Forgiven (This)

by J. B. McGee

  When we reach the NICU, we press the button to go inside. The nurse comes over the intercom speaker. “Only parents are allowed in the NICU. Mr. Banks, we can let you back in.” Earlier they assumed I was the father. They gave me a bracelet like they give the dads. The nurses were all being so kind. I was too distraught to correct them that I have no clue if this is my child. It didn’t seem like an appropriate time. “I’m afraid the others will have to wait in the waiting room.”

  I swallow. I have been dreading having to say this out loud because it’s beyond embarrassing. I feel like I’m on a reality television show where they say, “And the father is...”. I press the button on the intercom and begin my confession. “I understand. We’ve not been able to have a paternity test, but there is a good chance that this guy...” I look over my shoulder and point my thumb in Ian’s direction. “Is the father. So it would be great if he could see her.”

  “Oh,” she murmurs. Yeah. I fully expected that reaction. “Well often times we can cross check blood types, which is a lot faster than a paternity test. Someone will be with you in a moment.”

  I don’t know why I hadn’t even thought of finding out her blood type. I cock my head at Gabby and I slightly smile. That is the best news of my day by far. The not knowing is killing me. I am to the point now to where I can accept whatever this answer may be, but I can’t accept no longer knowing. Gabby smiles back to me, but then she lets her body fall into the wall and she glances away. She’s clearly still not happy with me and aside from this situation, I am still seething mad at her right now. We definitely have unfinished business to take care of later.

  An older, heavier set nurse that I met earlier comes through the double, electronic doors. She’s holding a chart. I assume it’s Faith’s. She motions forward and walks through the opening between me and Ian. She ushers us to one of those consultation rooms. “Have a seat and make yourselves comfortable.”

  We all sit. I can’t really remember the last time I sat down. The fatigue hits me once I do. I could fall asleep in this chair right now. It’s all I can do to keep my eyes open. I need coffee.

  She opens the chart. “Now I know your name.” She looks at me and then back to Ian. “But we haven’t met. You are?” She extends her hand.

  “My name’s Ian.” He gives her a small shake.

  “Barb. Nice to meet you.” I couldn’t remember her name, but now it comes flooding back to me. I do remember her telling me her name was Barb and she was some head honcho nurse. Maybe a charge nurse. I don’t know. Who cares, anyway?

  “Do you know your blood types?”

  “I’m O positive,” I quickly answer.

  Ian responds, “A positive, and since I know you can’t tell us Veronica’s because of HIPPA, I know that she’s O positive, too.”

  Confused, I look to him. “How the hell do you know her blood type?”

  He rolls his eyes. I hate this punk. I absolutely hate him. I just want to slap the living shit out of him. “I just know, okay.”

  “Guys. None of that is important.” She looks to Ian. “You’re right. I can’t tell you her blood type. I can tell you the blood type of the baby, then you can confirm Ms. Johnson’s blood type with her. Once you know what it is, then you should have a clear answer as to paternity.”

  I nod my head and narrow my eyes at him. The sooner I can get away from him the better. She closes the chart and then as soon as she speaks, we have our answer.

  “Her blood type is A positive,” Barb says confidently. That means if the douche is right, then I was right. Faith isn’t mine. Gabby breathes a sigh of relief. I don’t know why I can’t seem to breathe yet. “Why don’t you all take a moment to let this information sink in and then confirm with Ms. Johnson. Then just come back to the NICU to see the baby.”

  I look to Gabby. “Can you do me a huge favor?”

  She nods.

  “I could really use some coffee. I’m drained.”

  “Okay.” Finally I think she has concern for me on her face. “Have you eaten anything?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  “Okay. I’ll get you something to eat then, too.”

  “That would be great.” I glance back to Ian. “You need to come with me. We need to get this sorted out.”

  “There’s nothing to sort out. I knew the baby was mine. I tried to tell her.” He looks away and then hisses back, “But she was so sure you’d be a better father.”

