Maybe Baby Lite

by ANDREA SMITH

  Trey returned to bed wearing boxers. He climbed under the covers, pulling me to him. “So,” he said, “are you ready to hear what happened tonight after we dropped you off?”

  “How messed up is it?” I asked.

  “It’s pretty crazy. You may decide to run screaming back to Kentucky.”

  “Doubtful, Trey. Knowing all that you do about me and my baggage, it couldn’t possibly rival that.”

  Trey shot me a “wanna bet” look.

  “First things first. The reason Tess called me was to get some confidential legal advice. Despite our past, she knows that she can trust me and I think you’ll understand why it had to be me she called for help. Apparently, Tess and Nigel are in love.”

  I gasped, sitting bolt upright in disbelief.

  “No!” I choked, “Really?”

  Trey nodded. “Tess spent a lot of time with Caroline in Napa; Zach spent a lot of time on the road jockeying. Tess said she was never compatible with her husband; she clearly saw that Caroline wasn't happy or compatible with Nigel. They formed a friendship borne out of mutual misery, it seems. When Zach was around during off-season, the two couples would go yachting together. The affair has been going on for several years. Tristan knew about it. The only reason I found out was through Tess.”

  I studied his expression, eager to see whether it bothered him that his ex-fiancée had been screwing his own brother. He didn’t appear fazed at all.

  “Zach found out about the affair and threatened to tell Caroline if Tess didn’t agree to his terms for a divorce. Tess brought most of the wealth into that marriage and Zach basically wanted it all. I advised Tess not to agree to Zach’s terms, that she and Nigel needed to come clean with Caroline. That was their plan after the first of the year. Tonight when Landon arrived, all of that changed. He came inside dropping digs about seeing you and Tristan outside hugging.”

  He stopped, a frown crossing his face. His expression changed to sheepishness when he continued. “I was pissed, and pretty drunk, so I made an off-the-cuff remark about people in glass houses not throwing stones. Landon was immediately on the defensive. He asked me how the fuck I knew about it. I told him a family member had divulged the whole sordid secret. He immediately went to Tess and started threatening to out her. I was extremely confused about why Nigel’s affair with Tess would infuriate Landon. To make an already long story short, Landon misunderstood my comments. He thought I was referring to the affair that he’s been having with Caroline.”

  “Oh my God!” I exclaimed, my voice rising.

  Trey shushed me while nodding his head. Apparently, Landon had confided in Tess, not knowing that Tess was in love with Nigel.

  “This should be on Jerry Springer.”

  Trey nodded and pressed on. “Anyway, by this time, everything unraveled. Caroline was mad because Nigel had been cheating with Tess and because Landon knew and hadn’t told her out of loyalty to his sister.”

  “And your parents?”

  “I’m quite sure both sets of parents are extremely disgusted with it all.”

  “Where’s Caroline now?”

  “She left with Landon. Nigel’s back here and Tess is with her family. Caroline is flying back to California tomorrow. This is their problem to sort out now. I’m glad everything’s out in the open. By the way, while everyone was airing their dirty laundry tonight, I clarified something to both families.”

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “They all know now that the baby Tess miscarried was Zach’s, not mine. Feel better?”

  “Yes,” I said, sighing, “for some reason I really do.”

  “That doesn’t mean that the friendship between my parents and the Andrews won’t be strained for a while, but in reality, everyone seems to be with the person that they really want to be with for now.”

  “What about you, Trey?”

  “I’m with the person I love, but she won’t marry me. It bothers me; I can’t lie. What’s to say after our baby’s born you won’t find another reason to avoid marrying me. I understand what frightens you. I really do.”

  “What frightens me?”

  “Your past,” he answered, “and the fact that you feel as if you're a product of it. You’re not one bit like your mother.”

  “How can you be so sure, Trey?”

  “I can see what you’re made of and it’s all good.”

  “I don’t have a point of reference on marriage,” I admitted, shrugging. “I’ve been left to my own devices since childhood. I’m independent. I don’t know if I could adapt. We fight a lot, too.”

