BABY ROYAL

by Bella Grant

  She cowered like she was shielding a blow. “Don’t you mean our house?”

  “No! I mean my house. The house that has my name on the deed. The house where Anna and I will start our family. My house, Mom!”

  “Humph!” she huffed and folded her arms across her chest. “What family?” She turned her nose up at Anna. “If she can have children, don’t consider me the grandmother.”

  That hurt even me, though I didn’t expect much better from her. I saw the tears as they came to Anna’s eyes, but they didn’t move my mother.

  “Anna, go back inside the room,” I said softly, the only effort I could make at that point to shield her from any more of my mother’s unkind words.

  “No!” she answered firmly. She stared at my mother, the tears streaming down her face. “Does it make you feel good to put people down? Do you think money gives you the right to treat people badly? As a matter of fact”—she sniffed, and wiped her hand under her nose— “Raymond has money, and you could barely find it in you to treat him like a son. What reason would I have to believe you would accept me?” She walked closer to my mother, so close their noses almost rubbed. “We will have children, and I have no problem shielding them from your cruelty. You deserve to grow old and lonely.”

  I could not have said it any better. I felt proud of Anna for defending herself so valiantly. She turned to walk past my mother when she grabbed her by the arm.

  “Let me go!” Anna cried, and yanked her arm back. Her hand twisted, and she staggered and bounced into the wall. Her head bumped against the hard surface as she lost her balance. Her arms flailed as she clawed at thin air before she crashed to the floor. I watched her fall like it was a slow-motion video, watched as her body bounced on the floor like a rubber doll.

  “Anna!” I shouted and rushed to her. Marian did the same, but my mother stayed still.

  Anna’s eyes popped open and so did her mouth, but no sound came out. She remained in the same position she had fallen, like she had been frozen to the spot.

  “What is it?” I asked frantically.

  Her hand moved to her stomach and her eyes searched for her mother. I looked for Marian too, because I had no idea what to think or do. I slipped my hand under the small of her back and tried to lift her. Her cries ripped through the air and I set her back down. Moving her seemed to cause her more pain, and I panicked.

  “Mom, it hurts,” she sobbed and gripped her mother’s hands until her knuckles turned white.

  Marian looked at me as I knelt on the floor, feeling useless. “We need to get her to the hospital.”

  “Oh, she’s merely faking,” my mother hissed and waved her off as she prepared to leave.

  “We need to go now or she might lose the baby,” Marian said.

  My mother stopped but didn’t turn. I knew it would hurt, but I slipped my hands under her legs as Marian laid her hand on her shoulder and hoisted her into my arms, trying to minimize the pain she felt.

  “She’s—” my mother began, but no one was interested in what she thought or felt. Anna was hurt and in pain, and she was to blame. I didn’t want to see her.

  “Let’s go,” I told Marian as we rushed her to the car, the only thing on my mind the woman I loved and the baby she carried for us.

  “I didn’t know!” my mother called after us.

  I didn’t care. I only hoped she would be gone by the time I got back.

  Anna

  Everything was black. I didn’t know where I was. There was a strange beeping sound and a constant dripping. My body felt limp, heavy, and dead. I couldn’t move, even though I tried to shift. I felt a slight chill and heard the faint sound of a door opening, then a gentle click that told me it closed automatically after. There were no doors like that at the house. So, where was I? I heard footsteps in the dark and felt someone breathing against my skin. Cold fingers touched me, and the beeping sound increased.

  The coldness left and the door opened again. And then again.

  “Mrs. Jameson?” An unfamiliar voice drifted into my consciousness and firm hands gripped my hand. “If you can hear me, squeeze my hand.” It took a lot of effort, but I was finally able to. “She is waking up,” the voice said.

  “Anna? It’s Raymond,” he whispered. “I’m right here.”

  I fluttered my eyelids, which felt so heavy I wondered if I had been drugged. Everything was hazy at first, and then I saw a white sheet over me. I turned to my right, where I found his relieved face staring back at me. I tried to speak, but a cough came out instead.