  I squint my eyes at him, the situation is escalating. I can see Gabby tense up. “Guys. Let’s not have a repeat of the night at my apartment here.”

  “Give me some credit for self-control. I know that now isn’t the time or place to kick his ass.”

  “Fine. I’m going to go get your food and coffee, then.” She gets up and storms out of the door. Her attitude is the last thing I need right now.

  “You’ll understand if I want to confirm the blood type with Veronica.”

  “Do what you need to do, then you can leave.”

  “You son of a bitch.” I get up and push the door open, catching it before it can hit the wall. I take several cleansing breaths. How dare he tell me then I can leave? I realize he may not have known she was here, but I’ve been the one here every single day. I’ve been the one on the damn emotional roller coaster. I’ve been the one here all day watching this play out. I’m the one who’s had his heart ripped out and served on a platter. Then Faith comes to my mind. The thought of potentially never seeing her again. The thought of them naming her something other than Faith. I can’t contain the emotion. I choke back tears. I can’t believe I care this much.

  I knock quickly on the door, but don’t allow time for her to answer, but she does. “Come --”

  “Hey. How are you feelin’?

  “Groggy and really sore.” She tries to prop herself up on the bed. Ian is just now getting to the room because I was walking so much faster than he was. I needed all the distance I could get from him. She looks over to him. “What’s he doing here?”

  “I told him to come.”

  “That wasn’t your decision.”

  “It was my decision. It’s done now, anyway.” Damn, who cares why I called him. I can’t believe she’s not even asked me about the baby. “Don’t you even want to know how the baby is?”

  Tears spring into her eyes. “I already know about the baby. The doctor has come in and told me things aren’t looking good. How dare you act like I don’t care, though!”

  I shove my clenched fists into my pockets and bite my tongue. I look out of the window. “We need to know your blood type.”

  “Why? Does she need a transfusion or something?”

  I glance back to her. “No, Faith’s fine.”

  “Faith?”

  “Yeah, I call her Faith. I named her in my mind when she was being born. I knew faith would be what carried her and made her okay. That we’d need faith to get through this ordeal.” My eyes wander to Ian. He cocks his head to the side, as if to say how dare you name a child that’s not even yours. “She needed a name.”

  Veronica reaches out and touches my arm. “Hey. I like it.” I glance back to her and she looks to Ian. “I like Faith, do you?”

  “I like the name Faith, but I am not letting him name my child, though. So we’ll need to discuss names later.”

  I press my lips together because I am on the verge of losing it with him. “What’s your blood type, Veronica?”

  “O positive,” she whispers. “You never told me why you wanted to know.”

  I throw my arms up in the air. “I still want to know how you know her blood type, but that’s beside the point.”

  Veronica’s head whips to Ian. “You know my blood type?”

  “Yeah, we can discuss that after Bradley leaves. He has no place here. I told you all along that the baby was mine. I don’t know why you insisted on bringing him into this.”

  I swallow and back up towards the door. “I’m glad it’s all over. I wish you the best of l
uck. Please keep me posted on Faith...or whatever you decide to name her.”

  “Bradley, please don’t go. Not like this.”

  “No, I need some space. I can’t get any more attached to her than I already am. Really, I wish you all the best. Like Ian said, I have no place here.”

  I hear the door open and turn to look over my shoulder, and Gabby is holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a small, white bag in the other. “Let’s go.”

  Veronica pleads, but her voice gets quieter and quieter as I zone out. I turn on my heel and leave her room. The double doors to the NICU are on my way out, and the realization that I may never see Faith again is almost more than I can take. She might as well already be dead to me. I can’t believe how a child can already have me wrapped around its tiny, micro pinky finger, but she does. I’ve been rooting for her, praying for her.

  Gabby is by my side, but she’s yet to say a word. I know she’s probably struggling to keep up with my long strides, but I can’t slow down. I have to get out of this place. I feel my breath leaving my body. I feel like I’m drowning. I need air.

