by Lexie Ray
The butler, Miles, was always kind to us, holding open the door and offering us his hand whenever we got in or out of the car.
Still, no amount of doctor appointments or unsolicited advice from Gran or absence from Ben prepared me for the first life changing, wrenching cramp of my first contraction, in the dead of night. I knew exactly what was happening even if I’d never felt it before.
I was going into labor. I was going to have this baby.
As soon as I entered my eighth month of pregnancy, Miles had been on call to drop whatever he was doing as soon as he got a call from a cell phone the Paxton’s had given us specifically so that we could contact them. I called Miles before I even told Gran what was happening.
“Yes, Miss Shimmy?” he answered.
“I’m in labor,” I said breathlessly.
“I’ll be right there,” he said briskly.
“Miles?”
“Yes, Miss Shimmy?”
“Will you please let Ben know what’s going on?” I asked, halfway hoping that Ben would be in the car when Miles rolled up in front of our building.
There was a moment’s hesitation. “I’ll tell him,” Miles said. “Be ready.”
“Thanks,” I said, ending the call and grabbing a plastic bag. I shoved a change of clothes for both Gran and me then made sure I had all my forms of identification in my purse.
“Gran?” I called. “Gran? Baby’s coming.”
She was in bed, fast asleep, and I was almost sorry to wake her up. She looked so tired, but I found that I needed her. I was too scared to do this alone.
“All right, Shonda,” Gran said sleepily, climbing from bed and slipping a dress on over her slip. “Everything’s gonna be all right.”
I grimaced and sat heavily on the bed, riding out another contraction, squeezing the plastic bag of our clothing until it passed.
“Miles is on his way,” I said. “Let’s go on outside.”
The car was waiting for us at the curb, Miles at the ready to help us both into the backseat. I was disappointed, though not surprised, when Ben was nowhere to be seen.
“Did you tell Ben?” I asked, panting as another contraction tore through my body.
“I told him,” Miles said, pulling into the street and stepping on the gas pedal. The car raced forward, the engine purring. “I think he and his parents are riding to the hospital together. They’ll meet us there.”
“Oh,” I said, wondering if the clenching of my heart had anything to do with my contractions. I wished that Ben had gone with me instead. Him going with his parents was like picking sides. Had Ben given up on the idea of us?
We were admitted with lightning speed once we arrived at the hospital, which probably had something to do with how much the Paxton’s were paying the doctors.
But when I was snugly in bed, hooked up to all manners of wires and devices and in a hospital gown, it still didn’t feel real.
“Is this really happening?” I asked Gran, reaching for her hand. She gave me a squeeze.
“We’re here aren’t we?” she asked.
“What’s it going to be like?” I wondered, gritting my teeth through another contraction.
“It’s different for everyone,” Gran said. “You’re just going to have to be brave.”
I could’ve been, maybe, if Ben was by my side. But it was just Gran and me. I was going to have to try hard to keep it together. Ben probably wasn’t an option anymore. He was out of the picture, pushed out by his parents.
One of the many doctors and nurses around me added something to my IV, and my reality shifted a little bit. I could still feel the contractions, but it was almost as if they were happening to someone else. I was glad they weren’t happening to me, because it sounded like they hurt. Gran was there, but she was even farther away, urging on someone I couldn’t see.
Finally, there was an enormous effort, a thin cry, and with a rush, I was back inside myself, a new mother.
They put my wailing son in my arms, and even with the bits of sticky grime and gore on his face, he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen. He slit his eyes open and looked at me and knew me—knew that he was mine and I was his. It was a magical moment, especially when he locked onto me for the first time and drank what my body had made for him. I was a mother, and I’d never let anything bad happen to my baby. My little treasure. No diamond or pearl was more precious than the baby I held in my arms.
“What are you going to call him?” Gran asked, crying and smiling all at the same time.
“I was thinking about Trevor,” I said, tired but buoyed by elation. I was a mother. This was my baby.
“That’s a good name, child,” Gran said. “A good name, Shonda.”
There was a light commotion at the door before Mr. and Mrs. Paxton came in.
“Congratulations are in order, I see,” Mr. Paxton said, the cheer in his voice nowhere near genuine. It made me shudder.
“It’s a boy,” Gran said, beaming. “His name is Trevor.”
Ben’s parents looked at each other.
“That’s not what we had in mind,” Mrs. Paxton said.
“Well, that’s what this child’s mother did,” Gran said, putting her hands on her hips stubbornly. “You’re just going to have to deal with that.”
“Where’s Ben?” I asked, clutching Trevor to my breast. “Where’s this child’s father?”
“He’s away right now,” Mr. Paxton said. “We thought it’d be best if he not worry about this thing right now.”
“You sent him off when his baby was getting ready to be born?” I asked incredulously. “What kind of monsters are you?”
Mrs. Paxton’s mouth twisted and I realized exactly what kind of monsters they were when there was no one to keep her from saying exactly what she wanted to.
“We’re simply protecting our son from a low-class little slut using a baby to claw her way into wealth,” she said.
Gran gaped for all of five seconds before slapping Mrs. Paxton right in her poisonous face. It was all I could do to watch, aghast.
