by Marie Force
Thank God for modern medicine.
I’m so exhausted from the last few hours that I immediately crash into dream-riddled sleep, in which Patrick is there, whole and healthy and vibrantly alive even as I’m aware that he’s still dead.
The craziness continues when I come to, awakened by intense pressure between my legs and a flurry of activity happening around me.
I look up at Derek.
He holds my gaze. “You got this, Roni. You’re so strong. You’re almost there.”
Behind him, the sky is dark. Have we been here that long? “What time is it?”
“Just after midnight.”
Jesus. “Patrick’s birthday.”
Derek gasps. “Is it?”
Nodding, I grimace from the pressure as my legs are lifted and spread obscenely in front of a room full of people I’ve never met. That I don’t even care who’s seeing me spread wide open is an indication of my current state of mind. I have zero effs to give for anything other than getting this baby out right now.
Turns out, the first part was easy compared to pushing. Even with the epidural, I feel like I’m being split in half as the baby fights to make its way into the world. I push for two hours before I hear the doctor mention something about a cesarean.
“No, I don’t want that.” I double down on the pushing, giving it everything I’ve got until the baby finally arrives at four thirty-two.
“You have a son,” Dr. Gordon announces.
I can’t see through my tears. Everything hurts. But I have a son.
Patrick and I have a son.
“Is he…” I gaze up at Derek, feeling frantic. “Shouldn’t he be crying?”
“He’s doing great,” another doctor says from across the room, where she’s examining the baby. “Six pounds, two ounces, nineteen inches.” She brings him to me, wrapped in a receiving blanket with a little cap on his head. Dr. Gordon is still doing something between my legs, but I can’t be bothered with that when my son wants to meet me.
“He’s beautiful, Roni,” Derek says, subtly swiping at a tear of his own. “You were amazing.”
I can’t stop staring at the perfection that is my son’s face. “He’s so small. My God. No one tells you how small they’ll be!”
Derek laughs. “That won’t last for long, so enjoy it while you can.”
It takes about two full seconds for me to see that he looks exactly like his father, right down to the tiny dimples in his cheeks.
“What’s his name?” Derek asks.
“Dylan Patrick Connolly.” I decided on that name for a boy or a girl. “Named for Patrick and his favorite musician of all time.”
“I love that. Hi, Dylan. So nice to meet you.”
“Dylan, this is Derek. He’s been a very good friend to Mommy while she was expecting you, and I suspect he’s going to be a very good friend to you, too. And wait until you meet his sweet daughter, Maeve. She’s so excited to meet you.”
“I’m going to be there for you, Dylan.” Derek leans in to kiss the baby on the forehead. Then he kisses my cheek. “And your mom.”
21
Derek
I’m wrecked from the emotional overload of being with Roni while she gave birth to Dylan. She was a warrior, and I’m so proud of her and already in love with her little guy. He’s absolutely adorable. And that he was born on Patrick’s birthday… It’s all too much. I haven’t left her side in hours, except to pee twice. I’m hungry, tired and need a shower, but none of that matters.
What’s really odd is I feel exactly the same way I did when Maeve was born—elated, terrified, thrilled, madly in love and looking forward to everything with this new little boy.
I have no idea if I should allow myself to go there, but I’m already there without having given it much thought. Everything with Roni has been so organic from the beginning. We’ve fallen into this sweet friendship that could be so much more than that if we allowed it to be. I’m ready for that, but I’m on her timetable. I wish we’d gotten to have “the conversation” before Dylan arrived, but we’ll get there. I hope sooner rather than later, because I want to be part of their lives. I want Maeve and Dylan to grow up together. I want us to be a family, but only if that’s what Roni wants, too.
Roni is with the lactation nurse as she tries to figure out breastfeeding, which seems like a good time to take a break and get a coffee. I’d give anything for a toothbrush, but that’ll have to wait until the gift shop opens at nine.
I take a second in the cafeteria to send a text to Terry and Nick. Roni had her baby at 4:32 a.m.—a month early, a boy named Dylan Patrick who was born on his father’s birthday. Since we were together when shit got real, I ended up being her coach (most useless position in the game). I’m going to take a personal day tomorrow and maybe Tuesday, too. Not sure what she’s going to need. Anyway… That’s my situation.
I’m not surprised when Nick replies right away in a private message just to me. His insomnia is a thing of legend, never more so than since he suddenly became president last November. Congratulations to Roni on the arrival of Dylan. And on his dad’s bday. My heart.
I know. Mine, too. It’s amazing.
How are you?
I’m fine. She’s the one who did all the hard work.
But how are YOU?
Leave it to my old friend to home in on the question of the hour. I’m in this weird place of wishing I knew for sure I was going to get to raise this little guy as my son. Any other questions?
Well, there you have it. What do you think she’d say to that?
I think I know, but not for certain, which is making me crazy. We were going to talk last night, but Dylan had other plans for us.
For what it’s worth, I think it’s a big deal that she wanted you with her when she probably has a lot of other people she could’ve asked to be there.
I tend to agree, but I’m trying not to get ahead of myself.