  “We can find our way together, Tylar,” he answered softly. “It’s new to me, too. There will be disagreements and arguments; that's to be expected.”

  “I get that Trey, but you're extremely bossy. You have to let me make some of my own decisions.”

  “I will. I promise. Let’s get some sleep now, Tylar,” he said softly, pulling the covers up over us. “We can talk more in the morning, on our way home.”

  “We’re leaving tomorrow?” I asked, surprised.

  “Oh yeah, I’ve had enough family for one holiday.” He leaned over, resting his hand on my abdomen and kissing my lips softly. The distance between us had closed. We felt the fluttering at the same time.

  “Did you feel that?” Trey asked, excitement in his voice, sitting up and raising the covers off of me.

  “Uh, yeah, probably more than you did,” I laughed. Trey was resting his ear on my abdomen now, grinning like a fool. “What do you expect to hear down there?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure,” he replied, “maybe some swishing around or something?”

  I giggled at his absurdity. I knew that Trey was going to make a wonderful father and husband. It was me that I was unsure of at the moment. There was just too much unfinished business with my mother and my messed-up past. She was still out there and she had some explaining to do.

  Epilogue

  North Bay Hospital, May 2nd

  Gina's pacing back and forth in front of my hospital bed. She's holding her phone up to her ear, nervously cracking her chewing gum. She's giving Ian another update on my progress.

  “She’s still at six centimeters, Ian, same as when you called 10 fucking minutes ago,” she says, her irritation undisguised. “Christ how in the hell should I know how long it’ll take her to get fully dilated? How many babies have I squeezed out?”

  Gina turns and looks over at me to see if I'm having another contraction. She is astute at reading my white knuckles, having been by my side for the past two hours. She whirls back around snapping her gum and trying to lower her voice on my account I'm sure.

  “No, he’s not here yet,” she whispers hoarsely into her phone. “His personal assistant is over at the courthouse now trying to get word to him. I don’t know; some big class action lawsuit that’s been going on for days.” She steps closer to the door, “Dig this, a bunch of desperate housewives are suing some publishing house for glorifying sadistic sex in some freaking erotica novels…hell yes I’m for real,” she giggles, “apparently, they decided to try some of the shit they read about and got permanently injured down there. Is that not a hoot?”

  Oh God, I feel another gut-wrenching contraction rising. I will not scream. I will not scream!

  “What do you mean which side is Trey representing? The fucking housewives for Chrissake, Ian! He’s an attorney for class action plaintiffs, duh?”

  She turns back to face me, rolling her eyes. I grip the rails on my hospital bed, bracing for the rolling wave of pain that's thrashing inside of me. I squeeze my eyes shut.

  “Shit, Ian, I got to go, Tylar’s having another contraction.”

  Gina is at my side, instructing me to do the hee-hee-hees in three-beat sequences. The pain of the contraction starts to subside. I'm now being instructed by my “labor Nazi” to take a deep, cleansing breath.

  Shit this hurts!

  “You're doing great, Ty. I really mean it girlfriend!” Gina dabs m
y sweaty forehead with a damp washcloth that she nagged “Nurse Ratched” for earlier. Gina assigned the name to the nurse immediately upon our arrival but I don’t think she is so bad. “More ice chips, Ty?” she asks, reaching for the cup.

  “Yes please, Gina. And by the way, where the hell is Trey?”

  “Don’t worry. His assistant has my number. I told her to call me as soon as she gets the message to him in court. Chill out. That’s an order.” She winks as she scoots out of the room to go and demand more ice chips from Nurse Ratched. I'm glad that at least Gina can be here with me.

  The ordeal with Charlie Roberts and the plea bargain was finalized in January. The evidence had been released back to me. I asked Trey to dispose of the notes and plum silk pajamas. I never wanted to lay eyes on any of it again. I still have the jewelry boxes with the necklace and the pearl drop earrings. I learned that my mother had sent those to Charlie as a down payment of sorts for the dirty work. If the jewelry truly is a link to my biological father, then I'll hold on to it for now.

