Tragic Love (12 page)

It’s no mystery Delilah and Darcie don’t get along. They are two completely different people who love the same person. After Darcie’s prediction of Jake and Delilah’s relationship fell flat and seeing them actually getting along—well, for the most part—she holds resentment toward her for ruining her summer entertainment. It’s all very confusing and chick related. I don’t pretend to understand. The short three months they spent together was enough for anyone to pull their hair out. Granted, they never rolled around in a mud wrestling pit, but they constantly nitpicked at each other, and by the end of August, I was ready to kill them both.

I pull out my phone and scroll through the contacts. Then I come to
Delilah St. James
. Presley’s birthing coach, or some shit. I tried not to be offended when Presley asked if she could be in the room to support her, like I was useless. Okay, so a woman pushing a person from their body is a little weird, but this is different. This is
my
child we are talking about, not some stranger on a thirty-year-old child birthing video with the woman sporting a 1970’s porn bush between her legs. It won’t be too gross… will it?

“Hello?” Delilah answers with a deep southern drawl.

“We’re heading to the hospital. How soon can you get here?” I ask while allowing Presley to squeeze my hand.

“Oh, my Lord! It’s happening now?” She releases a frantic sigh and shouts to a person to get out of her way. I try to restrain laughter because Delilah couldn’t hurt a fly. “I checked the flights to Detroit this morning. Something I’ve been doing everyday for the past week and I can book a non-stop flight to Detroit leaving in one hour. The flight is approximately two hours, and the drive is another two. I should be there in less than five hours.” Delilah hangs up the phone and I’m thinking there is no why she can make it from Detroit in less than two hours, it’s at least a two and a half hour drive and that’s when I’m driving almost ten miles over the speed limit.

Darcie peels out of the driveway and flies down the street at the same time I shoot a quick text to Jeremy, letting him know we are on our way to the hospital.

My hands are shaking as the reality of my life hits me like a thousand pound brick. My life is about to change forever. Today, I become a father. At that thought, I start to panic. I have no idea how to be a father. My dad abandoned me before I was born and my mother sold me for heroin when I was three, so the parent role model department is a little sparse. Reggie has been my father figure and I gauge everything I do from him, but I know he’s not perfect. Then there’s Darcie, and well, she’s as motherly as Darcie can be, which isn’t much. I’m only nineteen-fucking-years-old. You would think the ‘oh shit’ moment would have happened sooner, like when I read that damn pregnancy test, or when Presley’s belly started to grow, or seeing the little one on the ultrasound screen. But no, my reality is catching up to me and I feel like freaking out. I look over to Presley and she looks like I do. Completely scared shitless. Okay, at least we’re in this together.

Presley is rushed to the maternity ward and suited up ready to give birth to our child. Hours pass by and the progress is slow, but the time is almost here. She’s breathing and squeezing my hand. I kick Jake and Darcie out to have a few silent moments with her. She squeezes her eyes shut while breathing through the contractions. The doctor steps out after checking her progress and informs us she is dilated to eight centimeters and it won’t be too much longer. “I can’t do this, Drake,” she whispers through her tears.

I caress her hand and kiss her palm. “You’re doing great, baby. It won’t be long and the hard part will be over, okay.” I have no idea what I’m saying because I didn’t know what she is going through, but I’m trying to be as comforting as possible.

“That’s not… not what I mean,” she sputters. “I can’t do this, be a mother. I won’t be good at it; I can’t even take care of myself. How am I supposed to raise a baby?” The tears pour down her cheeks and she wipes them off with the back of her hand. She’s having cold feet, but when Presley holds our newborn in her arms, love is all she’ll feel.

I start to tell her she’s crazy when I hear the southern drawl of Delilah down the hallway. The clicking of her heels collides with the tile floor and she’s telling someone to get a life; Jake I’m sure. The door pushes open and in walks Presley’s childhood friend. I shake my head because only Delilah would wear a dress and high heels to a birthing. She has her hair secured in a bun on top of her head and not a single hair is out of place, looking just as she always does, perfectly put together. Sometimes I wonder how she and Presley have stayed friends for so long. She is completely opposite of Presley in every way, but then I remind myself she’s actually friends with Jake and I change my initial thought of Delilah, she’s got to be a saint.

