Dominick's Secret Baby

by Iris Parker

  Each other.

  Helena

  The clock ticked on, and eventually even the TV stopped giving clues about what had happened. Slowly, the three of us began piecing together the events of the day.

  "But why was your daughter with Dominick in the first place?" Soreya Henderson, Dominick's grandmother, finally asked. It was a question I'd been anticipating since I first spoke to them, and one I still didn't quite know how to answer. Dominick clearly hadn't kept them in the loop about much, and so I needed to tread very carefully.

  Clearly they'd already figured out that there was some kind of relationship between us, but I didn't want them to find out about Ali—not like this, at least. Learning about your eleven-year-old granddaughter, or great granddaughter, from a complete stranger in a hospital waiting room just didn't seem right. Ideally, Dominick would be able to share the news himself tonight or tomorrow, turning a bewildering shock into cause for celebration.

  I prayed that it would turn out exactly like that.

  "He was taking her to Provincetown, a trip to the beach," I explained.

  A nurse walked in and we all held our breaths—all except for Soreya, who started quietly reciting a psalm to herself.

  "He's out of surgery," the nurse said. "But you won't be able to see him tonight. He's in an induced coma due to the swelling, and will be so for some time. But you'll be able to speak with the surgeon soon."

  The words made me want to crumble and die.

  "Ms. Bramford?" the nurse asked, turning to look at me. "I do have some good news for you, at least. You can see Ali now, she's ready and has been asking for her mommy."

  "Ooh," I cried out in relief, feeling one of the two huge weights lift from my chest. I was still worried sick about Dominick, but I couldn't wait to see my little girl again—even though she'd only gotten scratched up, it had taken all my willpower to not try tearing down the walls of the hospital to find her before the doctors were done with her.

  Looking at Jane and Soreya with tears in my eyes, they nodded at me to go. With a weak smile, I brought their hands to my lips and gave them what I hoped was a reassuring kiss. "Please hang on tight, for Dominick's sake. He's a fighter, and I'm sure all five of us will get through this okay," I said, projecting a confidence that I wished I felt more strongly.

  The nurse turned to leave and I followed quickly behind, eager to see Ali.

  "She was very lucky, you know," the nurse commented.

  "That's what one of your colleagues said earlier."

  "Thank goodness she was wearing a helmet, and the leather," the nurse said as we stalked down the hall. "It protected her from the worst of it, when she took her tumble."

  "Do you know what happened, exactly?"

  "Not really. She's still quite shocked, and very scared. She's barely said anything to us, only that she wanted to speak with her father. What she really needs is rest, so we didn't push," she said, pausing at the door. "But you're probably not going to get that luxury, you know."

  "What do you mean?" I asked. "I know less about this than anyone here…."

  "That's not going to matter once the media gets its claws into you," the nurse said sadly. "You saw the reporters in the parking lot when you came in?"

  "Yes," I said, frowning. "At least a dozen of them, maybe more. I wasn't really paying attention."

  "A dozen was about right," the nurse began. "Before the story got picked up by the major networks. It's only gotten worse since then. The hospital is practically on lockdown because of the number of them, it's crazy. My shift is ending soon, and I wanted to be sure someone warned you. I know it's none of my business, but Ali is…recognizable. Before you take her home, you really should ask someone to show you how to get to the staff parking lot. You can pick her up there."

  "Thanks," I said, feeling more bewildered than ever. Unable to process the new bad news, I focused on the good. "This is Ali's room?" I asked.

  "Yes," the nurse said with a smile, opening the door.

  Inside was an elevated hospital bed, with Ali's small frame on top of the crisp white sheets. All other thoughts gone, I rushed forward with tears flowing down my face.

  "My baby!" shouted, not caring how loud I was.

  "Mom!" Ali answered, breaking into tears of her own when she saw me. I reached down and gave her as gentle a hug as I could, but the pain in her eyes made me afraid of doing more.