  I think about my mother and the numbness sinks in as it always does when I reflect upon how little I really knew about her and how well she hid so many secrets from me. Perhaps “secrets” is the wrong word; you could say she raised me in an environment filled with lies and deceit. I've learned over the past several months to stop reprimanding myself for being naïve to it.

  Trey says it's perfectly normal for children to view a parent, no matter how bad or evil the parent is, in the most favorable and acceptable light. That's what I've done for years with her. The truth is my mother did protect me in some ways. It could have been a lot worse.

  There has been no word of her whereabouts. My house in Radcliffe sold in late March. I deposited the proceeds into my savings account. Our new home is under construction. I told Trey we will buy the furnishings for it with the proceeds from the house. The investigator Trey hired has been relieved of his duties for now.

  Gina comes bouncing back into my hospital room carrying a cup of ice chips, beaming as Trey follows in behind her. Trey rushes to my side and leans over my bed rail, his eyes filled with love and concern.

  “I was afraid you wouldn’t get word that I was here,” I choke, tears rolling down my cheeks. I pull him toward me, a feeling of relief floods over me.

  “Sweetie, you know better than that,” he says, stroking my face with his thumbs.

  “Gina,” Trey says, “can I have some alone time with Tylar for just a bit?”

  “Sure thing counselor,” she replies, cracking her gum loudly, “I’ll be down in the cafeteria getting something to eat. Holler if you need me, Ty. She hasn’t done a lot of that yet, Trey.” Gina winks as she breezes out of the room.

  “How’s the pain, Tylar?” Trey asks, lowering the bed rail so that he can sit beside me on the bed. He takes my hand into his, absently rubbing his thumb against my hospital wristband.

  “It’s not that bad,” I lie, “Gina’s been helping me with my breathing.”

  The nurse comes in just then to check my progress. Trey moves outside the curtain she has drawn. Peeling off her rubber gloves, she informs me that I'm nearly seven centimeters dilated. She informs me in her no-nonsense Nurse Ratched manner that I can expect stronger contractions as I enter the transition stage of labor. She slides the curtain back open, taking leave.

  Holy crap! It gets worse than this?

  Trey reads the panicked look on my face. He tries soothing me with reminders as to how much better it is for both mother and baby when no anesthesia is used during labor. I eye him warily as the next contraction starts.

  Trey removes his jacket and tie, tossing them over onto a chair. He rolls his sleeves up to his forearms. He patiently coaches me through the contraction the way we learned in Lamaze class. We've now graduated to the he-he-who pattern of breathing, followed by the cleansing breath.

  Trey watches the monitors that are next to me so that he can gauge an impending contraction. They are definitely coming faster and lasting longer. I sit up in bed, bending over. I feel like someone has kicked me squarely in the back. Trey tells me I'm having back labor.

  You think?

  He retrieves hot towels from the nurse, pressing them up against my lower back. It helps. I grab his hand, squeezing tightly as the next contraction descends. I start moaning with the pain on this one. I promised myself I wouldn’t do that.

  “Tylar, go with it, don’t fight it, you have to do your breathing remember? You’re fighting it baby, I can tell. Relax and breathe, just relax and breathe,” Trey instructs firmly.

  I’d rather scream!

  “Arrggghh!” I groan, clutching his hand in a death grip.

  “It’s winding down now, winding down, there. Take a cleansing breath and get ready for the next one,” he says, watching the contraction’s graph on the monitor. It starts right back up.

  “Trey,” I groan loudly, “get the nurse in here. I want an epidural! This hurts!”

  “Tylar,” he speaks gently but firmly, in what I now regard as his sickening soothing voice. “Remember honey, how we talked about this and decided together that this is how we want our baby to be born? No meds pre-delivery, remember? Now I know you can do this, baby.”

  Shut UP! You'll never touch me again Trey Michael Sinclair!

  I no sooner finish cursing him silently when the next contraction's on top of me. If I didn’t know better, I'd swear the baby has a chainsaw inside and is sawing through my ribcage, one rib at a time!