I look at the clock and realize she really did make it to the hospital in less than five hours. “How fast did you drive from Detroit?” I ask while Delilah sets down her stuff and makes her way over to the bed, grabbing Presley’s hand.

“Now, don’t you worry about that, honey. I’m here and that’s all that matters.” She looks over to Presley and rubs the back of her hand. “How you doing, sweetheart? Can I get you anything?”

Presley shakes her head no then closes her eyes through another contraction. She’s being so brave. I know she’s scared like the rest of us, but she will be an amazing mother because she’s amazing herself.

Thirty minutes later, her feet are propped and she’s pushing life from her body. I can’t look. I’m feeling a little light-headed and it’s hard to swallow. I keep my entire focus on Presley and then the most amazing sound fills the room. I turn to look and the doctor is holding up a beautiful little person covered in goo. He lays the baby on Presley’s stomach while nurses rub the slime off her body. “It’s a girl. Congratulations.”

Delilah releases a giggle and kisses Presley’s hand. Then I kiss her salty lips and tell her how proud of her I am. The nurse hands me a weird looking pair of scissors and tells me exactly where to cut the umbilical cord and then my baby girl is wrapped in a blanket and placed in Presley’s arms. She looks at her with astonishment. “I can’t believe she’s here,” she whispers as she stares at our child.

“Okay, get together,” Delilah says, holding up her phone to snap a picture.

I squeeze on the bed and Presley snuggles to my side, holding our beautiful baby girl. She’s tired and ready to sleep.

Lying here with Presley is a moment I will never forget because it’s the three of us now and I know this was meant for us. We were meant to be a family.

***

It’s been hours since our little girl was born. She is a healthy baby, weighing eight pounds nine ounces and twenty-four inches long. The nurses say she is a good sized baby and definitely gets her height from her daddy. To me she seems so tiny; I couldn’t imagine her being smaller.

The room is filled with everyone I love. Reggie is standing in the corner with his arms protectively wrapped around Darcie while wearing a proud grin on his face and I can’t help feeling emotional. Reggie is one of the best guys I know, and if he’s proud of me, then dammit, I’m proud of me, too. Jake and Delilah have been going back and forth for the last hour about naming our little girl.

“Her name needs to be Axl. The day I found out she was a girl “Sweet Child of Mine” blasted on the radio and it was fate for her to have a rock star name that kicks ass,” Jake disputes to the rest of us in the room. He’s trying to make his argument concrete, but there is no way I will name my daughter Axl. He has issues.

“Jake, don’t be stupid,” Delilah snaps. “You don’t understand the importance of a name and how it can make or break their social status in school and we should avoid names that are easily mocked. Roselyn is traditional, perfect and timeless, where Axl is not.”

“Roselyn? Really? Now that sounds pretty fucking stupid to me. Let’s just tattoo
kick me
on her forehead because, with a name like Roselyn, she will surely get the crap kicked out of her. Maybe in your princess cupcake land Roselyn is a great name, but here, not so much.”

Darcie chimes in just to be difficult. “I like Axl. It’s unique and it sounds like no one will fuck with her, just like Axl Rose.”

“Hell, yeah!” Jake cheers. I need to stop this train wreck before it gets worse. I look over to Presley, who has this overwhelming look on her face. She is holding our baby and looking tired and terrified all with the same look. I can’t help worrying. However, everything I’ve read says new mothers will experience bouts of sadness and feel overwhelmed the first few weeks after giving birth, something to do with their hormones.

I move to my feet and intervene to end the argument because I’ve taken all the suggestions I can stand. “We are not naming her Axl, Roselyn or any other weird freaking name. Presley and I settled on Mia Analise Evans.” I look over to Presley who’s fighting to keep her eyes open and grab a hold of her hand. “We chose Mia because we like the name and Analise is after her mother.” Looking at the clock, I see it’s after nine in the evening. Presley is completely wiped. ”Now, everyone needs to get the hell out so she can get her rest.”

“Well, I’m still calling her Axl,” Jake says. Delilah kicks him in the shin and Darcie simply laughs. Why do these people always have to be so frustrating?

