‘Yes, of course; I’m a grandad! I can’t believe it!’
After Bianca had been cleaned up and made comfortable, we were finally invited into her room – just a few at a time – to meet their new bundle of joy.
‘We’re calling him Aaron!’ Steven beamed, his face glowing with pure joy and pride. My little nephew lay nestled in Bianca’s arms – an oddly fascinating mix of tiny limbs, soft skin, and the rawness of just having entered the world.
I spent most of those first hours in my brother’s arms, sobbing erratically as our families all stared down at this tiny new bundle of life that had just appeared. I was officially an auntie now – Auntie to little Aaron – which meant I suddenly had responsibilities that stretched beyond myself. I would have a hand, however small, in shaping the person he would become, and that was a role I needed to take seriously.
For so long, I’d been consumed with trying to be the perfect daughter, the model child who lived up to my parents’ expectations of what I should be (if we exclude the whole ‘not becoming a lawyer’ bit, that is …). But holding Aaron, I realised I simply didn’t have the emotional energy to carry both loads – to keep being what my parents wanted,andto give him the example he deserved. Something had to shift, and maybe that brief conversation with my dad in the hospital corridor was just the beginning. My nephew needed me to show up as the best role model for him, not as some ideal version of myself sculpted to satisfy my parents.
I got back home at around 8.30 a.m., exhausted, yet laced with a warmth and joy I hadn’t felt since yesterday morning. After feeding Toby his breakfast, I flopped back into bed, fully prepared to have a quick fifteen-minute nap before taking a shower. But just as I was settling in, a DM from Theo lit up my screen. I bolted upright like I’d been hit with a taser. We were supposed to meet at 10 a.m. today. Shit. I hadn’t slept a wink and I looked like absolute shit.
Morning, beautiful. Looking forward to seeing you soon! I’m going to head down in the next twenty minutes or so. Also, could I get your number? I figure it would be easier to text than through the app. No worries if not. X
I read the message, a flicker of panic running through me. Every fibre of my body was begging for rest, and the Rimowa-sized suitcases under my eyes were doing me no favours. But Theo had asked for my number.My number.Was he breaking his own carefully drawn rules and boundaries now? Oh, baby. He wanted me. This was it. The tide was turning. Tiredness be damned—I wasn’t about to stop the flow of destiny now.
I messaged him back, first sending him my phone number, followed by:
Of course you can have my number: there you go. I’m excited to see you! Also, apologies in advance if I look a little rough, it’s been a long night! x
I ran into the bathroom, brushed my teeth and had the quickest shower I’d ever had. Afterwards, I threw on one of my luxury sheet facemasks while I moisturised my body and hastily put on an old-yet-comfortable and well-fitted Lucy & Yak sunflower-patterned jumpsuit, complete with a pair of Adidas Sambas. It wasn’t glamorous, but it had to do for now.
As I tore off the mask and prepared to make a mad dashon my make-up, I heard my phone ring; it was Steve. Halfway through putting my concealer on, I grabbed the phone.
‘’Sup Daddy?’ I said hastily. There was an awkward silence as I processed what I’d just said. ‘I mean, not in that way – don’t make it weird or anything, I—’
Steven cut me off halfway through. ‘I’m gonna forget you said that, weirdo. Anyway, I was calling to ask a favour, if that’s OK? I forgot to bring a few things for Bianca and Aaron, and the doctors want Bianca to stay at the hospital for another day because of something to do with her blood pressure. They wanna monitor it.’
‘Oh shit, I hope everything’s under control?’ I replied, using my beauty sponge to blend out the concealer under my eyes. I had an hour before Theo was due to arrive.
‘Yeah, they’re both fine. Mum doesn’t wanna leave my side and Dad’s fucked off back home, so I was wondering, pretty please, if you could just pick up a couple of baby vests, and a few cheap nighties and underwear for Bianca? I would ask if you could go to our flat but it’s too out of the way, and you’re closer to the hospital. We need it for this morning if possible as we’re fresh out.’
Shit. So much for my date with Theo – looked like auntie duty decided to show up ahead of schedule.
‘Ahh, yeah, no worries, bro. Text me the full list of things you need and I’ll swing by this morning,’ I replied, accidentally stabbing myself in the eye with the mascara wand.
‘Love you, appreciate you!’ called my brother from the other end of the phone.
I put the phone down, slightly annoyed at having to change my plans so last minute. Theo was probably on his way and a pit of guilt made its way to my stomach over the thought of having to cancel so suddenly. I also looked … dishevelled. And not in the sexy, tousled, French-girl way. No – this was more‘sleep-deprived pigeon who lost a bar fight’. My eyeliner had gone rogue, tilting at an angle like it was desperately trying to escape my face. The concealer under my eyes had crept into every fine line, basically sending out a public service announcement that I had crow’s feet. My braids were shoved into what could generously be called a bun – more realistically, a haystack in witness protection. My edges? They’d staged a walkout and were now somewhere around my ears.
I opened my messages and texted him:
Hey Theo. I’m so so sorry to do this, but I can’t make today any more. I’ve got a bit of a family emergency at the hospital and need to get some bits for my bro; can we reschedule?
As I screenshot the list of items Steven had texted to me, I continued getting ready, dismayed over not being able to chill with Theo today, but feeling excited about being able to see my nephew again. Minutes later, I receive a text back from Theo:
I completely understand, I hope your brother is OK? I’ve actually just started making my way and it’ll probably take me about forty minutes or so to get to South; do you need any help or anything? I can be your chauffeur perhaps if you need to pick some things up … let me know. Send message. Siri? Send message. Oh shit, SEND! Mate, get out of the lane, you’re blocking—
I reread the text and cackled at his attempt at using the voice-to-text function on his phone. There was something so sexy about him offering to help me in my time of need. I smiled to myself as I texted back:
Thank you so much and apologies for the change of plan! I’m making my way into town, but if you meet me atSt Thomas’ Hospital, that would be great. Let me know when you get there; looking forward to seeing you! Also we’re gonna have to get you a few lessons on how to send a voice text, Gramps. x
Thirty minutes later and I was in my local TK Maxx breezing through the baby and beauty aisles like a contestant on Supermarket Sweep. I picked up a couple of newborn vests and Babygros, some cute yellow cotton mittens, water wet wipes, a pack of five panties and two nighties for Bianca, and a little toiletry travel set. As I ordered an Uber to take me to the hospital, I got another text from Theo:
Listen, it’s my first time doing one of these speak-text things, OK? Cut me some slack. Trying to be a responsible driver and all that, or would you rather I text with my hands and I end up DEAD? Haha, I’ll let you know once I get to the hospital. Send text. No … delete the ‘send text’ bit and just SEND THE TEXT.
I made my way up to the delivery suite after arriving at the hospital – shopping in tow – as I decided to pick up some pastries and a few bottles of water and juice for Steven and Bianca at the hospital shop. Bianca and little Aaron were fast asleep, and Steven was sitting in the chair, looking like a man who hadn’t slept for a week. He looked up and smiled at me dozily as I placed the shopping bags on the side cabinet and crept over to the hospital crib to gaze at Aaron, who was sleeping peacefully, gently sucking on his thumb. He was absolutely perfect, and incredibly hairy for a newborn. My heart swelled as he began to do a little stretch.
‘He’s amazing, isn’t he?’ Steven cooed, peering behind me to look at his son. ‘He and Bianca have been amazing, man. I still can’t believe it; I’m a whole dad. A dad!’
