Inside Out

by Grayson Cole

  “I’m the baby’s father,” he announced. “I’m coming into the delivery room.”

  The nurse looked to Tracey and she nodded her sweating brow.

  * * *

  After violent pain, heavy drugs, a natural birth that Tracey was completely unprepared for, and Garrett acting as Dr. Singh’s enforcer, there was her little Nathalie in her arms. Right away, Tracey could tell the baby had Garrett’s beautiful light hazel eyes. She also had a full head of sandy, nearly blonde hair. It was thick and curled softly. Her skin was almost the same as Garrett’s, with his bronze tan, but kissed a little longer by the sun. She was perfectly beautiful. Beautiful. Tracey wept silently as she counted Nathalie’s little fingers and toes and marveled that anything could be so tiny and so wonderful. Garrett crowded at the head of the bed with Tracey and cried openly, too.

  The nurse came forward to take the baby.

  “Mama needs to get some rest now,” she told Tracey.

  Tracey was a mama.

  A mama! She reached for her baby even as she was being lifted from her arms.

  “I’ll bring her back when it’s time for feeding,” the nurse reassured her.

  Tracey didn’t know why she couldn’t just keep Nathalie in the room with her. She was tempted to ask her father to make them bring her back, but she checked the impulse. She was a mother. She had to stop the urges to have her father fix everything for her.

  * * *

  The next day, Tracey woke to see Angie standing over her looking a little flushed. It was the first indication that something serious was going on. She leaned over, kissed Tracey on the forehead, and sat down in the chair beside the bed. She held Tracey’s hand. Tracey looked around the room and there was her mother sitting in another chair, also wearing a strange look.

  “Where’s Garrett?”

  “Down in the nursery with the baby,” she answered. Then in hushed tones, “Tracey, there’s someone here to see you.”

  “Do I look bad?”

  Angie winced.

  “That good, huh?”

  Tracey looked over at her mother. “I’ll help you. Angie, give us a minute.”

  Angie nodded and stepped out.

  As her mother wiped her face and combed her hair, Tracey opted to question her about the visitor instead of arguing that she wasn’t an invalid. However, Carolyn offered no information. All she did was smile tightly. When done, she planted herself on the windowsill with her arms crossed. Angie returned with a man Tracey had never seen before.

  He was a tall white man with hair that had maybe once been dark red, but had faded to a brassy color. He was a thick fellow with what looked like a permanent smile in his familiar hazel eyes. He wore a short-sleeved mustard golf shirt and khaki shorts with a woven leather belt. He was very handsome, very fit, and looked to be around fifty years old. He wore a plain gold band on his left ring finger. In his hands was a bouquet of fresh-cut white daisies that were so pristine they didn’t even look real. Tentatively, he moved towards her, then seemed to think better of it. Instead, he turned and placed the flowers on a table and turned back, tucking his hands in his pockets. Tracey swallowed, thinking she knew exactly who he was.

  “Hello,” Garrett’s father finally said, his voice sounding very much like his son’s.

  “Hello,” Tracey replied clumsily, trying to sit up. The pain in the entire lower half of her body was not about to let her do it gracefully. Her mother and Angie both rushed to her side.

  “Oh, no, you don’t have to sit up on my account. I know what it’s like. Both Rett and Angie were big babies. And back in those days, they just kicked everybody out of the room and strapped you down. My wife was not happy with that at all.” He gave an awkward but familiar smile, then gestured toward the flowers. “I brought these for you. I hope you like them. I didn’t think…I didn’t know what kind you liked.”

  “They’re beautiful.”

  “Well,” he breathed and looked around, everywhere but at Tracey. “You know who I am?”

  “Yes, Mr. Atkins.”