  When we get through the double doors, it’s as if I’ve run a marathon. I’m panting and out of breath. I hunch over and rest my palms on my knees. I hear the bag crumple and then Gabby’s hand is on my back. “Is there anything I can do?” she asks.

  Well she could start by explaining why out of all people she called Ian, but now’s not the time or place for that. I straighten my body and take the coffee. I don’t even care if it has the right amount of stuff in it. I’ll drink anything right now, no matter how disgusting. I take a sip and it’s so hot it burns my tongue.

  I hand the valet my parking stub. It feels like it’s been days since I got here, but it’s really just been hours. When he pulls up, I open the door for Gabby and then let myself in. I just start driving, not saying a word. I open the bag and scarf down the sandwich she bought me. I don’t even know if I have time to taste it I eat it so quickly. I ball the white wax paper up and toss it into the bag.

  Gabby asks. “Where are we going?”

  “To buy you a new car.”

  She whips her head around. “What?”

  “You heard me,” I deadpan. “Your car apparently isn’t reliable, so I’m getting you one that is.” Ultimately, this is let me make sure you have reliable transportation so you don’t ever have to call that jackass again.

  “I have a car. It just needs to be fixed. What happened to boyfriends fix girlfriend’s cars?” Her tone is rising in anger.

  We arrive to the motor mile of car dealerships. I slow down and point. “We have Toyota, Nissan, Honda, or Volvo. Pick one.”

  “I don’t want a new car.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “Not like this. Not today.”

  “Pick one, or I’ll pick for you.”

  “You’re being an ass. No,” she huffs.

  “You wanna talk about asses?” I pull the car into the gas station beside the Honda dealership. “Let’s talk about asses.” I throw it into park. “You go to a coffee shop I beg you not to go to. Your car breaks down, and of all the people you think to call, you think to call Ian. You didn’t even try my mom or my sister. And the damn creeper is your father. So I think I might’ve been even more okay with him driving you somewhere than Ian, but who the fuck knows. Yeah, I’m the ass!”

  “Wait. What did you just say?”

  I am panting. I am out of control. I already regret speaking to her like that. I shake my head. This is why I work out. Because when I get like this I have to have an outlet to channel my temper. “Which part?”

  “Father.”

  “Oh shit.” I reach over for her hand, but she snatches it away. “Gabby, please.”

  She starts to cry. “How do you know my father?”

  This is going to sound so much worse than it really is. No, it’s really bad. There’s no way to make it seem any better. “I went to Gi Gi’s one day. I saw him looking at you funny.”

  “What you were spying on me or something?”

  I put my head down. “I just couldn’t figure out why you’ve been acting so strange...I was afraid I was going to lose you because of Veronica.”

  “So you spy on me?” she asks incredulously.

  “It was wrong, but you clearly had no clue that you were being stared at like that. So the next day I went back and found out who he was so I could run background checks on him.”

  Gabby looks away and moves her body closer to the door. She pulls her legs up and hugs them and starts rocking back and forth.

  “When he said his last name I realized why he had looked so familiar to me. I called Joe and had him do some background on him. He seems like a decent guy now.”

  Tears stream down her face, and she hasn’t said a word to me. I can’t stand this. Today of all days. How did I get myself into this mess? Why couldn’t I have just gone home? I was trying to regain control and power in a hopeless situation and all I’ve done is made it even worse.

  “I called Sam. I wanted to tell you, but I had no idea how to. I can’t stand keeping secrets. I was going to tell you. I swear I was.” I want to touch her so bad, but I know I can’t. That’s just going to make it even worse. She can’t be any farther away from me and still be in the car. And emotionally, I think she’s equally as distant, if not more. I just wish she’d talk to me. So I keep on rambling because the silence is cutting through me like a knife.

