” I practically yelled. “What the hell, Gram?”

“You’re not even breathing hard, and I bet those contractions barely hurt,” she said with a nod as she came to a stop on the sidewalk. “You don’t want to be sitting in a damn hospital bed waiting for hours and hours before anything even starts happening. Walking gets things moving.”

She gave me a squeeze on the arm before turning and stalking off again.

So, we walked.

And walked, and walked, and walked, until the sun was inching toward the middle of the sky and my contractions were coming hard and painful. Yet, we still didn’t head to the hospital.

First, Gram helped me take a shower and braided my hair. Next, she made a small breakfast for me and Farrah. Then she called my brother to let him know that we were leaving.

After all of that, I was still barely dilated when we got to the hospital.

It took hours for me to reach the point where I felt the need to push, and I was exhausted. The anesthesiologist had come in around six that night and put a huge needle in my back, almost instantly providing relief from the pain, but I still didn’t get any rest. It was impossible to turn my mind off long enough to get more than fifteen minutes of sleep at a time, and the pressure of the contractions wasn’t helping the situation.

I wanted Asa so badly that it was hard to breathe at times.

I wondered what he was doing as I was laboring and if he knew that we were at the hospital. I wondered if he could feel somewhere in his gut how badly I needed him in those moments.

I pushed for over an hour, Gram and Farrah at my knees, bracing against them as I burst blood vessels in my cheeks and eyes. They encouraged, cajoled, and wiped my face with a cool washcloth—but nothing, and no one, was a substitute for Asa.

“I need Asa, Gram,” I wailed, completely out of my mind with fear and exhaustion. “I’m tired. I want Asa.”

“I know, darlin’. But he can’t come so we’re gonna have to make due.” She wiped my hair back from my forehead with the palm of her hand. “Let’s get your boy out. You can do this, Callie.”

“I can do it,” I answered with a nod, any reassurance giving me strength at that point. “I can do it. Let’s get him out. I want him out.”

“That’s right. Push, Callie. Push!”

I grit my teeth and bore down, and within minutes, I felt him sliding from my body, screaming.

They laid him on my chest, covered in gross white crap and blood, and all I could think about was how much I loved him, and that he had Asa’s nose.

“Why are his balls so huge?” Farrah gasped in fear.

The nurses started laughing loudly. “There’s a lot of pressure on him in the birth canal, and he’s got mom’s hormones running through him. They’ll go down in a few days,” a nurse assured Farrah as she gently picked my boy up. “I’m just going to weigh him and test him real quick,” she directed at me, giving me an understanding smile. “I’ll bring him right back.”

“Take pictures, Gram!” I called to her as she followed the nurse to the little bed on the other side of the room.

The next few minutes were a disgusting mess of delivering the placenta and getting stitches. Yes, stitches. The only downside to having children with Asa was his son’s ridiculously broad shoulders.

“Here you go, mama,” Gram called tenderly as she brought the baby to me and laid him on my chest again. “You might want to start trying to breastfeed. Good for him to start right away.”

“Okay,” I whispered, reaching blindly for the button to raise my bed as I watched him open and close his mouth. “He looks like Asa.”

“Yeah, but he’s got your skin, lucky little booger,” Farrah commented quietly, reaching out with one finger to touch the side of his face. “What’s his name?”

“William Butler Hawthorne,” I answered, watching as her eyes widened before she schooled her features.

“Good choice,” she replied with a small smile. “Hey, Will.”

Chapter 65

Grease

Almost five months down and only twenty more to go.

I was trying not to count the fucking minutes, but it was hard as hell. Shit wasn’t bad inside—if you didn’t care about the nasty-ass food and complete lack of freedom. Thankfully, we had boys on the inside, so I’d rarely had to bust heads to make sure fuckers left me alone. Between the other Aces locked up for a variety of crimes, and my size, guys didn’t mess with me much.

I picked up the phone and went through all of the shit I needed to do to call Callie, anxious to hear her voice after a night of barely any sleep. We’d passed her due date a couple of days ago, and I couldn’t’ sleep wondering if she was okay. After all our years of living far away from each other, I was used to not seeing her gorgeous face every day, but it fucking sucked that I couldn’t call her whenever I had the urge. I had to wait until the fucking designated times, which usually meant I was waiting hours before I had the chance.

Her phone rang and rang, and when she didn’t answer, my heart started thumping hard in my chest. I tried to tell myself that she was probably sleeping, or forgot her phone somewhere, but I knew in my gut neither of those were true. She
always
answered her phone, no matter what she was doing.