  I wanted to smother her with love and kisses, to hold her tight until I was sure she'd never leave again. But I couldn't do any of that for fear of hurting her, unsure where she was hurting exactly. Deciding to let her do the hugging, I put my forehead against hers and reassured her that everything was going to be okay.

  "I'm sorry, mom," Ali whispered as she nestled against me, and her whimpering quickly broke into open sobbing. "So, so, so sorry!"

  "Shh, it's okay, honey. You've been through a lot, but you're safe. You just need some rest," I coddled her, rocking her frail body in my arms.

  "But what about Dominick? They won't tell me anything! I hate them," Ali wailed, and it was all I could do to kiss her nose and gently stroke her hair.

  "We don't know much," I admitted. "But the good news is that he made it out of surgery in one piece. They have him…sedated," I said carefully.

  Ali grew silent, pulling back a little and looking at me with wide eyes.

  "We were actually hoping that you could tell us—" I began, but was interrupted when the door behind me swung open once more. An older gentleman with a clipboard and laptop entered, smiling at both of us.

  "Alicia Bramford?" he asked.

  "That's us. I'm her mother, Helena."

  "So you're…huh," he said very quietly, then quickly shook his head. When he spoke again, he was all professional.

  "Alicia is a very lucky girl," the doctor began. "She tumbled off a speeding motorcycle, but the damage is minimal thanks to the padded leather and the helmet. Lots of bruising, but besides an extensive burn to her feet she's just fine."

  "Her feet?" I asked, looking down at her legs and noticing the bandages there. "What happened to her feet?"

  "Whatever she was wearing there just wasn't very protective," the doctor remarked. "They'll take some time to heal, but like I said, she is very lucky. That would've happened to the rest of her body, too, if she'd only been wearing a dress or something like that."

  I looked back at Ali, surprised. The boots that Dominick had bought for her had seemed ridiculously heavy and impractical at the time, running up far past her ankles. It'd only been my trust for Dominick and his expertise that'd stopped me from complaining about them, reasoning that he wouldn't have dressed her in boots like that without good reason.

  And apparently, they hadn't been big enough.

  It showed what I knew about motorcycles.

  "Like I said, she's very lucky," the doctor repeated. "She just needs rest and some time to heal. I'll have a nurse show you how to care for the wounds and keep the bandages clean. If her luck holds out a little longer, she might even make it to the first day of school on those feet without issue."

  "Thank you so much," I said, breathing deeper and more calmly than I had since before hearing the horrible news. "You're sure she is okay?"

  "Absolutely. We did extensive tests and she passed with flying colors. No broken bones, no internal injuries, no sign of neurological damage or anything else. It is, if you'll pardon the expression, merely a flesh wound.

  "Thank you," I said again, feeling almost peaceful. But the news wasn't all good, I knew, and summoning what courage I had I closed my eyes and asked the question I was dreading. "And Dominick? The man she came in with?"

  "Henderson," the doctor said quietly, nodding. "Yes. I can't really say anything about another patient, I'm sorry."

  "His mother and grandmother were telling me everything, back in the waiting room," I argued. "I'm sure they would agree."

  "Did they sign anything saying that?"

  "No," I admitted, frowning.

/>   "Then I could lose my license if I said anything," the doctor explained apologetically. "Especially about someone so high profile. The higher-ups here have been very careful tonight to remind us about the dangers of leaking."

  "I need to know," I said, sounding pitiful even to myself. For Ali's sake, I needed to remain strong, and that was the only thing that kept me from bursting back into tears.

  The doctor nodded slowly, sucking his lip as he thought. Finally, he nodded.

  "I actually have season tickets for the Bruins, you know," he said suddenly. "But I'm thinking of canceling them. I don't think it's going to be a very good season for them."

  I froze, my blood feeling ice cold in my veins.

  "That's…" I began slowly, reeling from the ambiguous news.

  "All I can say," the doctor finished for me.

  Worse than not knowing anything at all, I silently finished.

