Sir, Yes Sir

by Dinah McLeod

  “There’s the baby,” I heard Cara breath, her voice soft and reverent.

  I turned my head and saw the monitor fill with the image of a tiny fetus. I gasped at the black and white image and I felt Dean go still beside me. “Wow.” The word slipped out, a tiny declaration of the love that surged throughout me at the sight of my baby.

  “He’s beautiful,” Dean said, and I could hear the tears in his voice.

  “Perfect,” I’d agreed, looking up at him for a moment before turning my attention back to the image of our child. I was in awe as I watched it squirm across the screen. “I think I see a hand.”

  “I count two from here,” Cara joined in with a laugh. “Congratulations, Mrs. Davies. I have to go check in on a patient, but I’ll be back in a little while.”

  As she was walking out, I grabbed her hand to stall her for a moment. “Thank you. And please, call me Shelby.”

  * * * * *

  Dean didn’t leave my side until the time came for him to pick up Morgan from school. By that time, we knew the official diagnosis was preeclampsia and that it was particular rare for me to get at only eleven weeks of pregnancy. The doctor was insisting on bed rest and he wanted me to stay in the hospital for around-the-clock observation.

  I wasn’t happy about it, but he insisted it was best for the health of the baby, which was all Dean needed to hear. After that, any time I tried to offer an alternative suggestion, he silenced me with a warning look.

  When Dean walked back in with Morgan trailing behind, I could see by his flared nostrils and Morgan’s clenched fists that the car ride over had not been much fun for either of them. Sometimes I wondered if their silent war with each other would ever end.

  “Hey, honey. Any changes?”

  “Nope. Still in bed, doing nothing, just like when you left me.” I forced myself to smile, trying to make the best of a situation that was less than ideal. Thank God Dean had gotten a job before this had happened. I was dreading delivering the news to Greg the Grinch, especially since he’d just promoted me. “Hi, Morgan.”

  “Hey,” he mumbled, not even looking at me.

  I looked to Dean for guidance, which only prompted him to scowl at our son. “I don’t know what his problem is today.”

  Before I could respond, Morgan was returning his father’s glare. “Of course you wouldn’t! You don’t know anything about me! But what do you care? In a few short months, Mom’ll give you the son you’ve really always wanted!”

  “Morgan, the only thing I want you to change is your attitude! I—”

  “Hey!” I shouted over the pair of them. I’d never yelled so loud in my life and in other circumstances, I would have felt embarrassed considering the public setting. But I just didn’t care anymore. I had to make them stop. “Both of you, drop it! You’re both acting like children and this has to stop!” With their jaws dropping open, they really did look too much alike. I wasn’t in the mood to be distracted from my anger, so I filed it away to laugh at later.

  “Sorry, Mom,” Morgan muttered.

  “You shouldn’t be sorry, you should be ashamed!” I exclaimed. “You’re almost a grown man, Morgan, it’s time you started acting like one. I’m on bed rest for at least the next month, maybe until the baby’s born. I need to know I can trust the two of you not to kill each other!”

  “We won’t, Mom. I promise.”

  “Could you go wait in the car, Son?” Dean asked in a voice that was much subdued. “I need to talk to your mother.”

  I was still fuming when Morgan walked over and gave me a hug. I melted a little when he pulled a single long-stem, yellow rose out of his hoodie pocket. “Thank you,” I said, touched but trying to still appear stern.

  “I love you, Mom. You’re going to be okay, right?”

  I hesitated for an instant. “I think so. The doctor wants to keep me here to make sure.”

  “Well, get better so you can come home soon. You know Dad doesn’t know how to cook.” He grinned at me before pecking my cheek and walking out the door.

  I was more than a little apprehensive when I met Dean’s eyes. I knew I shouldn’t have yelled at him in front of our son, much less in public. I expected a reprimand, but he only looked sheepish.

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  “I didn’t mean to cause a scene,” I told him.

  “No, you were right.”