I hung up and started the process over again, calling Rose this time, but she didn’t answer, either. My hands were shaking and my chest felt like it had a hundred-pound weight on it as I hung up and started again. The guy behind me in line started bitching about how he was waiting for the phone, and it took all I had not to turn around and shut him up. All it would take was one fist to the jaw, but I knew if I started a fight, I’d have to wait God knows how long before I got to a phone again.

I took a deep breath in relief when Cody answered.

“Hello?”

“Hey, man, it’s Grease,” I told him quietly.

“Hey, how’ve you been?” I could hear cars in the background and wind blowing into the cellphone, making my gut clench for a second as I imagined life outside.

“I’m good. Livin’ the dream,” I answered flatly, causing him to chuckle.

“Yeah, I bet. What’s up?”

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of your sister, but no one’s answering. You know where she might be?”

There was silence on the end of the line for so long that I thought I’d lost him. “Hello?”

“Yeah, I’m here. I just—no one has gotten a hold of you?”

“Not sure how they could,” I replied calmly, as I felt myself breaking into a cold sweat.

“Yeah, just a sec.” I heard some shuffling, and Cody said something to someone before it was silent on his end again. “Had to go out in the hallway—class is starting.” He paused while I held my fucking breath and clenched my teeth against the need to scream at him to just spit it the fuck out.

“Callie went into labor yesterday,” he told me quietly. “It took a while, but she had him this morning. Gram says everything went well. She’s doing good and so is the baby.”

I locked my knees so I didn’t fall to the floor and rubbed the back of my neck with my fingers.
Fuck me. Fuck. Fuck.

I couldn’t say anything. I knew he was waiting for a response, but my throat felt like it was swollen shut. She’d had our son and I’d missed it because I was rotting in a fucking shithole prison. I’d known that I was missing out on a ton of shit while I was in there, but what I’d lost had never been clearer.

I had to restrain myself as I heard the douche behind me complaining again.

“She’s good, man. Gram said she was up and walking around right after she had him, and he scored high on all the tests they do.”

“Do—” I stuttered and cleared my throat in an attempt to get it together. “Do you know how big he was, or any of that shit?”

“Uh, I think I wrote it down. I was writing all of it down when she called me because I knew I’d forget it if I didn’t,” he mumbled. “Had this hot as fuck chick in my room, I was a little preoccupied.”

I waited silently as he searched, even though I wanted to tell him that I didn’t give a flying fuck about his bang from the night before.

“Got it!” he called. “He weighed eight pounds and two ounces, and he was twenty-three inches long. Gram said that’s a pretty good-sized kid. I didn’t write down how big his head was, though—sorry.”

I swallowed over and over, trying to get my shit together as I stared at the yellowing tile under my feet.
A good-sized kid. I had a good-sized son.

“Need to make a fuckin’ call!” the guy bitched behind me.

“Do you know what she named him?” I asked hoarsely, ignoring the douche—anxious to know anything Cody could tell me and irritated that I had to drag shit out of him.

“Yeah. William Butler Hawthorne,” he answered proudly.

“Thanks, man, I gotta go.” I hung up on him as he tried to say something else. I didn’t know how much longer I would’ve been able to keep talking to him without losing my shit.

Hawthorne. She gave him my name.

As soon as I put the phone down, I spun and faced the fucker that had been on my ass since the minute I’d picked up the phone. His eyes widened in fear when he saw the look on my face, but I didn’t give him a chance to apologize.

I swung my arm and punched him hard in the throat, following as he fell to the ground. I beat the shit out of him until the guards pulled me away, and even though I knew I was getting solitary for the fight, I wasn’t sorry.

Because, if I hadn’t used my fists, I would have sobbed like a fucking baby.

I had a son.

Chapter 66

Callie

I had to wait a week after Will was born to talk to Asa. Cody’d said he’d spoken to him the morning I gave birth, and I was frustrated Gram had silenced our phones so I could get some rest. I would have rather spoken to Asa than slept, especially when we didn’t hear from him again.

“Asa!” I answered happily.

“Hey, mama, how’s our boy?” his voice was gravelly and low, and I felt my eyes fill with tears. Dear God, I missed him.

“He’s good. Eating like a pig right now.”

“Yeah? You decide to breastfeed?”

“That’s the plan,” I told him ruefully. For something so natural, it sure wasn’t as easy as I’d envisioned.

“You telling me your tits are hanging out right now?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Shut it. Your son’s eating. It’s not sexy.”

“Sugar, you’re always sexy
and
you’re feeding our son. Can’t think of anything more beautiful,” he whispered softly.

“I miss you like crazy.”

“You have no idea,” he grumbled. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, I’m sore, especially with the stitches, but it’s not horrible. And my boobs hurt.”

“Stitches?”

“Your son has broad shoulders,” I answered dryly.