Sam and I love you two together and hope something comes of it. You’ve been wise to take it slow and give her the space she needs for her grief.
I love the way this has happened with her, how we’ve kind of just eased into this super comfortable friendship that has so much potential. She’s incredible with Maeve, who absolutely adores her, and the best part is that there’s room for Vic and her husband, Patrick, in our relationship. We both get what the other has lost. It’s perfect in every way. I’m just not sure if it’s ever going to be more than what it is.
You need to be patient. It hasn’t even been a year since she lost him.
I know. Sigh. I’m all about the patience.
But you’re ready to move forward, too.
Yeah.
It’s going to matter to her that you gave her the space to come around to this in her own time, that you didn’t rush her or make her feel obligated. It will matter to her that you’ve been there for her through the roughest time in her life and that you’ll be there for her and Dylan. I have to believe all of that will add up to what you want it to be.
I really hope so. How much do you charge for middle-of-the-night counseling from POTUS?
Free for you, my great friend. I’m so, so happy to see you coming back from your own horrible loss. Sam said the same thing recently—how she feels like we’re getting Derek back lately.
That’s nice to hear. It’s been a journey for sure, and I tell myself that Roni has the right to travel her own path to get to a place where she’s ready for what’s next.
I’ve seen the two of you together. She’s on her way to you. She might not have arrived yet, but she’s coming.
You really think so?
Absolutely.
That makes me feel better. Thanks for the pep talk.
Keep doing what you’re doing. Sam will want to visit Roni later.
I’m sure she’d love that.
Hang in there, brother.
Will do. Thanks again, Nick. Really. This helped.
You got it.
As I tak
e the elevator back to the maternity floor, I think about what Nick said and summon the patience I need to see this through to the point where Roni is ready to talk about us and whether there’s going to be an us. If that’s not what she wants, I’m still prepared to continue a friendship that’s brought me comfort, solace, joy, laughter and so many other things, it would be impossible to name them all.
I love her.
I have for quite some time. I first suspected it way back in March, on a freezing cold Friday night when we watched Frozen with Maeve for the nine hundredth time. Roni sang along to the songs, which delighted Maeve. She loves her, too. She talks about Roni and the baby all the time. I’ve wondered whether it was wise to allow her to get so attached to Roni when I have no idea where this is headed.
I worry about Roni waking up from her grief to realize I’m not what she wants for the next part of her life. I’ll be completely crushed if that happens. I’ve allowed my mind to wander pretty far down the road to a life that includes her and Dylan. It’s nice to be able to assign a name to him beyond “the baby.”
Dylan.
His name is Dylan Patrick Connolly.
And I already love him with all my heart.
When I return to Roni’s room, she’s out cold, and Dylan is in the bassinette next to her, wide awake. Despite being swaddled, he’s moving around like he’s ready to try life on the outside. I debate for a second whether Roni would mind if I pick him up and decide of course she wouldn’t. After I put down my coffee, I lift him carefully from the bassinette and take him with me to the recliner chair in the corner.
“Hey, buddy, it’s me, Derek,” I whisper to him. “I’m your mommy’s friend, and we’ve been so looking forward to meeting you.” I adjust the knitted cap on his head back off his forehead.
He studies me carefully, even though I recall from when Maeve was born that newborns can’t see much at first. Dylan seems to be an exception. Wanting to test my theory, I raise my index finger over his face, and his eyes follow it from left to right. “You’re brilliant like your daddy was. I knew it.”
I rock him for a long time, and he stares at me almost without blinking.
“I’m not the guy who should be welcoming you to this world. I didn’t get a chance to meet your dad, but from what everyone tells me, he was a heck of a guy. He was smart and kind, and he loved your mom very much. Even though I didn’t get to meet him, you can take my word for it when I tell you he’d want to be here with you and your mom more than anywhere else. And you were born on his birthday, which is so cool. I don’t believe in coincidences, buddy. You came a month early because your daddy wanted you to have his birthday.”
He listens intently to me while continuing to squirm inside the confines of the blanket.
“But since he can’t be here, I want you to know that I am. I’m here, buddy, and I’m not going anywhere. Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you get it. No matter what. Okay? I’ll show you everything you need to know about being a guy, like how to throw the perfect curve ball and spiral and how to talk to girls—or boys—no judgment. I’ll show you how to drive and how to skateboard and anything else you want to do. We’ll do it all. I can’t wait for you to meet my Maeve. She already loves you so much. We both do.”
I decide to free him from the blanket because that seems to be what he wants. I hold out my hand to him, and he wraps a strong little hand around my index finger.
“It’s very nice to meet you, too, Dylan,” I say, my voice heavy with emotion.
* * *
Roni
I wake to the sound of Derek’s voice as he speaks softly to Dylan. His sweet words bring tears to my eyes. How can there be more tears? These tears, however, are tears of joy. I have a son, and I have Derek. And I have Maeve. As I listen to Derek pledge to be there for Dylan, to teach him guy things and tell him he already loves him, I can no longer deny I’m in love with Derek Kavanaugh.