  "All?" I actually said, biting back the harsh words. "That could mean anything. There must be something useful you can tell me."

  "Maybe they'll recover and do better next year," he said carefully. "And maybe they won't. I'm sorry, but I really just don't know any more than that."

  Helena

  Ali seemed inconsolable as we got ready for her to be discharged from the hospital, and I feared that I wasn't handling the situation much better than she was. I knew that I needed to be strong for her sake, but the news about Dominick's condition made me feel like the end of the world had to be near.

  And in a way, I worried that it really was. The end of our world, at least. Dominick's daily visits, his smile, his obvious love for Ali—all of that was in danger now, and I was powerless to do anything about it. I could barely process the reality that he wasn't doing well, and the thought that he could be in pain made me feel sick to my stomach. I just wanted to crumble to my knees, crying until he came to scoop me up in his arms and tell me that everything was going to be all right.

  But of course, that wasn't possible. Even if it had been, I still wouldn't have been able to do it. I couldn't wait around for Dominick to reassure me, not when Ali needed me to do exactly the same thing for her. One look at my daughter told me that she was suffering just as much as anyone, between the paleness of her skin and the grey circles around her eyes. I took a deep breath and pulled myself together, reassured by the fact that I was doing the right thing—it was what Dominick would've done in the same situation, I had no doubt about it.

  He'd be strong, and not fall into a pathetic mess of despair and hopelessness.

  Holding Ali's hand as they transferred her to the wheelchair, I gave her a smile and was heartened when her cheeks turned just the slightest bit upwards. She was obviously exhausted and upset, but it looked like she was starting to open up again already.

  Signing all the paperwork, I was eager to get Ali back home and begin nursing her back to health. I hoped that she would again be her usual bubbly self. Physically, she would be whole again soon, but emotionally it was a different story. She'd had a close call and needed time to process that, and it was obvious that she was just as worried about Dominick as I was.

  He was her dad, after all.

  Before we could leave, though, there was still one thing left to take care of. I asked the nurse to keep an eye on Ali for a moment, then went to track down Soreya and Jane to see if they'd heard anything new. They were still in the waiting room, and welcomed me with open arms and asking about Ali's wellbeing. I answered their questions, feeling a little stab of guilt that I hadn't brought her directly. But of course there was no way that the two women wouldn't have recognized their own son's eyes the moment they saw Ali, raising an endless amount of confusion to an already confusing time.

  And Dominick would be able to explain everything to them very soon. I needed to believe that he was going to be fine, and if I started taking over for him—dealing with his family without waiting for him—then maybe it meant he wasn't going to be okay.

  And I wasn't ready to have that thought.

  After that, the two older women caught me up on Dominick's situation. He was as stable as it got under the circumstances, it seemed. They still weren't letting him accept visitors, but the two women were determined to stay until they could see him in the ICU no matter how long it took. Both of them looked anxious and ashen, and it was clear that Dominick meant every bit as much to them as he and Ali meant to me.

  "Do—do you think you could call me when you can see him? Or when you find out anything new?" I asked, my throat dry. It felt like I was somehow betraying Dominick by leaving the hospital, and I hated the idea that his family might think I just didn't care that much.

  Soreya looked at Jane, who immediately nodded. "Of course we'll let you know," Jane said, and I felt immense relief. If circumstances were just a little different, I'd have spent the entire night anxiously waiting with them. But of course there was no way I could do that. I couldn't leave Ali at a time like this any more than Dom's own mom could've left him.

  So instead, I gave them my phone number, speaking through the lump in my throat and trying to stay positive.

  Or at least trying to not burst into tears.

  It worked, just barely.

  And then it was their turn to ask something from me.

  "Helena, before you go," Jane said slowly, staring at my belly. "The baby, is it…" she trailed off. She didn't need to finish. I already knew what she was asking. They'd probably been wondering about it from the moment I spoke to them, and I felt stupid and cruel for not saying sooner. Flashbacks of my earlier reluctance with Dominick haunted me, all that guilt coming back in an instant.