  “No, it’s okay, don’t speak,” he encouraged. “Get some rest.”

  I was insistent. I had to know what was going on. “No.” I remembered. I was home. There was a fight. His mother. Oh, his mother! Then I fell and the pain… I looked around and saw the machine that beeped and realized I was in the hospital, and my first thought was of the baby. I pressed my palm against my stomach and gazed up at Raymond through frightened eyes.

  “No, no, the baby’s okay,” he reassured me.

  I released my breath I didn’t notice I was holding. “Oh, that’s a relief. I don’t know what I’d do if…”

  He smiled and touched my hand. “Sshh. You’re all right now. No need to worry about that.”

  My eyes burned instantly from imminent tears, and I covered my mouth as I tried to rein in my emotions. It was like knowing something and being surprised by it all at the same time. I was going to be a mother, and I had no idea how to do it. By all indications, Raymond didn’t know what a good mother was like either. We had been pressed together and thrown into the briny blue without a paddle. We had to sink or swim. My anxiety would not let me relax so easily.

  “What?” he pressed my hand and asked, apparently having noticed my distress.

  “I don’t know how to be a mother,” I admitted to him, my eyes averted.

  “Don’t be silly. I’ve seen you with Teresa, and based on what I’ve seen with Marian, you’ll do just fine. Besides, you won’t be alone,” he added, and leaned over to kiss me on my forehead.

  “But…”

  “Shh!” He stopped me abruptly. “Don’t think about that now. Get some rest. Listen, the doctor wants to run some tests, just to be safe.”

  I had barely noticed her. She had red curly hair caught in a pin at the back of her head. A few tresses escaped and lay against her temple next to dark eyes that seemed warm despite the ominous look.

  She smiled at me as the evidence of her awkwardness at watching Raymond fawn over me wore off. “Hi, Mrs. Jameson. I’m Doctor Redding. How are you feeling?”

  “Ugh,” I groaned. “Like I was run over by a train.”

  They both laughed. “I can imagine,” she replied. “You took a bad fall. Luckily for you, you didn’t sustain any serious injuries. You might have to stay off your feet for a little while, but everything should be okay.”

  “Oh, thank you,” I told her gratefully. I didn’t want to be in the hospital longer than I had to be. “So I’m going home today?”

  “I don’t see why not,” she replied. “I’ll check in later and then you’ll be free to go.”

  “Great!” Raymond sighed with relief.

  I smiled too, but there was still a faint discomfort in my midsection. I tried to raise up on my elbow, but Raymond held me in place.

  “Hey, hey, hey,” he whispered. “Take it easy. We don’t want to cause any damage.”

  I looked up at him, saw the real concern in his eyes, and relented. I allowed him to fluff the pillow and tuck me in. He smoothed the hair framing my face and kissed my forehead. His acts of love softened me and made me feel guilty for having deceived him in the first place.

  “I’m sorry,” I said softly.

  He looked confused. “For what? The fall wasn’t your fault.”

  “Not that,” I sighed. “For tricking you. What I did was selfish and cruel. I pretended to be something I wasn’t…”

  “Shh…” he whispered against my ear as a tear rolled down
my cheek. “Hey, what’s this?” He brushed it away gently and commanded my attention when he held my chin with his forefinger and turned my face to his. “I was angry at first, but I’m glad you did. You only pretended to be rich, but everything else was you. I fell in love with you, not the rich fashion designer you pretended to be.”

  He chortled, almost like he could hardly believe himself, and relaxed against the chair and stared at the wall. The contortions of his face told me he saw far beyond it to something he was coming to grips with.

  “I’ve never been in love,” he confessed and leaned against the chair. He locked his fingers behind his head and stared at the wall. “There was a time when I thought I was cursed and would never find it. Hell, I didn’t believe it existed.”