  “Big,” he corrected. “You know, he didn’t tell us until, well, until a few weeks ago. He also told me about your difficulties otherwise…” His voice faltered and he squinted a little. She remained silent. “Rett’s mother couldn’t be here. I know she’s sorry about that.” This man, with his warm, encouraging smiles and Southern gentleman’s accent, could not make the lie believable. And Tracey, even though she knew he wanted her to, could not help him. She couldn’t make this meeting easy for him, because it wasn’t easy for her. “Well, I guess you’re wondering why I’m here.”

  She made herself speak. “No, you have every right to be here. You’re Nathalie’s grandfather.” The relief she saw in his eyes made him look decades younger. He really was a handsome man. Angie looked just like him, but Garrett shared only his coloring and smile. “Have you seen her yet?”

  He grinned big just like Tracey did whenever she thought of her beautiful baby. Her heart grew with every thought of Nathalie, and this man who had very nearly missed out on being a part of her life seemed to feel the same. “Yes. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? I never would have thought—” Big cut off his words with a hand to his mouth.

  “Listen,” Tracey said, tired of this dancing around. “The more we walk on eggshells the more uncomfortable it’s going to be. Say what you feel.” Some of the tension went out of the room.

  “I just want you to know,” he began, “I’ve always wanted grandchildren, and I love my grandbaby. I do, she’s my first. When Rett told us, it was hard to imagine. I have to be honest and say I wasn’t… well…he had another girlfriend, y’know. And I had always thought… I’m really putting my foot in it now, aren’t I?”

  “No.” She managed to smile at him. “I understand. I know about Kim. I also know what kind of shock this must have been for you because I know what my own parents’ reaction was.”

  He scratched his chin. “You do intend to allow us to see her, don’t you? All of us already love the heck out of her. You wouldn’t—”

  Tracey cut him short, realizing his discomfort because she was growing hot with her own. Back on eggshells. Everyone thought she was heartless, and Tracey guessed she had been. “Garrett can see her. He signed the birth certificate, even. At first I thought it was best for everyone if he didn’t know. But now that he does…”

  “I see,” Big responded. “I think I can tell you that when I found out, at first I did wish that you had gotten away with keeping it from him. I agreed wholeheartedly with your decision to hide this from him. I told Rett as much.”

  “Really?” Tracey tried to keep the anger beneath her ribs. “And what did he say?”

  “Something best not repeated. I only felt that way because I knew there would be some…tension in the house for a while. But I adjusted. Angie’s told me a lot about you.” His voice cracked with the slightest indication of pain. “Well, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to run. It was good meeting you, finally. I hope we can get to know each other better.”

  Tracey wanted to believe him, and when he came over to hug her quickly, she did believe him. Angie walked him out. Tracey exhaled finally.

  “What did he say to you?” That was Garrett’s voice. His face was creased with concern.

  “Nothing, Garrett.”

  “Because if he said something to upset you, especially at a time like this, I think I’ll—”

  “What did he say to you?” That was Auntie Colleen coming in with her hands on her hips.

  “What did he say to you, Tracey?” That was her father storming in with Monica in his wake.

  “It’s good to know you’re all so concerned,” Tracey offered dryly. “He didn’t say anything upsetting. Just ask Mama. He wanted to know if he could see the baby. If Garrett could see the baby.”

  “And what did you tell him?” Garrett asked.

  “I told him that was fine. That we’d work out visitation and everything. What’s wrong with all of you? If you were s
o worried he was going to come in and do something to me, then why on earth did you let him in here at all?”

  “That wasn’t my idea,” Carolyn said.

  “I didn’t know he was coming, Tracey,” Garrett answered, middle finger and thumb massaging his temples.

  “Well, all of you can stop looking like I’ve just been held hostage. We talked, he was pleasant, everything’s fine.”

  Rett and her father both seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

  Then her parents took off. They told her that they were going home to get the room prepared for her and the baby and that they would be back to get Tracey. She and her healthy baby were being released. Tracey’s aunts and Moni left shortly after. As soon as they were out the door Angie turned to her.

  “Did Rett tell you what happened when we told them?”

  Garrett was silent but didn’t make a move to stop her.