  I arched an eyebrow. “Are you saying that because you believe it, or because I’m in the hospital? Because if it’s the latter, then your obsession with Presidential stamps—”

  “Be careful before you take it too far,” he quipped with a gleam in his eye. “No, Honey, I mean it. Morgan and I have got to find a way to make things work, especially with you out of commission for a few days. Don’t worry about us. All I want you worrying about is yourself and our little bun in the oven.”

  I couldn’t help but smile at the tenderness in his voice. “Okay.”

  “Good girl. I’ve got to get going before Morgan strands me here. I’ll be by to see you first thing in the morning, and I’ll come back after work. Is there anything you want me to bring from the house?”

  “Some new clothes would be nice. And maybe some of the books that have been piling up on my nightstand.”

  “Yeah, I guess you’ve got time for them now, don’t you? Better take advantage of it.”

  I tried to smile, but didn’t quite succeed.

  “Hey, don’t worry, baby. It’ll be just like I said. Just a few days, and you’ll be out of here.”

  * * * * *

  Dean

  A few days turned into weeks and Shelby looked thinner and more despondent every time I saw her. I knew she wanted to come home, and the only thing that seemed to help put her mind at ease was assuring her that Morgan and I were fine.

  Which was mostly true. We were eating healthy—sort of—and hadn’t killed each other—yet—so I figured that was the same as “fine." It wasn’t that anything was wrong, exactly. Morgan had more or less reverted back to the boy he’d always been around me: reserved and distant. Maybe another time I wouldn’t have minded, but my wife was in the hospital, possibly for the remainder of her pregnancy. Stress levels were already high and after the day of Laser Tag I’d enjoyed with Morgan, I knew things could be better for us. Going back was not an option.

  “Morgan?” I called out again. I’d been hunting my son for the last ten minutes and I was starting to get annoyed. The apartment was small; there weren’t many places he could hide. Just when I was about to whip out my cell phone and call him, the front door open and he walked inside.

  He nodded at me, oblivious to the fact that I’d been looking for him. “What’s up?”

  “Where have you been?” I asked, my voice sharp.

  “Out.”

  “You never said anything.” As soon as the words were out of my mouth I realized how accusatory they sounded. Why was I always doing that when he was around—finding a reason to be mad? “You know what, it doesn’t matter. I need your help in the storage unit.”

  “Oh, yeah? What are we doing?”

  “Moving some baby stuff into the apartment. Your mom wants it to be ready just in case she doesn’t get here in time to oversee it.” I could see that he’d stiffened at the word baby but he just nodded and followed me out the door. We didn’t speak again until we got to our storage unit. Even then it was just me giving directions.

  Finally, we’d made our way around miscellaneous boxes and furniture that couldn’t fit in the apartment. When I spotted the boxes that were labeled “Morgan” and “Baby M” I knew that we’d found what we were after. Shelby was a sentimental one—overly so, I thought at times—and I didn’t doubt she’d kept every bib or trinket we’d ever gotten. To my surprise, there were fewer boxes than I’d expected.

  “Have at it,” I said, gesturing. “Let’s open these up and see what we’ve got.”

  “What is this stuff?” Morgan asked, hanging back after he’d read the first box.

>   “Stuff your mom kept from when you were little.”

  Morgan nodded, but made no move to open the box. I turned toward my own and slipping an Army issue Gerber knife out of my back pocket, I easily sliced through the tape and had the box open in no time. I handed it over to Morgan and he took it without a word. I began rifling through the box, finding an assortment of baby toys and board books.

  “Ew, gross!” I turned to see Morgan holding up a white, lacy gown with his thumb and forefinger, holding it as far away from him as he could get it. “Let’s throw this out, Dad.”

  “Do, and your mom will cheerfully murder you in your sleep,” I said mildly.

  “What is this old thing anyway?”

  “It’s your Christening gown. Your mother is never going to throw it away, so get that idea out of your head.”

  “Why would you bother keeping something like that? And why did you put me in a dress?”

  “It’s not a dress, Son. It’s a Christening gown. That’s just how they looked when you were a baby. Now they have little white suits.”

