BABY ROYAL

by Bella Grant

  “Jo—Dr. Sullivan?”

  I whipped my head around and put my surprised face on. “Ms. Sims? What a pleasant surprise. I was on my way to my office after grabbing a Coke.”

  She smirked and folded her arms, and I knew she didn’t believe me. “Oh really?”

  “Yes, really.” I chuckled nervously under her questioning glare.

  “Then where is your Coke, Dr. Sullivan?”

  Fuck. I headed back to the vending machine, scolding myself for the inability to make anything look casual. This is why you don’t date, I reminded myself as I grabbed the pop from the bottom and held it up for her to see.

  She suppressed a giggle with her hand and covered her sweet mouth I craved a taste of. I got a good look at her. I was thankful no one was in the waiting room. She wore the yellow sun dress I had taken off her a mere three weeks ago, and my hands ached to unzip the back of it again. She noticed the way I studied her and blushed under my lustful gaze.

  “Found it,” I declared as I returned to her. Together, we walked away from the reception desk and out the door leading to the parking lot, and away from any lingering eyes. “I was on my way for a stroll on my lunch break. Care to join me?” I offered.

  “Josh, what were you really doing in outpatient services?” she asked once we were under the cloudless California sky and a gentle breeze pushed at her dress. Her ponytail exposed her neck to me—the neck I had kissed—distracting me more than a little.

  I held my hands up in defeat. “You caught me. I was actually hoping to surprise you. I wanted to see you, Fiona,” I admitted and held out my arm for her to take. I caught the hesitation in her movement before she looped her arm around mine and we made the slow trek down the sidewalk. Silence loomed over us for a few moments, before I gathered the courage to speak thought I hoped she would tell me about her ER visit, I knew things needed to be said before that. “I’m here because I wanted to apologize in person.”

  She stopped walking and glanced up at me. “Josh, I…”

  “Please, before you say anything, I know you probably didn’t get a chance to read my text. I saw the ER notes this morning when I got back into the office. You had a panic attack and Lisa brought you back in,” I stated and she dropped my gaze. “Do you want to talk about?” I asked before I went on.

  She shook her head and I dropped the subject, and continued to lead us across the street and into the veil of Golden Gate Park with bikers, runners, and dog walkers among us. I was betting on a calmer setting to get her to open up because once the hospital was out of sight, the tension lifted, at least for me.

  I directed us towards a nearby park bench where we sat down side by side. When she rested her head on my shoulder, for once in my life, I felt like a regular person on a regular date. No lab coat, or someone paging me. No “Dr.” or “Doc.” No rushing to the emergency room with files under my arm. Just Joshua Sullivan, twenty-nine years old, holding the hand of Fiona Sims, the most attractive woman I had ever had the pleasure of spending time with.

  I basked in my own feelings and sighed.

  “You okay?” she asked, and I rested my head on hers, wondering if I should keep the subject light.

  “Just enjoying being a regular person for once. Life is so much easier when you aren’t putting out multiple fires a day. It’s nice to not have to worry about anyone but myself for a moment,” I explained and noticed her body tensed.

  There it was. Another red flag. The psychiatrist came out in an instant. The need to talk was there.

  “Fiona, about the other night—I want you to know why I wasn’t the one who saw you. My brother in law had a tumble down the stairs while my nieces were asleep and so my sister needed me to come stay with them while she took him to the hospital, since I’m the closest to her. She didn’t want to wake them up so I dashed out of here to help her out. Otherwise,” I placed my hand on the top of her thigh, “I would have been the one to see you.”

  She remained silent, yet didn’t move her thigh away from my thigh so I took it as I good sign and added, “I want you to know that you’ve been on my mind day and night Fiona, and I’ve been looking forward to our session together.”

  She continued to remain still next to me prompting me to study her and that’s when I took note of the overuse of makeup—her attempt to cover the dark circles and the exhaustion on her face. I tried to keep my thoughts tamed and waited for her response, but all she did was continue to stare straight ahead. Her feet kicked out like a little girl sitting on a counter too high for her.