  “Ahhhhh shit!” I scream.

  I now have my fingers wound around a big hunk of Trey’s hair, tugging at it as I thrash around on the bed. Trey is fearful that I've crossed over into the “loss of control during labor condition,” we learned about in our natural childbirth class. The film our instructor played for the group horrified all of us. I'm now starring in my own version of it. That actress in the clip has nothing on me!

  “Sweet Jesus!” I rasp, grabbing for my ice chips with my free hand, rolling back over on my side as the pain grips me again. I lose control and toss ice chips all over my bed.

  “Tylar, Tylar, come on sweetie,” Trey is massaging my shoulders now. “Remember sweetie the pain of childbirth is a pain soon forgotten, right?”

  I stop thrashing momentarily to turn my head in a 180-degree angle Exorcist-style to look at him. My hand's still clutching his chunk of hair.

  Really Trey? How many babies have you pushed out of a once TINY opening?

  “That’s my girl,” he croons, his fingers now trying to gently disengage mine from out of his hair. “Put on your big girl panties and roll with it, okay?”

  If I'd kept my panties on we wouldn’t be here now!

  “That’s it sweetie, you’re doing just fine. Remember, no pain, no gain, huh?” He finally frees himself of my hand and dabs the cool washcloth against my forehead. My hair is sweaty, I can feel it plastered against my head.

  “Trey,” I gasp my voice now hoarse, “Please no more fucking platitudes, alright? I promise to stop the screaming if you just shut up for now.” He nods at me, seemingly not offended by my request.

  The nurse bustles back in, Gina is right behind her. The nurse hustles Trey away from the bed and raises the sheet to check my progress again, not bothering to pull the curtain.

  “Did I miss anything?” Gina asks.

  “Good news, honey,” my nurse announces, smiling, “you lost your mucous plug.”

  My what? That sounds gross!

  “I’ll be right back to break your water,” she says, disappearing once again. As promised, she returns just after I loudly endure another rib-breaking contraction compliment of “Chucky,” my new name for the baby. She instructs Trey to change into his scrubs. Gina is allowed to stay with me until Trey returns.

  Nurse Ratched holds up what looks like a long crochet hook. I swear I can see an evil glint in her eye as she orders me to lay back and relax with my knees up and spread apart. She dives under the paper sheet tented over me with the hook
in her gloved hand. The next thing I feel is a gush of warm water between my legs.

  “Won’t be long now, honey,” she assures me as she pulls her gloves off and exits the room once again.

  Magically, the pain subsides for the moment. Gina comes to stand next to the bed. She looks overwhelmed.

  “Ty,” she says, lifting my hand, “I just want to tell you something before the Hot Nazi comes back and banishes me outta here. I love you like my sister and I hope you know that. You're going to have a beautiful, healthy baby, you hear me?”

  I nod at her, feeling emotional and very blessed that I have her as my friend. I see that her eyes are welling up.

  “Gina,” I reply, “I love you like my sister, too. This is your godchild, remember?”

  “Yeah,” she laughs, wiping a stray tear with the back of her hand, “even though I hate that name you picked for a girl.”

  “Treyla Michaela?” I ask, astonished.

  She nods, rolling her eyes.

  “That’s a great name,” I say defending my choice. “It’s in Trey’s honor. Boy is named after me; girl is named after Trey.” Trey is still hoping for a boy because of the name I chose for a girl. I don’t care. He is not getting his way on this one. I refuse to budge.

  “It just reminds me of those books I had as a kid; you know the ones about Amelia Bedelia?” Gina smirks, shaking her head.

  Trey returns dressed in his sterile scrubs, complete with cap, booties, and a mask for his face that he hasn’t pulled up yet. It looks as if he has gone from lawyer to intern in just a couple of minutes.

  Gina leans over and gives me a kiss on the cheek, “Good luck, Ty. I’ll be in the waiting room for the good news.” She turns to leave, stopping in front of Trey. “Don’t make me wait forever to find out either, got it,” she says, pointing her finger at him and giving him a stern look. He nods and she disappears out the door.