My emotions are a series of soaring highs and crushing lows. Patrick should be the one holding his newborn son, but since that’s not possible, Derek is here. He’s been right here with me almost since the day we met, and despite the weirdness of our initial meetings, he’s been steadfast in his friendship and support ever since.
I want him in my life—and Dylan’s. I want to be in his life—and Maeve’s. This wasn’t the path I planned for myself, but it’s the one I’m on, and I’m so very thankful that he’s walking beside me.
“Hey,” I say when I’ve gotten myself as together as I’m going to get today.
“Mommy’s awake,” Derek tells Dylan. “You want to go see her?”
The baby’s arms and legs are in constant motion.
Derek stands and brings the baby to me. “I think he’s going to be a star soccer player. He never stops moving. He wanted out of the swaddle.”
As he passes the baby to me, Derek’s hand brushes against my arm, setting off a reaction that zings through my entire body. “I love that he’s already showing us his personality.”
“He’s so perfect and alert. I swear he can already see, even though they say that’s not possible.”
“Clearly, he’s brilliant like his daddy was.”
“I couldn’t agree more. Iris texted to check on you, so I shared the news with her. Hope that’s okay.”
“Of course it is.”
“She said she’ll tell the other Wild Widows and ask them to sit on the news until you get the chance to tell everyone.”
I need to tell my family and Patrick’s that Dylan has arrived, but for a little while longer, I want to share him only with Derek. I look up at him. “Thank you so much for being here with us.”
“I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else.”
He looks at me in a way that tells me his feelings are every bit as strong as mine are. There’s so much I want to say to him, but I’m so tired and drained that now isn’t the time.
“You should go home to Maeve.”
“She’s very happy with Grandma and Grandpa.”
“Are you sure? You must be so tired.”
“I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”
“We need to have that conversation…”
“We will. I promise. In the meantime, I’m not going anywhere. Unless you want me to.”
“No, don’t go.”
His sweet smile lights up tired eyes. He takes hold of my free hand and kisses the back of it. “Thanks for letting me be part of Dylan’s first day.”
“We’re very happy you’re here.” I move my tired, aching body over to the far side of the bed. “Come be with us.”
“Are you sure?” he asks.
“I’m very sure.”
* * *
We spend that entire night snuggled up in my hospital bed, marveling at the miracle that is Dylan, caring for him together like two first-time parents, except one of us is experienced. Derek changes his diaper like a champ and laughs when he gets peed on in the middle of the night. “I forgot that boys have skills that girls don’t,” he says, wiping pee from the side of his face.
“Oh my goodness, Dylan! Don’t pee on Derek!” I can’t stop laughing, even though it hurts to breathe, let alone laugh.
“Y’all are having way too much fun,” a new nurse says when she comes into the room to find us cracking up.
“The baby peed on Derek,” I tell her.
“All the new daddies with boys have to find that one out the hard way,” she says, chuckling. “You’d think they’d know what that thing is capable of at this point.”
Her comments set us off all over again, and I don’t worry about correcting her comment about Derek being a new daddy.
“As long as you can laugh, you’re going to slay this parenthood thing,” she adds after she checks my vitals. “Are you comfortable, honey?”
“Define ‘comfortable.’”
“You’re going to be sore for a few days, but you’ll bounce back quickly.” Lowering her voice, she adds, “And you’ve got a handsome man to
make it all better. You go, girl.”
It’s all so wonderful and awful at the same time. Where’s Patrick? He should be here. My heart soars with love for Dylan and Derek even as it breaks with sorrow for Patrick.
In the morning, I text my family and Patrick’s to share the big news and to marvel that Dylan was born on Patrick’s birthday. I include a photo of me holding Dylan that Derek took on my phone.
The responses are instantaneous.
Holy crap, Rebecca says. I missed it! I’m so sorry, Ronald!
He’s beautiful, Pen says. Congrats, Ron!
Welcome to the world, Dylan Patrick, my brother says. We can’t wait to meet you.
My parents reply with excitement and joy over their new grandson and ask if they can come see us.
I’m probably going home later today. I’ll let you know.
Do you need a ride? Dad asks.
Derek is here. I’ll let you know when we’re home.
Dad replies with a thumbs-up.
“Is it weird that no one from Patrick’s family has responded?” I ask Derek half an hour later.
“I’m sure they’re processing the news. It has to be bittersweet for them, like it is for you.”
“I guess.” While that may be true, I’m still disappointed not to hear back from them. “Do you think they’re mad that I texted rather than called?”
“Roni, you just had a baby. You don’t owe anyone anything more than you’ve already given them. Besides, wouldn’t they want to see a photo of the baby?”
“I suppose so.”
Though I’m determined to focus on Dylan and preparing to take him home, the silence from Patrick’s family casts a pall over the day. The same nurse we had yesterday is back to walk me through the basics of bathing the baby and tending to his umbilical cord. My milk has come in with a vengeance, and thankfully, Dylan is breastfeeding like a champ. While I practice bathing and feeding, Derek runs to my place to get the infant car seat I bought in anticipation of this day.