Deepest Desire

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Deepest Desire Page 26

by Weston Parker


  Renee laughed. “You’re not a blimp.”

  “I know, but I feel like one. Everything is swollen. You should see me walking around sometimes. I knock stuff over with my belly all the time. Showering is ridiculous. I can’t tie my own shoes, or paint my toes, or do anything at all that requires a bending motion.”

  “I can paint your toes for you,” Renee offered.

  “Greyson suggested I should ask you.”

  “Where do you keep your polishes? I’ll go get them and we’ll give you pretty toes for when you have your pretty little girl.”

  “In the bathroom under the sink,” I said.

  Renee fetched the polishes, and when she returned she pulled off my socks and tried to conceal her shock at how swollen my feet were. “This looks like it hurts,” she said as I sifted through the different colors.

  I handed her a hot pink one and leaned back into the pillows. “It doesn’t not hurt, I’ll admit that much.”

  Renee painted my toes with careful control. She never got any polish on my skin, and she fanned it dry with her hands as we continued to chat. I remembered the last time we did this was when we were still living in our family home and both of us were still in high school.

  And mom and dad were still alive.

  “This is nice,” I said.

  Renee paused as she searched for a topcoat. “It is. Like old times.”

  “Just like old times.”

  “Soon we’ll be making memories with your little one,” Renee said.

  I rubbed my belly. “You hear that? Auntie is excited to meet you. One day the three of us will all be sitting and painting our toes and fingernails.”

  All of a sudden a swell of emotion tore through me. Tears immediately came to my eyes and I dabbed them with my fingers.

  “Are you okay?” Renee asked.

  “I’m more than okay,” I said, dismissing her concern, “Everything is perfect.”

  Renee smiled, understanding the sentimentality of it all, and brushed on the final topcoat of polish.

  I went to join Greyson in the bedroom after my toes dried. Renee was set up in the spare bedroom and I could hear the water running in the other bathroom as she most likely washed her face and brushed her teeth. I did the same thing and then made my way to the bed.

  I slid in and bumped into Greyson’s side. He didn’t stir. He slept soundly, his steady breathing a comforting sound in my ears as I closed my eyes and curled into Greyson’s side. Even in his sleep, he embraced me. His hands found the swell of my belly and he held me to him.

  It was my favorite place to be, and despite being a bit too warm, and having an aching hip, I stayed where I was.

  I stayed where I knew I was always supposed to be.

  Greyson

  Skylar was still sleeping soundly when I woke up the next morning. I kissed her cheek, and then her nose, and then realized I had been lying in bed staring at her for nearly fifteen minutes. So I rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb her, and slipped away downstairs to begin making breakfast.

  Renee was already downstairs when I emerged in the kitchen. She had brewed a pot of coffee and was standing near the sliding glass doors to look out into the gardens.

  “Morning,” I said.

  She jumped and spun around. Her cheeks flushed pink as she smiled at me. “Sorry, you startled me. I didn’t think either of you would be up for a while.”

  “I’m an early riser,” I said.

  “I made coffee,” Renee said, nodding towards the still steaming coffee pot.

  “Wonderful,” I said, grabbing a mug from the cupboard and pouring some for myself. I sipped the rich fuel and went to the fridge, where I grabbed some eggs and milk. “How late did the two of you stay up last night?”

  “I’m not really sure, to be honest, but I don’t think it was any later than midnight. I painted Skylar’s toes for her and then she was toast. I sent her to bed.”

  “She’ll be happy you did that for her. I offered to paint them weeks ago but she turned me down. Apparently I would do it wrong.”

  “Probably,” Renee said with a crooked grin.

  I shrugged. “It’s nice to have you here, Renee, and not just to paint her toes. I know she appreciates your support. So do I. Skylar wasn’t lying yesterday, I’m a bit scared of this whole thing. Of being a dad.”

  Renee leaned on the counter on the other side of the stove from me and wrapped both her hands around her coffee mug. “Can I be honest with you, Greyson?”