  “Dude doesn’t know how lucky he is,” Morgan said as he dropped the gown back in the box.

  “You don’t even remember it!” I chided with a laugh. “Come to think of it, I’m pretty sure we have pictures around somewhere.”

  “Yeah, sure, Dad.”

  “You know,” I said, choosing to ignore his sarcastic tone, “if you think that’s bad you should see the monstrosity your grandmother thought was so cute. She still has it.”

  Morgan chuckled but didn’t say anything else, so I went back to my box. I pulled out the things I thought she might want, like baby bottles and a few books and went on to the next box. I hit pay dirt on the second one. I’d found the clothes and I knew she’d want to go through them. We didn’t know what we were having yet, but I was sure she’d want to go through it anyway, if not just to have something to do to pass the time.

  I set all the clothes in a pile, along with the bottles, and spotted something I hadn’t noticed before. It was dingy and worn, but I’d know that brown bear face anyway. “Look what we’ve got here.”

  Morgan turned toward me, eyeing the stuffed bear in my hand warily. “Dad, please don’t inflict that thing on my baby brother or sister.”

  “That ‘thing’ was your favorite toy in the world. You couldn’t get to sleep without it.”

  “Really?” he asked dubiously.

  “Really. See how worn the right paw is? You used to suck on it to get to sleep.”

  With a snort, he shook his head. “Geez. That thing is a disaster.”

  “It’s kind of old, but even before that, you put it through the wringer. You had to have it or you wouldn’t go to sleep. Man, I remember once we were sure we’d lost it and you were practically crying yourself sick. We had to find a replacement, so I went to about six toy stores to find one just like it.”

  “You did that?”

  “Don’t sound so surprised,” I said mildly. “Besides, there was no way we were going to take you out. You were screaming your head off.”

  Morgan nodded and turned away, bowing his head and looking back into his box. “Babies, I guess.”

  “Yeah. And wouldn’t you know it, I got it home and you knew the difference. I don’t know how you knew, you just did.”

  “So what’d you do?”

  “We didn’t sleep for two days until we found it behind the dryer. It was a long weekend, I’ll tell you that.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice. “You know, you’re going to make a great big brother.”

  “You think so?” he asked neutrally.

  “Absolutely. And I’m glad that I can call you and have you in my corner to fix things I mess up.”

  He choked out a laugh. “Oh, yeah, like what?”

  “Oh, I don’t know, like when I forget the birthday candles for the cake or the date of the T-ball game. Then I know at least he’ll have you.” He didn’t reply, but I could see from the way his ears were perked up that he was listening. “Morgan, I know I wasn’t the perfect father, and I’m sorry, Son. I missed a lot. Please don’t think I don’t regret it, because I do. If I could get a do-over, I’d take it.”

  “It’s okay, Dad.”

  “No, Son. It’s not okay, and I hope I’ll have learned something from the last seventeen years with you, but I know there are going to be times I screw up. I’m just too good at it to give it up.” That earned me a chuckle and I plunged ahead. I wasn’t a touchy-feely man by nature, but the time to talk to Morgan this way was long overdue. He’d be at college soon. “And don’t you think for a second that you were a trial-run or anything like that. You’re the best son a man could ask for and I’m just sorry that I don’t tell you enough. I’m sorry I forget it sometimes myself. This kid has a lot to live up to.”

  “Aw, come on, Dad. Don’t do that again. Just love him for who he is—not who you think he should be.”

  I paused to think about what he said. Is that what he’d thought all these years? That I didn’t love him? That I wished he’d been someone else? Hadn’t it, at least in part, been true? I felt a wave of guilt and shame wash over me and I took a good, long look at the boy-man that was my child. He was a good-looking man, and he had a good head on his shoulders. We didn’t always see eye-to-eye and I didn’t think we ever would. But maybe between the two of us, this new baby would have a fighting chance at a happy childhood. That’s all I could ask for.

  “You’re right,” I said at last, clapping him on the shoulder.