  “I was calling Sam because I needed to give her a heads up that I couldn’t keep secrets from you when they called and told me about the baby. Gabby. I wasn’t ignoring you. God, you have to believe me. I was about to walk into the OR when you called and I had to turn the phone off. Please understand that I didn’t choose her.” My voice cracks. “I chose Faith. Because I wouldn’t have been able to live with myself if she had been my child and I had missed her birth. She’s an innocent soul in all of this.”

  “Like you were. Whatever your father did to you, you deserved better.” She continues to rock, so I plead, “Please, baby. Please talk to me.” Tears are streaming down her face, and it’s ripping my heart to shreds. Sam was right. This may very well destroy her. And it’s all my fault.

  It didn’t take me long to realize I couldn’t buy her a car tonight. I should have never deviated away from my original plans to do it for her birthday. Now I have a mess. The stress of the day finally made me snap, and I have a non-verbal Gabby. She came into the apartment and went straight to bed. She never looked at me. Instead her head was hung low, her shoulders were hunched over, and she looked ragged and torn. She never spoke to me.

  If I thought the turmoil that I was experiencing earlier was bad, I had no idea. Gabby is my life, my future. I’ve hurt her, and this time it’s not some miscommunication or plot to come between us. This time, I did it all by myself. I wish I could take it all back. I wish I would have just brought her straight home and heard her out before I made even more assumptions about her and Ian. That ultimately is what got me into this mess. My insecurity over that situation.

  I toss the keys across the counter and close the door behind me. I have to call Sam, but I hate to do it in front of her, but I can’t keep anymore secrets. I can’t hide the truth from her. I refuse to participate in that kind of behavior any longer. I dial Sam’s number and it goes to voicemail. I’m not surprised. She’s barely available these days because she’s so busy with school. When the greeting is over I spill the beans. “Sam, it’s Bradley. She knows. Gabby knows about your father. She’s not talking, and she’s a mess. I need your help.” I look to the ceiling and take a deep breath. I always seem to need Sam’s help. “Call me, please.”

  I sense movement over my shoulder and she’s standing in the doorway. Her tear streaked face is dewy, and her eyes are red from crying. I take a step toward her, thankful she’s looking at me. When I do, she shakes her head and backs up. I stop and drop my head. I can’t stand this. I just want to go shake some sense into her, but I’ve done enough to her tonight
.

  I walk into the bedroom. She’s climbing into bed and turns her back to me and snuggles into the covers. I just want to scoop her up and make it all okay, but I don’t feel confident in my ability to make anything in this world okay at the moment. “Gabby, I’m sorry. I don’t want to go to bed with you upset with me, but I know you need space.” She doesn’t move. I point to the living room. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.” Instinctively, I lean over to kiss her head and I just can’t. I can’t touch her. I don’t feel like she’s mine to touch right now. I pick up the pillow and walk to the door. I glance back to her. When I do, she closes her eyes. “Goodnight Gabby Girl. Love you.”

  I toss the pillow onto the sofa, pulling the quilt that is folded over the back down. I take off my shirt and let my pants pool on the floor and fall back onto the couch. I try to sleep, but that is impossible. The day’s events play on repeat in my mind. I go through every decision I made over and over again reflecting on what I could have done differently to have avoided this situation. In reflecting on my actions, it hurts to know that the only thing I would change is my loss of control. It won’t happen again. With that realization and resolve, I am finally able to relax and I feel my eyes getting heavier. I roll over and wrap my arms around a pillow, pretending it’s Gabby.

  I’m woken by the doorbell. I rub my eyes, stretch, glancing over at the clock on the microwave. It’s light outside already, and I can’t believe I slept so soundly. It’s nine o’clock. I assume Gabby’s still asleep. I pull a T-shirt over my head and walk towards the door, trying to remember what day of the week it is, which doesn’t take long. It’s Friday. Gabby usually wakes me up in the mornings. I am running late.

  When I open the door, I’m surprised to see Sam. “What are you doing here?”