  My stomach did a back flip and I paused with one egg in my hand, poised over the edge of a bowl. “Of course you can.”

  Renee sipped her coffee and then met my eye. Her gaze was intense. “Men who worry and stress about becoming fathers are the men who make excellent dads. It means they care. This little girl has no idea how lucky she is. Her daddy is going to love her more than he knows he is capable of loving anything, and her mommy is going to teach her how to be a strong woman. Her parents are a great combination of strengths. You guys are going to rock at this whole parenting thing.”

  Her words eased my mind and I felt my body deflate like a balloon.

  “You really were worried, hey?” Renee asked, peering up at me with a grin. My relief was clearly evident.

  “Yeah,” I admitted, “I was.”

  Renee rested a hand on my arm. “Trust me. You have nothing to worry about. Not until she starts dating, at least.”

  I blinked. Renee laughed.

  “I think that will be Skylar’s forte, not mine,” I said.

  “Maybe,” Renee nodded, “Maybe not. Time will tell. Give it fourteen years or so and then-”

  “Fourteen years?” I asked incredulously.

  “Well, yeah. How old do think girls wait until they start dating? Until their twenties?”

  I frowned and finally cracked the egg I had been holding on the edge of the bowl. I proceeded to do this with three more eggs, and then I added the other ingredients to make pancakes. “I was hoping they would wait until the prospect didn’t give their fathers a heart attack.”

  “That only makes it more fun,” Renee whispered.

  I groaned and shook my head.

  “Don’t stress. You have Skylar. She’s like a walking talking plethora of knowledge. She’ll handle every parenting curve ball like a pro. Do you doubt that?”

  “No,” I said, “Not at all.”

  “Good. See? You’ll be fine. The two of you have totally got this.”

  “I’m glad I have her,” I said more to myself than to Renee.

  But she heard me, and she paused with her coffee halfway to her lips to look up at me. “She’s glad to have you, too.”

  “Are the two of you gossiping about me down there?” Skylar called from up on the loft.

  Renee and I both looked up at her. She was leaning forward on the railing. She was wearing a pair of loose gray sweats and a baggy shirt- my shirt, I realized.

  “Come on down,” I called, “Pancakes will be ready soon.”

  “I think we will have to pass on the pancakes,” Skylar said.

  I detected a note of tension in her voice. I put down the whisk I was holding and looked back up at her. She gave me a smile that conveyed a lot of things: joy, fear, excitement, anxiety.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  Skylar nodded. “Yes, but I think we have to go. My water just broke.”

  It felt like someone had just driven into my gut with a semi-truck. I sucked in a sharp breath, and then my body took over for me.

  I rushed out of the kitchen and took the stairs two at a time. Skylar watched me the whole while with a nervous smile playing on her lips.

  “I’m going to grab the bag then we’ll get in the car. Are you okay? Do you need anything?”

  She shook her head and patted my arm reassuringly. “I’m okay. Don’t rush, I don’t want you to forget anything.”

  How she was staying so calm, I had no idea. I raced by her and went into our bedroom, where I grabbed
the bag we had packed over two weeks ago for this trip to the hospital. We had everything we needed for the stay in the hospital and the trip home.

  The trip home.

  The next time we came back here we would have our daughter.

  I fought back the urge to cry and slung the bag over my shoulder. Then I joined Skylar and helped her down the stairs, one step at a time.

  When we reached the bottom step Renee was there. She took Skylar’s other hand and the two of us led her out to the garage and to my car. Before she climbed into the front seat she clutched at her belly and gritted her teeth as a contraction tore through her.

  I rubbed her back and whispered comforting words in her ear. As soon as the pain had passed Renee and I got her into the car, and moments later I was peeling out of the driveway and racing towards the hospital.

  My fingers were gripping the steering wheel so tight that my knuckles were turning white. Sweat had gathered at the nape of my neck, and all of my skin felt hot. I had never been so filled with adrenaline and nerves in my entire life.