  Morgan’s face was solemn as he pushed a lock of hair out of his gray eyes. “Dude, that’s what I’ve been tryin’ to tell ya!”

  Chapter 8

  Three months Later

  Shelby

  “I bet you’re excited to go home,” Cara said as she folded one of my nightgowns.

  “God, yes,” I said with a sigh. I was so tired of sitting and doing nothing that I’d begun to wonder on an almost daily basis if I was losing my mind. I was so relieved when the doctor told me that I could home—even though it was just to go sit and do more of nothing, at least I’d be at home.

  “If you need anything, you know you can call me.”

  I smiled warmly at my new friend. She really was such a sweetheart, and by far my favorite nurse. “Thanks, Cara. I will.”

  “Hey, honey. Hello, Cara.”

  I turned, beaming at my husband as he walked into the room. “Am I ever glad to see you.”

  “It’s the haircut, isn’t it?”

  I rolled my eyes even as Cara giggled. “That must be it.”

  “You almost ready to go?”

  “Almost. We just have to wait for the ultrasound tech. She should be here in a minute, the doctor just wants a final check.” I bit down on my lip when I finished explaining.

  Dean walked closer and leaned toward me. “Nervous?” he asked softly.

  “A little,” I admitted.

  “Shannon should be here soon,” Cara said, depositing the nightgown in my open suitcase. “I’m going to go see where you are on the list.”

  Once she’d left I became acutely aware of the butterflies in my stomach. I was so worried that they’d find something on the ultrasound to keep me here. If that happened, I was sure I’d start wailing like a banshee and embarrass all of us. I couldn’t help it—my butt was so sore I was sure it would never wake up. I’d read every magazine in the waiting room twice, plus all the books Dean had brought. Morgan always brought crosswords when he came to visit, but I only did them with him. When he left, they went to the bedside table, waiting for his return. There was only so much free time a woman could have before she started to lose her marbles; I was convinced my time was close at hand.

  “I just wish she’d get here,” I muttered to Dean. “At least then we’d know. If I can’t go back home—”

  “Be patient, Shels. Worrying won’t change the outcome.”

  I rolled my eyes at him, but my i
rritation was short-lived. I was glad that he was so supportive and calm. He and Morgan had seemed to turn a corner in their relationship, too, and I no longer dreaded being in the same room with the both of them. It seemed that living alone together had done a world of good for their relationship, allowing them to bond at long last. I wanted nothing more than to be back at home with both of them.

  “But what if—”

  “Shh, honey.”

  I was about to grumble at him when the door swung back open and Shannon wheeled in the ultrasound machine. I grinned at her in greeting, hoping my nervousness didn’t show.

  “Hi there, Mrs. Davies. Are you ready to take a peek at your little jellybean? Then hopefully we’ll get you out of here.”

  “Hopefully,” I echoed, feeling some of the fear leave to make room for the excitement at seeing my baby. I had only had one more ultrasound since the first, but I was convinced that even if they did it every day it wouldn’t ever get old.

  I heard the heartbeat come in first, beating strong. It made my eyes well up with tears to hear it—the perfect, steady beat that meant my baby was doing well. I was already so excited to meet him.

  “There he is!” Shannon exclaimed. “Aw, look how big he’s gotten!”

  I nodded, the tears sliding down my cheeks as I took in the fetus on the monitor. He was sucking his little thumb and the sight made me smile. Morgan used to suck his thumb, too.

  “Have you bought a lot of blue, Mr. Davies?” Shannon asked off-hand as she studied the sonogram.

  “No, just pulled out some old things of our son’s.”

  “Well, that’s good news. Because you’re having a girl.”

  Dean was the first to speak—although it was more of a spluttering exclamation. It was better than I did, which was to be rendered so speechless that I was sure I’d swallowed my tongue sometime in the last two minutes.

  “What?” he gasped.

  “Are you sure?” I chimed in, my voice breathy.

  Shannon laughed at the pair of us. “Yes, I’m sure. I hope that’s not a problem.”

  “A problem?” I echoed in wonderment.