  I was intrigued by him, and as he spoke, I couldn’t help admiring his square jaw, the evenness of his skin tone, the way his body moved, and even the muscles in his hands as he swung his elbows together as he spoke. He stood and I got an even better view of his ass and how firm his buns appeared under his cotton shorts. I wanted to make love to him. He turned and caught me staring, and I blushed in embarrassment. The smile on his face told me he had read my mind, and he came over and covered my lips with his.

  “What did you do to me, Anna Ramsey Jameson?” he asked when our lips parted.

  “I don’t know what you mean,” I replied in my most innocent voice. I grew more pensive. “You know, in the beginning, I didn’t expect half this much. Or maybe a little. I was thinking maybe if I meet this man who only wanted a bride, then it could work. I’d be the face he paraded in public and the woman who bore his child. In return, I’d escape my life of…” I paused and looked up at him when I felt him squeeze my hand in support. “I never expected to fall for you.”

  “I wanted exactly what you said. I mean, I thought that was all I could get, you know. I didn’t know any differently. I’d heard stories before about Romeo and Juliet, Kate and Leopold, but they were figments of the imaginations of people who wanted to escape reality. God knows, my parents were none of those people.”

  “What happened?” I wanted to know. Something had to have happened with them that shaped the person he was today. More times than not, the lessons we learned from others far removed from us didn’t leave a lasting impression—nothing as rigid and firm as those learned closer to home.

  “I don’t know,” he said and wiped his hand down his face. “I’ve never seen my parents in love. From as far back as I can remember, they were always fighting. Mom always wanted something from Dad. Dad always wanted to lock himself in his office. She would always pound on the door, making a ruckus. He would leave and come back drunk sometimes. I mean, even as a child…” He turned to me and said, “I remember seeing the exhaustion in his eyes. He was…broken. He had given up, and I was only fourteen at the time. I don’t think she saw or understood, but he was done. And one day, he left. Met with his lawyer in secret, willed everything to me, and left. He never looked back. I haven’t seen him since. I don’t know if he’s still alive, but I do know he wouldn’t want to be found. So I never looked.”

  “Wow. I guess even rich people have problems too.”

  He laughed. “Oh, we have more than our share, I can tell you that. Sometimes, and I might sound crazy for saying this, I feel like running away too. I understand exactly how Dad must have felt. It’s like being trapped in a life that’s not your own.”

  He had this faraway dreamy look that slowly pulled me in. “What do you want?”

  He smiled wryly and cocked his head to the side. “For a long time, I didn’t know the answer to that.” He moved his hand and caressed my stomach that was only a slight bulge at this point. I was in the middle of my first trimester so there wasn’t much to show, and I was so grateful I hadn’t been plagued by morning sickness or strange food cravings. A lady at the last shelter we had been to craved paper when she was pregnant. Maybe it tasted good when you were pregnant, but I didn’t understand it.

  “Now, I don’t feel so…lost,” he said in a half happy, half sad voice, like he was afraid to hold onto this moment and realize it wasn’t real.

  I placed my hand over his and brought it to my cheek. He used his forefinger to caress the spot, and except for when I was a little girl and had skinned my knee and my mom took me into her arms and rocked me until it didn’t hurt anymore, I had never felt more love. It burned in his eyes, and looking into their deep pits, I wanted nothing more than to pull him down onto me and fuck him on the hospital bed.

  He smiled and brought his lips to my ear. “You know, you’re going to give yourself away if you keep looking at me like I’m a piece of meat.”

  “Oh, my God.” I giggled and covered my mouth. “I can’t help it,” I apologized. “Look at you, parading your sexy ass in front of me, teasing me with lips I long to kiss…”

  “Well, all you gotta do is ask,” he said, and I felt his tongue slipping into my mouth. I clasped the back of his neck and pulled him closer, my breathing out of control.

  “I want you,” I whispered against his lips.

  “Then take me,” he dared in a croaky voice. He set me on fire. I dug into his arms and my body twisted, ready to ravage him, when the door opened.

  Someone cleared their throat, and when I looked, I saw that it was Mom. “Shit!” I whispered under my breath as embarrassment flooded my cheeks.

  “Don’t stop on my account,” she laughed. “It’s good to see two people in love.”