  This was more intense than the day I had gone to Luccio Bravo’s house to save Skylar.

  “We’ll be there in ten,” I said, looking over at Skylar before quickly returning my gaze to the road. There was as sheen of sweat across her forehead and her jaw was tight. She was in pain, and I hated it. I hated not being able to make it go away for her.

  “It’s okay, Greyson,” Skylar said through clenched teeth, “We have plenty of time. I’m alright. Everything is fine.”

  I saw her hands ball into fists as another contraction took hold.

  I grabbed her hand and we held on to one another for the rest of the drive.

  When we arrived at the hospital Renee ran inside to grab a wheelchair and alert the nurses behind the check in counter. She was already rushing back outside with the wheelchair when Skylar managed to get out of the car with my help.

  I eased her down into the chair and she let out a pained moan and held her belly. I put my hand on her shoulder as I pushed her through the sliding doors into the hospital.

  We were met with a swarm of professionals. Everyone was smiling as the buzzed around us. They took Skylar’s name and confirmed that I was the father. They scribbled on clipboards as they asked Skylar more questions.

  When did her contractions start?

  How far apart were they?

  How long ago did her water break?

  Was she experiencing and dizziness or fatigue?

  The rest of the questions were lost on me, and I found myself standing behind Skylar’s wheelchair like a fool as Renee hovered over my shoulder. I shot her a nervous look and she offered me a warm smile.

  She put her hand on my back. “It’s going to be fine, I promise.”

  I swallowed and couldn’t find the words to thank her. So I gave Skylar’s shoulder a squeeze to remind her that I was there as she continued answering questions.

  When the nurses were done with the mini interrogation they told us they were going to take us to the delivery room. The words ‘delivery room’ thundered around my skull as I started pushing Skylar down the hallway. Renee was hot on my heels as I leaned over to whisper in Skylar’s ear. “We’re about to have a baby.”

  She looked up at me. She was still beautiful even when she was in pain. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

  I hadn’t been expecting those words to come out of her mouth. I continued pushing her down the hall behind the nurses, but I never took my eyes away from hers. “This part will be over before you know it, and we’ll be holding our little girl. I’m going to be beside you the whole time. Whatever you need, I’ll make sure you have it. It’s going to be okay.” I kissed her forehead and she closed her eyes. I kept my lips pressed to her clammy skin for a lingering moment, and then I straightened and she turned back around in the wheelchair as I pushed her through the doors to our delivery room.

  The nurses helped Skylar up and she got onto the bed in the middle of the room. I assumed my position beside her and grabbed her hand. She gave it a tight squeeze and watched everyone work with wide eyes.

  “Hey,” I said softly, directing her attention to me. Her wide eyes look settled on me. “Good thing you painted your toes last night. Can you imagine if these poor people had to see those hideous feet of yours in their natural state?”

  A nurse snickered as she walked by me and Skylar managed a playful scowl. “Really?” She breathed. “You’re going to try to be funny now?”

  “Try to be funny? I am funny. I’m hilarious.”

  Skylar took a deep breath and closed her eyes. “You’re the funniest person I know.”

  I looked up when a new arrival came into the room. He was a middle aged man dressed in a white coat. He wore glasses and was clean shaven. His brown hair was flecked with gray and the corners of his eyes wrinkled as he smiled at me and Skylar. “Good morning, folks. I’m Dr. Browning. Looks like we’re going to be delivering a baby today. You think you’re ready to be parents?”

  Skylar and I nodded.

  “You’re sure?”

  Skylar nodded and I arched an eyebrow. Dr. Browning caught my eye. “This is kind of a non-refundable thing,” I said, “So we’re sure.”

  Dr. Browning pointed a finger at me and grinned. “I like you. You’re going to be a good father. Alright people,” he called, “Let’s do this.”

  Skylar

  “I don’t understand why this is taking so long,” Greyson muttered, craning his neck to try to peer through the door that was wedged open.