  “Tell me something, Josh. What does it feel like to be normal?” she asked, and turned the conversation completely back on me. I wasn’t surprised by it and figured I should take the bait and laced my fingers through hers.

  “Well, for starters, being able to hold your hand is quite nice. Sitting outside without a care in the world is quite nice, too. Just being here with you feels incredible. It makes me want to be a kid again with no responsibilities,” I honestly explained as I squeezed her hand, hoping to get her to look at me, to let me know I wasn’t alone in this.

  When she did, I frowned when I saw the tears form in the corners of her pretty eyes.

  “Hey, did I say something wrong?” I reached out to wipe them away. She jerked away from me, her shoulder scrunched up in defense as she turned her back to me. Her fingers slid away from mine.

  “No, not at all. Actually, I think you just resolved my issue,” she said. Her voice was raw with emotion, and she suddenly stood up and wiped her own tears away.

  “Fiona, what issue? The panic attack? Or me not calling? Look, I said I was sorry. I thought it would be best for us to—”

  “There’s no need to explain. It’s none of that. I understand why you did what you did. I’m s-sorry, I shouldn’t have come out here with you. Please forget what I said. As a matter of fact, forget we ran into each other today, okay?”

  Her voice was clipped and broken as if she tried so hard to keep her guard in place in front of me. I stood up behind her and put my hands on her shoulders. She didn’t jerk away, but her fists clenched in response.

  “I’m terribly sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. That was not my intention by all means. I just… I wanted to see you and make sure you were okay. I was very concerned about you—”

  She turned abruptly and knocked my hands off her shoulders. Hurt flashed in her blue eyes. “I didn’t ask for you to worry about me, did I? I have an appointment with you tomorrow, now, thanks to you bumping it up from Monday. Couldn’t you have waited two more damn days? God, I’m beginning to think you’re obsessed with me,” she spat, and I winced, taking a step back from her sharp tongue before she lashed out more. “Forget I was here, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow in your office, and no funny business,” She turned sharply on her heel and left with a huff.

  I stood there like a defeated man and watched her storm off. I wanted to follow her, but my feet wouldn’t budge. I knew better than to take any of her speech to heart, though it was hard not to when I was so in love with her. Something wasn’t right. She was shielding herself from me for a reason, and I needed to know why. Regardless of what it took, or if she would end up resenting me for it, I needed to know what happened to the Fiona Sims I had fallen in love with.

  Chapter 20

  I don’t know what possessed me to keep going, but I did. I walked right out of Golden Gate Park and straight down the street, past the looming hospital and into the colorful neighborhood of Haight-Ashbury. Oddly enough, the psychedelic swirls of colors and people soothed me as I strolled among the inner streets. Shops of all kinds surrounded and distracted me from the horrible feeling in my gut.

  I went inside a few of the shops and bought an organic lemonade at one and a gluten-free muffin at another. I window shopped as I slurped my lemonade, and was busy looking at a purple crop top when I heard the high pitch of a little girl giggling nearby. She was maybe three years old, and her mother handed her a red balloon as they stepped onto the
sidewalk from a children’s used clothing store.

  She was beautiful, with big, curious eyes and her light-brown hair done up in two bouncy, wild pigtails. Her chubby hands clasped tightly around the string as another form came out of the shop. Her father, who appeared to be the one to thank for her looks. She giggled when he emerged and absentmindedly let go of the string for the sake of her daddy’s arms. Her mom caught the balloon before it could escape into the sky as her daddy heaved her up and gave her a wide smile. He took the mom’s hand, and together, they continued down the sidewalk. They never noticed what an impact they had made on an onlooker like myself.

  I missed being that little girl who had a mommy to hold her balloon and a daddy to pick her up. I missed being a part of a family and parents who looked out for me, no matter what. I missed them. Period.

  The new tears threatened to form as I allowed others to move around me. I told myself to keep it together and moved my legs to the front of the children’s clothing shop. They were having a sale. Small clothes of different shades of blues, yellows, and pinks adorned the window along with daisy stickers on the glass. I decided it wouldn't hurt to look and opened the wooden door to a tiny bell announcing my arrival.