  Dominick should've been the one to tell them.

  But Dominick hadn't told them, either about the Ali or the baby. There must've been a reason, but I couldn't ask what it was. But regardless of that reason, the baby was certainly easier to explain than Ali. And I was sure that Dominick would've approved of me telling them, giving them something to think about other than the hell of waiting for more news about him.

  And, perhaps more importantly, they were family now. I took a deep breath and, hoping I had made the right decision, gave them my answer.

  "Yes. Your grandson," I said simply, unsure of how much detail to add.

  A split second later, Soreya and Jane both had rushed up to their feet and were hugging me. Soreya looked happy but there was no hiding her shock, while Jane wasted no time before asking permission to touch my belly.

  "He should have said something!" Soreya said quietly, shaking her head as she wiped tears from her eyes. "He should have told us."

  "It's kind of a long story," I said automatically, then continued. "But don't be too hard on him. I'm sure he was going to tell you soon. The past few months have been crazy for both of us."

  Soreya didn't say anything while Jane beamed unambiguous happiness, her smile as bright as Dominick's had been after he'd gotten over the shock.

  "I wish I could stay longer," I said sincerely. "But I really need to be with Ali right now. Please, don't forget to let me know as soon as you hear anything."

  The two women nodded, and I reluctantly turned to leave. At least, I was satisfied they had my back and would contact me as soon as they had news.

  I just prayed it would be good news.

  Helena

  "Mom?" Ali asked, her voice slow and uncharacteristically timid.

  "Yes, sweetie?"

  "Today, it…uh…I mean, it all was…it…" Ali answered, tripping over her words as she tried to speak. I gently placed my palm on her shoulder, a spot I knew wasn't hurt, providing solid contact to reassure her. I gave her a smile and a nod, silently telling her it was okay to continue.

  And she did.

  "It was all my fault," she finally said, the words leaving her mouth suddenly and quickly.

  I'd been wondering on the drive back if something like this would come up. It wasn't surprising. After all, even an adult might feel guilty after surviving a bad crash almost unscathed—an
d Ali was still young enough to feel like everything in the world was either for her, or because of her.

  I'd been hoping to distract her from the horror of what happened, and we'd spent much of the night sitting on Ali's bed as I read to her. We'd gone through a whole young adult novel, a damn good story about mermaids and heartbreak. It had helped us settle back into normalcy a bit, but no book was going to make her completely forget the events of the day.

  "I'm sure it wasn't your fault, Hon. Accidents happen all the time, and we don't know they're going to happen before they do. That's why they're accidents. We can't control them," I said, wishing that I knew more about the accident in question. Ali had been understandably reluctant to share details before now, and I wasn't going to traumatize her by pushing.

  "You're wrong," Ali said as she wrung her hands nervously. "The accident was all my fault."

  I wanted to chalk her fears up to preteen exaggeration, to reassure her again and make everything right. But something about her voice, the haggard look in her eyes, the way she was slumping a little in bed. It all added up, and I wondered if maybe the situation wasn't as simple as I'd been hoping.

  "What do you mean?" I asked finally, not sure of what else to say.

  "It was me. All me. My fault," Ali said as she burst into tears. While she'd mostly been speaking slowly and quietly before, now her voice was an explosion of high-pitched and rapid words that I could barely follow. "I didn't listen to him. He told me to put on the boots but I didn't want to put on the boots! I wanted the pretty heels and so I argued and pouted and stuck my tongue out and said horrible things and—"

  "It's okay," I said, pulling Ali closer to me and giving her a hug before she hyperventilated. "It's going to be okay. No matter what you said, you're still his daughter and I'm sure he still loves you."

  I could feel Ali trembling under my arms, still crying as she breathed in ragged gasps. I ran my fingers through her hair as gently as I could, wishing I could magically make everything okay again.