  I sighed and closed my eyes. “They’ll bring her back soon. They have to put her bracelet on and make sure she’s healthy. You know, the things professionals do? Then she’s all ours. Forever.”

  I opened my eyes when I felt Greyson staring at me. I gave him a smile that I hoped didn’t look as tired as I felt.

  I had been lucky to only have to suffer through four hours of labor. I knew most women didn’t have that kind of luck in the delivery room. My own mother had spent twenty one hours in labor with me before I finally came out, and I had been terrified that was what my experience was going to be.

  But four hours after meeting Dr. Browning our little girl came out crying, and I was finally afforded a moment to breathe and rest.

  Greyson, however, was having a hard time keeping it together. The doctors and nurses had taken our little girl out of the room only five minutes ago to make sure she was fit and healthy.

  “What if they bring back the wrong kid?” Greyson asked.

  I fought back the irresistible urge to laugh at him. “They won’t bring back the wrong kid. They’ll bring back our kid. Relax. Then Renee can come in. I’m sure she’s losing it out in the waiting room.”

  Greyson was still stuck on the whole ‘doctors swapping our baby with another baby’ thing and ignored my comment about my sister. “I’ve heard crazy stories of parents taking the wrong baby home and not finding out about until years later. What happens then, do you think? Do they keep the one they took home or do they switch back?”

  “I’m not feeling up to this sort of philosophical conversation right now,” I said.

  “It’s not philosophical. It’s real. I don’t want them giving our little girl to some other couple who-”

  Greyson immediately stopped talking when the doors opened and got to his feet. The doctor came in with a pink bundle of blankets in his arm and came right to our bed. He stood by my side and I saw a little hand with tiny fingers reach up out of the bundle.

  The time it took for the doctor to lower her into my arms felt like it lasted an eternity. Greyson was leaning over on my other side trying to steal a peek at her as she was placed in my arms.

  I stared down at my daughter. She was perfect. Her eyes were barely open and blue. I knew this was likely to change over the next month or so. She had a full head of black hair that swirled at the crown of her head. Her cheeks were pudgy and pink and her nose was the size of my fingertip.

  “Hell
o baby girl,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Daddy and I have been waiting a long time to meet you. Welcome to the world.”

  I lowered my arms so that Greyson could see her. When I looked over at him he had tears in his eyes. He reached out slowly and resting his hand ever so lightly on the blankets above her little chest. His forefinger stretched out to run gently across her tiny fingers.

  “You sure they brought us the right one?” I asked.

  Greyson wasn’t even able to look at me as I poked fun at him. All of his attention was on his daughter; his perfect little daughter. “I’m sure,” he said quietly. Finally his eyes rose to mine. “She looks like you,” he whispered.

  “She looks like us,” I said, bowing to kiss her forehead and cheeks. She closed her eyes and made a small sound that made me smile. “She still needs a name.”

  “A name,” Greyson whispered as he pondered.

  We were alone in the room. It was silent save for mine and Greyson’s breathing, and the soft little sighs from our baby. I stared at her and waited for a name to strike me.

  “What about Gwen?” Greyson asked.

  “Gwen,” I said, mostly just to see how it felt speaking the word. “It’s pretty. What made you think of it?”

  “It was my mother’s name,” Greyson said, his eyes still glued to our daughter.

  I looked back down at her, too. “Gwen Kline the second,” I said softly, dropping my head to kiss her once more. Her forehead was warm beneath my lips and when I pulled away I couldn’t fight the tears that escaped.

  Greyson wrapped an arm around my shoulders and the two of us sat there together staring down at her. I knew that I would be content to do this for the rest of my life. Everything had changed in a matter of hours.

  “Do you want to hold her?” I asked Greyson.

  He nodded and sat down on the edge of the hospital bed. I passed Gwen to him and he took her like a natural, snuggling her up against his chest and pulling the blankets up under her chin. “You’re perfect,” he cooed to her, “Just like your mom.”

 

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