  We looked at each other when she said that, and a warm feeling settled into the pit of my stomach.

  “How are you, Marian?” Raymond asked politely.

  “I think you’re going to have to call me Mom one day.” She winked. “But I’m good. This darn cough is bugging me again, but I’m good. How’s our girl doing?”

  “Doc says she could be going home later,” Raymond replied.

  “Oh, good. That means my grandbaby is doing okay. I was worried.” She turned to me, and I saw her eyes glisten as the tears prepared to drop.

  “No, Mom, don’t cry,” I coaxed. “I’m fine.”

  “I know, sweetheart. I want nothing more than for you to be fine. I’ve failed you in so many ways—”

  “Enough of that talk, please. You didn’t fail me,” I told her and reached for her hand. “Look at me!” She turned sorrowful eyes slowly towards me. Her head was wrapped in a black and blue bandana, and she wore a plain navy-blue dress. She was simply dressed, but she looked a whole lot better than she had before in the bleached dresses that had been washed so many times they were becoming transparent.

  “It wasn’t your fault you lost your job and couldn’t keep the house,” I told her. “Things happened. We’re okay now.”

  Raymond stood aside, watching the interaction between my mother and me, a strange shadow crossing his features. He folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the cherry-finish night table to my right.

  “Thank God for Mr. Raymond,” she said amidst tears as she looked at him. “When she told me what she was doing, I was so mad. I told her not to. But she wanted to help me and Teresa. It was a bad thing to do, but—”

  “It all worked out, and I’m glad she didn’t listen to you,” Raymond interjected when he saw how emotional she was. “And no more of that Mr. Raymond thing. You make me sound old.”

  She chuckled and got up to give him a hug. “Thank you,” she said, “for coming back to find her.” I saw her quickly pass her free hand over her face, and I knew she was trying not to cry. Then she pulled back, and her face wore a bright smile once more. “I need to get back to the house. Teresa must be bouncing off the walls by now, or she might try to hide from Grace and go down to the pool all by herself. Lord, that child will be the death of me.”

  I laughed when I remembered how many times she had said the same thing about me. “Okay. We’ll see you later.”

  “Okay, love,” she said and kissed me on the forehead. “Take care of my grandbaby.”

 
; “I will, Mom.”

  She left, and the raw passion that electrified us moments before went with her. What she left behind was something even more beautiful, and I clasped Raymond’s fingers, clinging to the love I had found in the unlikeliest of places.

  Chapter Twenty-Three (Raymond)

  I stood outside the old building Anna had called home for a few years. Everyone noticed me because I looked so out of place. The long, dreary faces went in and out of the dilapidated structure, and the awning flapped and drew every passerby’s attention to the condition of the people inside. An old man leaned against the side of the building, puffing and blowing smoke circles into the air, like he didn’t have a care in the world. Maybe he didn’t.

  I didn’t want to go back inside. I thought when I went looking for Anna five months ago that would be the only time I would see this place. But the memories of the dreary faces haunted me, and I was riddled with guilt that I benefited from life purely out of circumstance—my father happened to be rich and theirs weren’t.

  I sighed and stuffed my hands in my pocket as I climbed the cracked steps for the second time.

  That evening when I got home, Anna was relaxing in the lounge chaise on the back patio, fanning herself vigorously. She was flustered and sweating and barely able to move.

  “Hi, sweetheart,” I called, and she twisted with much effort to look at me.

  “Hey,” she huffed and opened her arms for me.

  “How are you doing?”

  “How do you think?” she asked before she pecked me on the lips. “She needs to get out of me now. I can hardly manage her. I feel like a truck.”

  “But a pretty truck.” I grinned.

  She fanned me off. “You can say that when men start being the trucks.” She twisted like she was trying to get comfortable. I grabbed one of the cushions stacked on the other chairs across from where she sat and was about to slip it behind her back when I saw her wobbling from side to side. I was confused, so I watched her while holding the cushion in front of me. I couldn’t understand what she was doing.