  The shop was small with an elderly woman behind the counter and another customer walking around. I greeted the clerk with a nod of my head before my eyes darted around the small space. I maneuvered around the various racks of clothing. The shop was daisy-themed with flowers decorating just about everything. There was a blue sky painted on the ceiling, and children’s music played in the background. I relaxed into the atmosphere and soaked it all in.

  I headed over to the infant section and rummaged casually through the racks of cute little jeans, tees, and dresses. I wondered if the baby growing inside me was a boy or a girl. I secretly hoped for a girl. I imagined Josh wrapped around her tiny little finger from the moment he laid eyes on her. Listening to him as he talked about his nieces brought me to that conclusion. He clearly adored those little girls and spoiled them like a good uncle should. A little girl heaved up in his arms with me at his side didn’t seem too surreal.

  I moved on to the various stuffed animals and toys that lined the back wall, and a certain stuffed animal drew my attention. It reminded me of my own childhood plush friend. It was a blue elephant, and I reached out for it to hold it in my hands. It was made of soft velvet material and had a pull string along its backside. I tugged the string all the way out and listened as a melody played faintly from inside.

  My heart lurched forward when I recognized the tune. It was John Lennon’s “Imagine,” which happened to be my mother’s favorite song to sing to me when I was little. I choked back the emotions daring to come back up. Good grief. Being pregnant is more emotional than grieving, I thought as I clutched the lovely toy.

  “A great gift for anyone expecting a little one.” The elderly clerk smiled softly as she neared me. Her hair was in a thick, white braid, and disappeared behind her back. Her eyes were as gentle as her voice, enclosed with etched crow’s feet. Her purple shawl draped over her long black skirt and gave her the grandmother vibe. I returned the gentle smile and looked down at the elephant.

  “My favorite stuffed animal growing up was a blue elephant similar to this one, though it didn't play sweet music like this one does,” I replied with a little laughter in my voice.

  “I agree. Though I do like the original recording of that song the best,” she commented. “There is a sale going on today. Expectant mothers get an additional fifteen percent off their purchase. I thought I would let you know, dear, but no rush or pressure.”

  I thanked her for the information, and she toddled back up to the front to greet another customer who the bell had chimed for. I witnessed their interaction as the woman hoisted a baby carrier onto the counter. The clerk oohed and aahed at whatever little bundle of joy was cooing inside. The mother, on the other hand, looked exhausted. She wore pajama pants with a tank top, and her hair was thrown up into a messy bun that did nothing to hide her tired face. Nonetheless, she looked proud as the clerk cooed at the baby and asked the mom how she was doing.

  I made my way up to the counter and caught the elderly woman’s attention along with the new mom’s. I placed the elephant down cautiously as if I would break it.

  “This is all,” I said and met the new mom’s eyes.

  “Those are a life saver,” she commented and pointed at the elephant being placed in a shopping bag by the clerk. “I got the same one for my son who wouldn’t stop crying all night. As soon as I pull the string, he quiets right down and is out before the song ends.”

  I smiled and allowed myself to acknowledge the sleeping newborn, a girl, in the carrier. I gave the clerk the exact change from my purse and thanked her along with the mom for the advice.

  The new mom spoke up before I left. “Don’t worry, I had the same look on my face when I found out I was expecting my first. And let me tell you, my ex was not ecstatic about it either. It’s natural to freak out, but I assure you, being a mom is the best thing. Exhausting, yes, but there is nothing better than holding your entire world in the comfort of your arms. You’ll eventually get the hang of it.”

  I was speechless. Was I so easy to read? I glanced between her and the baby she had taken out of the carrier to cradle. The baby was asleep yet searched for food, her mouth opening and closing.

  “Thank you for the kind words, but the elephant is for someone else,” I lied hastily, and she tilted her head, perhaps surprised she was wrong about me.