“You will use respect when you talk about my granddaughter,” Gran said. “Your son saw fit to be with her. She is a good girl.”
Mr. Paxton grabbed his wife before she could retaliate against Gran, which was good. If that woman tried anything with Gran, I’d be up and out of this bed, baby in my arms or not.
“Can we see our grandson?” Mr. Paxton asked. “Please.”
“You can see him just fine from where you are,” I said coldly. “Now, please leave. I’m going to raise this baby the right way and better than you folks ever could.”
“You heard my granddaughter,” Gran said. “Now leave, before we call security.”
The atmosphere in the room brightened as soon as the Paxton’s left, making all of us relax. Trevor nursed easier, and the medical personnel on hand started chatting again.
“In laws,” Gran announced grimly, drawing some titters from the doctors.
We’d been through a lot already, I realized as I gazed down at my baby. And we still had a long way to go in order to be all right. But there was nothing in this world I wouldn’t do for the bundle I was holding. I’d do anything for this baby, my little treasure. My Trevor.
Chapter Three
I was able to pick up my breakfast shift again at the restaurant I’d been working at while in school. Gran watched Trevor while I was gone, which was invaluable. I looked at some day care services around the area to see if I could give Gran a break, but they were exorbitant. I’d never be able to afford sending Trevor there, even if I devoted my entire paycheck to it.
I even got lucky and was eventually hired back at the mall. It was hard to be away from my baby all day, but I knew he was in Gran’s capable hands. Since she was too old and ill to work, I had to be the one to earn the money we needed to survive.
I pumped my breasts and made sure that Gran always had enough milk on hand for Trevor. He had a thriving appetite and grew quickly, which we both
liked to see. Nothing made me happier than my little treasure.
Still, I stupidly clung to the idea that Ben would come back to me, sweep me off my feet and promise to be the father I knew he could be. I’d seen Ben be great in the face of adversity. I only wished he would snap out of whatever spell his parents had him under and come see us. I stared for hours at the cell phone the Paxton’s had given us, wondering if he might figure out the number to call and get back in touch with me.
Weeks turned into months, and I lost hope of that happening. Besides, there was too much to occupy myself with.
I had to budget each paycheck carefully, measuring it against Gran’s pension to ensure we had enough money for all of the necessary supplies and appointments.
There had been no more contact with the Paxton’s since we’d banished them from the hospital room, which was a double-edged sword. We were free to raise Trevor however we liked, and free from their judgment, but they’d also withdrawn all assistance. I had follow-up doctor’s appointments that our insurance wouldn’t cover since the doctors weren’t in our plan, and Trevor had appointments, too. I made sure that he always had enough to eat, but I skipped meals in order to stretch our budget so that the baby and Gran could eat.
It wasn’t too long after that that my milk dried up, and we had to add formula to the expenses.
The restaurant was understanding and extended my hours so that I could earn a little more, but we were barely staying afloat.
Then, Gran got very sick and everything went to hell.
I found her when I got home from the mall, sprawled out on the floor in the living room and Trevor wailing in his highchair. I felt incredibly guilty—how long had they been like this? But the mashed food on Trevor’s plastic plate was still warm, so it couldn’t have been that long.
“Gran?” I said, leaning down and putting my hands over her back. “Gran? You all right?”
She groaned and I knew she wasn’t. I also knew that I wasn’t going to be able to get her downstairs and to a taxi by myself—not with the baby. I couldn’t leave him alone.
The ambulance ride would ruin us. I hated myself for thinking about it in those terms, but it was true. It might get Gran to help now, but a month from now, when the bill would come through, we wouldn’t be able to pay it. Something would have to suffer for us to be able to pay it—rent, maybe, or electricity—and once you got behind on that you’d spend the rest of your life playing catch-up.
So it really was my last possible option when I picked up that cell phone and dialed Miles.
“Miss Shimmy?” he said, his voice pleasant. “What a surprise. I hope you’re doing well.”
“I need your help, Miles,” I said, my voice quickly rising in panic.
“Where are you and what do you need?”
“I’m at my Gran’s apartment,” I said. “She’s collapsed. I need you to come and help me get her down to your car so we can take her to the hospital.”
“Wouldn’t an ambulance be better?” he asked, his voice worried.
“We can’t afford it,” I said. “Please. You’re our only hope. I can’t do it alone, not with the baby.”
“I’ll be right there.”
I got Trevor cleaned up and into a warm outfit, then tried to raise Gran.
“Gran,” I said, rubbing her back and wondering if it was safe to turn her over. “Gran. Miles is coming with the car to take you to the hospital. Everything’s going to be just fine.”
She groaned again, and I rolled her over. She’d broken her glasses in her tumble, so I removed each half and set them on the little coffee table. Maybe I’d be able to tape them for her. Maybe we wouldn’t have to get her new ones.
The door buzzed and I slapped the button to admit Miles.
“Help is coming, Gran,” I said, trying to keep the desperation from my voice. Trevor always seemed to pick up on my distress, and it made him a grumpy baby. I had to stay positive for him.
After a knock on the door, I pulled it open to admit Miles.