I usher everyone to the door and quickly close it shut, leaning my back against the wood to take a moment to just bask in the quiet. I take Mia from Presley’s arms and lay her sleeping body down in her bed. When I look back, Presley is sound asleep with the blanket wrapped tightly around her tiny frame. I turn down the lights, kiss her forehead and say a silent prayer because my girls have made it through and they’re healthy.

Chapter 9

Presley

I can’t believe what just happened to me, to us. The last nine months have been a whirlwind and I was hoping my body would end it before it started, but it didn’t. I cannot be a mother. I don’t have what it takes to care for someone else when I don’t even want to care for myself. Drake is amazing, but he’s completely clueless as to how deep the dark cave of my doubts goes. I can never tell him how I truly feel; unbeknownst to him, I have nothing except grim thoughts and fears that I will not make it out of this motherhood thing alive. I know, deep down, that the day I walked away from that clinic I signed my death certificate and it’s a slow, agonizing pain that will eventually take him away from me and then my life will be gone.

I can’t do this.

As I hold my daughter in my arms, I study her. She is beautiful. She looks just like her daddy and that tugs at my heart. She’s not mine. I don’t deserve this little angel. She belongs to Drake, but not me. I never wanted her and I don’t want her now. She doesn’t deserve a mother like me because I could never love her the way she deserves to be loved. How can I tell Drake I don’t want her? That I want to give her to a family who can give her everything I can’t. He would be devastated.

I’m hollow, an abyss of loneliness, and I want out.

I never wanted in.

I walk over to Drake resting in the rocking chair and carry the little one in my arms. The look of pride gleams from his face as he accepts the baby in his arms. “Hey, my beautiful little Mia. Daddy loves you, and I always will,” Drake whispers to the sleeping child, and I know there’s no way I can convince him we made the wrong decision. I will suffer in the shadows alone because their bond will never break. Somehow, I have to make this work, but how? I climb back into my bed and shut out the thoughts of motherhood for a few more hours. I can’t do this right now and I don’t know if I ever can.

Drake

The moment I laid eyes on Mia, I was hooked. I fell instantly in love with this little person, and I wanted to do whatever I can to keep her safe. The hospital is quiet at three in the morning with the lights in the room turned down and only the bathroom nightlight shining. Once Presley laid our baby in my arms she went to her bed and fell into the deepest sleep.

I’m glad I sent everyone home hours ago. Presley was getting agitated and I just wanted to live in this moment for awhile without the rest of them. Jake was insistent on holding Mia first, which made me a little nervous, yet he told me she was cute for a meatloaf, I took the compliment and moved on.

Delilah practically ripped the child from my arms and smothered her with kisses. She was singing a god-awful country song, trying to pass it for a lullaby. It was horrendous. I was thrilled when she stopped, and frankly so was everyone else.

Reggie, Darcie and Jeremy just looked at Mia, but were too uncomfortable to pick her up. I, on the other hand, was not afraid to hold her. I’ve been waiting months to meet my daughter and I wasn’t about to pussy out by not holding her. I want to do everything for her and that includes the gross stuff; puke and poop.

As I hold my little girl in my arms, I rock her back and forth in the chair. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. She looks a lot like me with a full head of dark hair, my nose and distinct mouth, but it’s her big, round eyes that remind me of her mom. She woke up once Presley laid her in my arms and it gives me a chance to study them. Her eyes are dark brown, the color of chocolate, though they have faint specks of honey in them. I wonder if they’ll change colors. I hope not.

Mia starts to squirm, so I lift her up ever so carefully and lay her on my chest. As I rock back and forth, I lightly pat her back while humming “Sweet Child of Mine” by Guns & Roses. I know it’s far from a lullaby, but I can’t get the tune out of my head since Jake suggested Axl as a name. She soon settles into the warmth of my chest and falls asleep. Tired myself, I put my feet up in the ottoman and close my eyes, holding this precious life securely in my arms.

***

Presley and Mia will be released in an hour from the hospital. I can tell Presley is very nervous to leave, but I keep reassuring her everything will be fine. This is our new life together, and starting off, it will be hard, however in the long run, everything will be as it always should be. I am a little concerned with her mood ever since Mia was born. I have yet to see her smile a truly genuine smile; one that lights up her face and sends a sparkle to her eye.