  “Congrats, by the way. She’s beautiful,” I added and walked out before I could see the face the new mom had given me.

  The problem was she wasn’t wrong about me. Not all. She was right on the dot, and it terrified me more than it should have at how easily a stranger could see right through me. Because that meant if she could see it, Josh could certainly see something was wrong. No matter how hard I pushed him away, I was doing quite the opposite.

  “Shit,” I swore out loud and blinked out of my own thoughts. The sound of a bus’s engine roared my way, and I took out my phone from my purse to catch the time. It was well past four, and Lisa would be home from her classes any minute. I dug deeper into the confines of my purse to reveal enough change to make it back to our apartment.

  My low heels clicked down the sidewalk and up into the bus where I found a window seat in the back and held the shopping bag on my lap. The bus rumbled back into traffic, and I observed the city as it sped past me.

  The bus ride gave me time to consider my recent interactions of the day. From yelling at Josh to the nostalgia of my childhood to the new mom’s words of wisdom. It was like the universe was trying to assure me whatever I decided, it would turn out all right. Or maybe it was my parents guiding me. Maybe I needed to see all of that— the little girl, the clothes, the new mom—to come to the conclusion I would be okay, with or without Josh.

  Josh had the right to choose for himself. Yet I’d shoved him away so I wouldn’t have to hear him out. I didn’t want him to let me down, and I didn’t want to be disappointed. I tried so hard not to set myself up for failure, but it was exactly what I had done.

  I pulled out the elephant and crushed it against my chest. The way Josh’s face fell when I jerked away from him broke my heart. All I wanted was for him to reach out to me. To let me know he still cared, that this wasn’t simply some mark on his record. That it meant something more than words and lingering touches. That if I told him about the life growing inside me, he would rejoice in the news.

  I plucked the string of the elephant, and the melody came to life. All the way home, I clung to the stuffed animal and the small thread of hope that Josh would be happy when I told him.

  Fiona, please let me start with an apology. I am sorry I haven’t been able to treat you the way I’ve wanted to since day one. Every night before bed, I imagine you here sleeping soundly next to me. I would like to make it up to you in any way I can. I know this is selfish
to ask but please, wait for me. That’s all I ask. I promise to not make you wait long. I just need a little more time to sort some things out with myself. I promise it will be worth the wait, my love. Then we can lay in bed and play as many rounds of Smash Brothers as you want. I should have sent this text weeks ago and hope you can forgive an inexperienced guy like me for being a coward.

  I look forward to seeing you tomorrow. With love, Josh.

  The massive text had been sent hours ago, and I was curled up in my bed, under the safety of my covers, reading it over and over. The elephant was snuggled against my chest as I stared at my empty reply box.

  Lisa had left an hour ago, and it was harder to sleep alone in such a quiet place. Even the TV’s low-volume reruns of Friends didn’t help, not when I had someone across town thinking of me as I was thinking of him. There was so much to say between us and so few words said out loud. A few minutes passed before I put my phone on silent for the night and rolled over to face the wall.

  I thought about the mother from the shop and what she had said about her first born not being able to sleep at night, so I tugged at the string. “Imagine” filled the empty space in my room, and my eyes grew heavy before I even realized it. In the morning, I vowed to run back to that shop in hopes of seeing the new mom so I could thank her for the best sleep I’ve ever had in my own bed.

  I don’t want to sleep alone anymore. Please hurry <3

  My text was read around three in the morning, and I knew he felt the same way.

  Chapter 21

  I knew Vickie was on my side when an extra-large Starbucks coffee appeared on my desk. It was her way of telling me whatever I had to throw her way today, she was up for the challenge. I noticed a similar cup on her desk when I walked in, though she was nowhere in sight. I put my briefcase down and made a mental note to get her a Starbucks gift card as thanks. I hovered over my desk, not ready to sit just yet, and picked up the thick paper cup. The first taste told me there was an espresso shot in it as well, and I added to my mental note. A Starbucks gift card and a bottle of wine—more of a bribe at that point than a thank you.