“Thank you so much for coming,” I gushed, following him inside. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know who else to call.”
“You called the right person,” he said. “Don’t worry. We’ll get your Gran to the hospital.”
Miles bent down and easily scooped Gran up into his arms as if she were a small child. She’d always had such a big presence that I’d never really realized how petite she was.
“Are you coming?” Miles asked over his shoulder as he carried Gran out the door.
“Of course,” I said, grabbing Trevor and my purse before locking the apartment door behind us.
The car ride was quick, and there were orderlies to help us once we pulled into the emergency entrance.
“Go with her,” Miles said. “I’ll park the car and meet you inside.”
I followed Gran’s gurney into the intensive care unit. Doctors worked around us, checking Gran’s pulse and breathing.
“Ma’am, you need to take your baby and go to the waiting room,” a nurse said.
“This is my Gran,” I said brokenly, watching the doctor’s work on her. “She raised me. She was a mother to me.”
“We’ll let you know if there are any changes,” the nurse promised, escorting me out.
Trevor started to whimper and I shored up my emotions, determined not to let them affect by baby.
“Everything’s going to be all right, treasure,” I assured him, bouncing him on my hip. “My little treasure. Trevor, my treasure.”
My stream of nonsense soothed us both, and Trevor nuzzled at my shoulder. He was such a sweet baby.
Somebody behind me coughed and I turned around, afraid I was blocking the view of the television or something.
It was Mr. and Mrs. Paxton.
“What are you all doing here?” I asked, my arms involuntarily tightening around Trevor.
“You called our butler,” Mr. Paxton pointed out. “We could ask you the same thing.”
“Is the baby all right?” Mrs. Paxton demanded.
“The baby is doing just fine,” I said, cradling him. “It’s—it’s Gran. That’s why I called Miles. I didn’t—we didn’t—have any other option.”
“Now are you starting to understand?” Mr. Paxton asked. “You can’t raise a baby like this. It’s only a matter of time before something else goes wrong. What would you have done if you didn’t have that cell phone, that life line to grab?”
“I would’ve called for an ambulance,” I said.
Mr. Paxton shook his head at me. “If you could’ve called an ambulance, you would have,” he said. “You said that this was your only option.”
“If we were raising that child, there wouldn’t be any desperate options,” Mrs. Paxton said. “Admit it. We have resources that you could never even dream of having.”
The woman was almost right, but she was forgetting about one important thing.
“You can’t buy love, Mrs. Paxton,” I said. “And babies need love above all things.”
“You’d be surprised,” she said, her fangs out.
The nurse from the intensive care unit reappeared with a doctor.
“Shonda Crosby?”
“Yes, that’s me,” I said, walking quickly over. “My Gran—how is she?”
The doctor’s eyes told me all I needed to know, and I pressed my fist to my mouth to keep from weeping in front of my baby.
“It was a massive stroke,” he explained as I rocked both Trevor and myself. “The bleeding on her brain was just too much. Even though you got her to the hospital fast, it wasn’t fast enough to do anything. I’m sorry. She’s dead.”
The only thing keeping me together was the child I held. I had to be strong for him. I could never stop being strong for him.
“What do I do now?” I asked, the question loaded with implications. What did I do with Gran’s body? How did I pay for arrangements? Who would watch Trevor for me while I worked? How would I possibly earn enough money to pay for rent and food?
“A representative of a funeral home stipulated in your grandmother’s will is on his way,” the doctor said. “You’ll speak with him about the arrangements.”
I didn’t think I could do this, but I had to. There just wasn’t any other choice.
“Thank you,” I said. “I’ll wait for him here.”
I was surprised to see the Paxton’s still there when I turned around.
“We’re sorry for your loss,” Mr. Paxton said.
“A tragedy, truly,” Mrs. Paxton said.
All of their good breeding couldn’t make lies ring true. They didn’t give a damn that Gran had just died.
“Thank you,” I said again. “Now please go.”
“Your grandmother was helping you with that baby,” Mrs. Paxton said. “Think, girl. What are you going to do now?”
“I’ll find a way,” I said stubbornly. “It’ll be just fine.”
“And what happens the next time you don’t have any options?” Mr. Paxton demanded. “What are you going to let slip that your child could benefit from? Healthy food? A safe place to live? Constant supervision?”
“I can do it,” I said.
Mrs. Paxton clucked at me. “We’ll see,” she said. “Well. You know how to get a hold of us. And we’ll be waiting. It’s only a matter of time before you realize that you aren’t fit to be a mother.”
That raised my hackles and I would’ve beaned that evil woman right in the middle of the forehead with her stupid cell phone except that I was holding my son. He didn’t need to see me at my worst.
“Goodbye,” I said instead, turning my back to them.
I had Gran cremated and spread her ashes down by the water’s edge. She’d always loved the beach, even if we didn’t go there very often. She’d talk about her childhood, and walking with her various beaus over the sand.
I hoped it put her at peace to have her resting place there.
I lost my job at the restaurant after I didn’t show up following Gran’s death. They’d already been so accommodating that my “latest crisis” just sounded like an excuse. It was just as well, I supposed. I didn’t have any way for Trevor to be looked after anyways.