  She began to walk around the room, seeming to gather her thoughts. “Well,” Angie began, “Rett asked me to do it with him, I guess for support.”

  Tracey looked over at him and he crossed his arms over his chest.

  “He told them that he had gotten someone pregnant. My mother was okay at first and then, ah, she demanded that my father get out his checkbook.”

  Tracey’s reaction had to be written on her face because Angie said, “Save your shock, Tracey. You’re going to need it for later. Well, Rett told them right away that the baby was almost born anyway. My mother asked Rett how long he’d known. He told her and explained that you had planned to raise the baby by yourself because you didn’t want to burden him with it.”

  “That was kind,” Tracey muttered, turning to stare out the window that didn’t show her anything but clear blue sky.

  “Well, my mom wanted to know if he’d told Kim, if they were still together. He told her that they had broken up a long time ago. That’s a whole different story right there. Whatever.”

  Garrett shrugged.

  “But what’s more important, I guess, is the way the rest of the conversation went. Well, Garrett told them, you know, about you.” She gulped. “Or, rather, I did.

  “My mother didn’t take it so well. That’s where the check came in, and she…uh…said some things. She’s not as open as the rest of us, so to speak. She said some things and told Garrett Nathaniel Hinson Atkins to take the check and get rid of you.”

  Tracey breathed slowly. Mary Margaret Hinson Atkins didn’t want her lily-white son having a baby with a black woman. Though she had expected that kind of reaction from people, she didn’t expect it to come from so close to home, nor did she expect it to hurt so badly, although Tracey’s hurt was more for Garrett than herself. He loved his mother.

  Angie cleared her throat and went on, “Dad refused to write the check and Rett would have refused to take it if he had. Rett told him that he was going to be a…a…” Tracey saw the tears but barely believed they were coming from one of the strongest women she knew. Angie sank into the chair against the wall with her head in her hands and her hair covering her reddened face.

  “I told him,” Garrett continued for her, a stoic expression on his face, “that I was going to be a father. Momma went on about no son of hers, and I guess I am no longer a son of hers. But my daddy has, obviously, accepted things as they are.”

  “What do you mean ‘no son of hers’?” Tracey asked.

  “She wanted me to choose, and I did. That’s that.”

  Tracey glanced over at Angie, who sat silently, a guarded look on her face. She glanced back at Garrett, whose lips were pressed together and whose stance was rigid. She scooted over in the bed a little and patted the seat next to her. He looked a little perplexed then, as if he wouldn’t sit beside her. But, finally, he did. She leaned up and hugged him close to her. Tracey felt him shudder as he pulled her tight. She stroked his hair as the sob broke free. Angie slipped out of the room, a hand covering her face. He whispered something to Tracey about never having cried until he met her. She squeezed him and couldn’t stop crying, either, even when she heard him say, “You didn’t tell me, Tracey. I wish to God you would have told me.”

  After everything they had gone through, Garrett had remained unbroken, unshaken, and now the weight of the world which he had so superbly balanced was too much. Tracey didn’t grieve for herself then. She had done enough of that.

  There was a tap at the door, and she wiped his tears with her hands.

  Chapter 29

  After Tracey and Baby Nathalie came home from the hospital, her mother insisted she stay in her old room for the first couple of weeks with the baby. She’d been foolish a time or two, but she made the wise choice this time and snapped up all the help and coddling she could get. Her parents were great; her friends were great; even Garrett was great. Still visibly uncomfortable in the presence of her parents, the new, doting father braved it anyway. He also braved the tension between them to be there for his daughter who looked more and more like him every day.

  Six weeks later, Tracey moved back out into the guesthouse. True enough, she still lived at her parents’ but she felt more independent. She sorely needed to feel independent, capable, not at all foolish. How could she expect herself to raise a daughter, to have her daughter depend on her, if she was always depending on others?

