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It hits me, six months. I go through my phone. The first call from the number in Maryland was six months ago, November tenth. It was her, she was calling me. I don’t understand. Why was she calling me without leaving messages? Why did she keep the baby for so long if she didn’t want it? Fuck, I’m not going to find the answers here.
I throw stuff in my suitcase, not caring if it’s folded. I call my manager, I tell him family trouble, he yells somebody better be dying. He has no idea.
Four hours after I hang up with Amelia I’m walking through the front door. She’s waiting, wearing one of my shirts and a silky robe. I hold her tight. It feels like weeks since I held her. “Did you mean it?”
“Every word. I love you. Come meet your daughter.”
I follow her up the stairs, and she pushes open the door next to our room. All the bedrooms were empty, with different paint colors for each room. This room is a creamy butter yellow. There’s a crib against the wall with a mobile of zebra, lions, tigers, and giraffes above it. A night-light glows in the corner. Amelia opens the door wide to let light in the room. The baby is on her back, and she turns her head to find me. She’s in a white onesie with a baseball on it. Her hair is thick, black in a baby mohawk. Aside from her skin tone, only a shade darker than my own, she could be a snapshot of me when I was about her age, down to the baseball onesie.
Her small head tilts as she looks at me. I scoop her up out of the crib, holding her close, her head against my chest so I can look down at her. She’s tense for a moment before with a small sigh she goes limp against me. I capture a tiny hand. She’s so small. Is it normal for her to be this small?
I didn’t realize I said it out loud until Amelia speaks. “I don’t think so. She also doesn’t eat very well. Even though she seems constantly hungry, she only gets a few ounces down before she seems to get tired. We have a doctor’s appointment first thing in the morning tomorrow.”
Turning, I look down at her. It’s clear on her beautiful face. “You weren’t going to tell me.”
She shakes her head. “I didn’t think you coming home would help when you need to be on the field tomorrow doing your job. You here worrying won’t help anything. I called an investigator, he’ll get us everything we need to know to fix this so she stays ours. All you can do here is worry.”
“My job, my fucking purpose in this life is taking care of my family. You need me here because you’re worrying too, and you don’t need to feel alone on top of your worry. My daughter needs me here because she needs to know I’ll always be here to take care of her. This is all new to her. I want to be here from the beginning of it all.”
Carefully, I tug her close. With a whimper she slides her arms around me. I have my daughter in one arm and my woman in the other, and nothing has ever felt so right. I’ll do whatever it takes to ensure they never leave my arms again.
***
Chris
The sun is coming up. I turn my attention back to the video monitor I’ve been staring at for the last few hours, since Amelia fell asleep. We talked all night long. She told me what she found out about Triana or Theresa or whoever the hell she was going to be this week. I told her about figuring out the unknown calls had to be from the woman. Amelia made a follow-up call to the investigator to give him the phone number.
Then Amelia shared her fears about Simone’s health, how she was convinced Simone had been hurt in the past. With every new revelation my heart ached. It was bad enough thinking of all the things I missed out on, but to know Simone hadn’t been loved, taken care of...I understood Amelia’s vehemence about keeping Simone no matter what it took. It was a given for me to keep my daughter but it didn’t have to be for Amelia. She’d been presented with a baby by another woman from a random hookup. Most women would have run for the door, not her. Thank fucking god.
After only a few hours Simone is awake. She wiggles a little but doesn’t cry out. She hasn’t cried at all. I know most people would be relieved, I can’t shake the concern it isn’t right. She isn’t crying because nothing’s wrong; she isn’t crying because she’s learned it doesn’t help her. She’s been trained no one will come if she cries. Fuck.
Chest tight, I set down the monitor. I kiss Amelia’s forehead as I slowly roll her off me onto a pillow. Out of bed, I go into Simone’s room. When she sees me she wiggles a little in surprise, and almost hesitantly she puts out her arms. I lift her up and she cuddles right into me. Her warm little bod
y against me has me fighting not to tighten my hold on her. Whatever might have happened in the past isn’t going to happen again to her, ever.
Amelia comes downstairs as I’m thinking it’s time to wake her up for her to get ready for the doctor appointment. Her concern is clear, her hand on her chest until she sees us. I’m drinking coffee while Simone is resting on my chest. I’m not quite ready to put her down yet.
“Good morning, you need to get dressed to make our appointment. I got some egg muffins for you, coffee is hot.”
Her head tilts. “You changed her and took care of her.”
I laugh. “She is my daughter, I’m supposed to. She is pretty low-maintenance. You’re right about the feeding thing, she’s only had about four ounces. Guys love bringing their babies to the clubhouse then handing them off. I’ve only changed a few diapers before, but it wasn’t so hard, at least she’s not trying to get away like the other ones did. Go get ready, sugar.”
“Damn, you are so sexy.” She pulls me down for a kiss. “Good morning, sweetie, I’ll be right back.” Simone had gotten excited at the sight of Amelia, and she lets out a happy sigh at the kiss on her forehead. Then a sad frown that tugs hard in my chest when Amelia walks away.
I hug her close, kissing her little neck the way she seems to like. “It’s okay, baby girl, Mama will be right back.”
As we wait for the Uber to pick us up from the doctor’s office we’re both quiet. There was a testing center for DNA in the same big building, we’ll have the tests back by tomorrow afternoon. It was a pain in the ass not to know anything about my daughter. I hated saying I didn’t know if she had her vaccines or what her fucking date of birth was. November tenth was a guess only. A week, a fucking week of not knowing. The Uber pulls up, and it takes a few minutes to put the car seat in.
“Hey, do you mind not taking us home? Is there a dealership around here for Mercedes? Can you take us there?”
The driver nods as he pulls out his phone. “I’ll take you wherever you want to go. There’s one over in Wicker Park or in River West, which one?”
“The closest one is fine.” Amelia is quiet. “Talk to me, sugar.”
She shrugs. “I don’t know. He seemed quick to say she has asthma. My nanny had asthma, I don’t remember it being like what Simone is going through.”
I consider it. I had been surprised how quickly he had diagnosed it as asthma too. I was even more surprised by how unconcerned he seemed over how small Simone is. He’d shrugged off Amelia’s worry, telling her not all babies followed the growth chart. “We’ll try the breathing treatments, if they don’t work we’ll go back. We need to at least try, sometimes it’s the simplest things that seem big.”
