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The nurses brought the baby to Gianna—in its gooey, messy glory and all—and let her hold him. “Congrats, mommy,” the nurse spoke, “you have a beautiful baby boy.”
Gianna finally released her death grip on my hand in order to accept the baby, and she cradled him close, laughing and crying at the same time. She held onto that baby like it was her lifeline, even kissed his wet head.
I stood there, unable to take my eyes off him. So small. So… alien. Just a helpless baby with some tufts of black hair on its tiny head.
Would this baby grow up a mirror image of Miguel? Would he look like his rapist of a father? Would he be just as evil and vile?
No. I wouldn’t let that happen, nor would Gianna. This baby would have a loving mother, a loving non-aunt, and a whole bunch of crazy uncles. This boy would grow up to be nothing like Miguel.
And that, I swore to myself, would be the last time I thought of Miguel Santos.
“What are you going to name him?” I asked.
Gianna gave me a weary but happy smile. “Roberto.” I was seconds from telling her I loved the name when she spoke his full name aloud: “Roberto Carlitos Melendez.” When I didn’t say anything, she whispered, “Carlitos for Charlie.”
My heart constricted when she said my true father’s name. I’d told her how Father Charlie had saved me, how he’d helped me, how he was the only reason I was still alive. I’d told her that I owed him everything… but I never told her the entire truth, how he was my biological father. Maybe one day.
But hearing her say his name, knowing she was giving her son that middle name in honor of the man who’d saved me; it was enough to make me tear up.
I was not a girl who cried anymore. I’d cried out enough tears for a lifetime three years ago, but the water in my eyes now came from a different emotion. From happiness, from warmth. From everything I never thought I’d feel.
The nurses took the baby away to clean him up and do whatever else they had to with him. Gianna’s job wasn’t quite done yet, either.
Would I ever have a child of my own? I… if you would’ve asked me that question before, before all this happened, before I killed Miguel and had Ezekiel take care of Rocco, I would’ve said a big, emphatic, fuck no.
But now, after gazing upon that innocent little boy? Maybe my answer was different.
Maybe having a kid wouldn’t be so bad.
Once it was all over and Gianna was resting, she rolled her head over to look at me, a big smile on her face. She must’ve sensed my weakening resolve when it came to children. “So, when are you going to have kids? Roberto could use a playmate.”
I laughed. “Uh, not for a while yet, I don’t think. Let’s not talk about me having kids in front of the guys, okay?” My relationships with them had moved so fast, I didn’t know how any of them felt about kids, or even if they wanted them. One step at a time.
Gianna grinned, but she traced a finger over her mouth, as if zipping her lips and throwing away the key.
I went to the waiting room and grabbed the guys. While Gianna rested, I brought them to the hall where you could stand and look into the baby room, where they kept all the newborns in rolling carts labeled in rows. I pointed him out, told the guys the baby’s name, and watched as each of them turned mystified. They huddled around me, surrounding me, blocking me off from the world until all I could see was Roberto Carlitos Melendez.
This was truly a new beginning. With any luck, things would be easier from here on out. For the first time ever, I was looking forward to the future and the surprises it held.
Maybe, someday in the distant but not too far future, Roberto would get a playmate from me.