  Garrett came more frequently then, if that was at all possible. Nearly every day, for hours on end when he wasn’t working, he watched the baby while Tracey caught up on sleep. The situation was tense and awkward, but he didn’t care. As long as his baby was there, he told her once, he was going to be there. And he was so good with her. From the start, even her aunts commented on how well he fared with little Nathalie. They never said he seemed more naturally inclined to child care than Tracey, but she knew for sure it was implied. Tracey actually didn’t mind. In fact, she was ecstatic that Nathalie had a father who loved her and cared for her. Whether he loved and cared for her mother was another story altogether.

  He still barely looked at her. He talked to her when he had to and with a civil tongue. Even after what they had shared in the hospital, his tone lacked warmth. He avoided her touch, even when she gave him something for the baby or took her from him. Lepers probably had it better than Tracey did.

  One afternoon after Nathalie turned ten weeks old, Tracey sat in the kitchen while Angie washed her clothes in the small-sized washer and dryer unit. She didn’t say why she needed to wash at Tracey’s place and it didn’t occur to Tracey to ask. That’s how close they had grown. Both she and Moni had started to feel like sisters to her; Moni, the older, wiser guide and Angie, the younger, louder rebel. Only Angie had begun to spend more and more time with Tracey at the house, much like her brother.

  She was grateful Angie came by so frequently. She liked the company, the help with the baby, and the distraction from the dark, dark cloud that never seemed to be too far away. Tracey did whatever she could to keep the cloud at bay. Depression was not going to interfere with her ability to be a good mother, and Angie was always good for a laugh or a lightened mood.

  Tracey brought up Garrett’s attitude toward her.

  “He hates me,” she declared.

  That Angie didn’t say anything to contradict Tracey served as confirmation.

  “I get that I did something horrible. I get it. But it’s been months.”

  “Yeah?” Angie continued to fold her clothes. Her response seemed distant, or maybe preoccupied.

  “It’s been months. Garrett did get to see his daughter born. He sees her all the time and gets to do full daddy-duty. I can understand him not forgiving me. But he’s still so angry. It hasn’t lessened at all.”

  Not a word from the laundry quarter.

  “I mean, did he change?”

  “Might’ve done.” Angie placed a towel in her laundry basket and started on a pair of jeans.

  Tracey chewed her bottom lip, then huffed out an exasperated sigh.

  “Do you think he’s changed?”

  Angie put th
e jeans down and looked at her for the first time. Her expression was easy to read: irritation.

  A cold apprehension washed over Tracey. She had never seen that look before.

  “Actually, Tracey, I thank the good Lord he hasn’t changed. If you don’t like what you’re seeing, sorry. I hate to be the one to break it to you and all, but that’s Rett. Maybe you need to get to know my brother.”

  That got Tracey’s hackles up. “I do know your brother, Angie.”

  “No, Tracey, you know the person he wants you to know, you know the facts he wants you to know. Staying in the house all the time may have made you close, but in the end it limited the things you could know about him. Think about it. You’ve barely seen him with his friends or family. You don’t know the first thing about the way he acts with other people. And my brother is not the talkative type. He’s not going to tell you everything that’s on his mind. He’s not going to—”

  “But we did talk.”

  “Has Garrett ever been arrested?”

  “What?”

  “Has Garrett ever been arrested?” Angie repeated the question that had taken Tracey by surprise.

  “I don’t think he has,” Tracey answered stupidly.

  “Two times in juvenile court for the same thing.”

  “For what?” she whispered, nearly choking.

  Angie didn’t say. “Tracey, you like to dance, right? Does Garrett? Have you ever seen him dance?”

  “Now hold on a minute. Granted there are some things I don’t know about him, but he and I used to talk all the time. He told me about what was going on with Kim and everything.”

  “For you to be so damned jaded, you’re the most naïve person I know.”

  Tracey raised an eyebrow.

  “Garrett is a wonderful man, but he is just that, a man. When you’re trying to get someone into bed the first thing you do is make it clear that you’re free and, if you’re not free, that the relationship you’re in is so bad it cancels any obligation on your part.”