Chapter 25

The day that Wes returned to the hospital, my contractions began. It was mid-morning, right as I was sitting down for breakfast when I felt it slam into my body like a fucking truck. I breathed harshly, completely taken off guard. It was painful, but it could’ve been nothing. When it happened again a couple of minutes later, I knew.

Bean. She was coming.

I went and packed myself an overnight bag, taking all the things I’d planned. Some extra clothes, toiletries, a few outfits and booties and headbands for Bean to wear in the hospital. I packed up everything I needed, all the while biting my lip through the contractions, needing to sit every time one rolled through my body. It was excruciating.

I called Wes.

“Hey, babe,” he said, and I could hear the click clack of a computer keyboard. He was likely researching for surgery or doing reports.

“It’s time, Wes.”

There was a pause. “Now?”

We were two weeks early, but Bean was ready. Another contraction, and I was left groaning and gasping.

“Yes, now,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Fuck, holy fuck,” he said, suddenly sounding frantic. “I’m gonna call you an ambulance. I’ll meet you at the hospital, okay?”

“You’re already there,” I said.

“Right,” he agreed. “I’m gonna call them now. Hold on, baby.”

Less than five minutes later, I was letting the paramedics help me onto a stretcher.

“Deep breaths,” an EMT said, giving me a warm smile. “You’ve got this, Mama.”

Mama. Holy shit. That’s what I was about to become.

It all happened so fast. A few hours of labor later, she was in my arms. I’d reached for her instinctively, and they gave her to me, let me have her because she was mine. Wes had cut the cord, already beside me, wiping my sweaty hair back from my face, looking adoringly down at our daughter.

She was ... perfection. She had golden-brown skin, the color of honey and milk, and a single drop of chocolate. I kissed her head as she squirmed, wiggling in my arms, sniffling and scared.

“It’s me,” I said, my eyes heavy with tears. She seemed to recognize my voice and looked up at me. I was immediately struck by how beautiful her eyes were. She had Wes’s eyes, a stunningly deep tapestry of blues. I wondered if she’d keep the blue, or if it would change to brown like mine. She’d be perfect either way. Her hair was dark and black like her father’s, though considerably less thick. She had that wispy baby hair.

“She looks like you,” I said to Wes. I still couldn’t tear my eyes off our daughter.

“She does,” he agreed. “But she’s got your fire.”

He was right. She was feisty with the nurses, already showing the world who was boss.

“Dragon Lady,” Wes said to me and then turned to our daughter, “Dragon Baby.”

I laughed and laughed and laughed.

Bean kind of stuck. We called her that, even though her name was Charlotte and she should have been called Charlie for short. Things don’t always work out the way you plan.

“Come here,” Addie said, taking Bean. She rocked her in her arms, cooing to her. I warned her that she was going to get baby vomit on her dress, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Oh, thank god you’re here,” Rita said. Her hair and makeup had already been done. She looked so fucking beautiful that it made my heart ache. It was her wedding day.

“Sorry I’m late,” I said. “California traffic. Forgot how fucking awful it was.”

The cosmetologist did my makeup and hair next, and then I slipped into the sky-blue long summer bridesmaid dress. My hair had been curled in voluminous beach waves down my shoulders. After I’d finished, Addie and I helped Rita into her wedding dress. We zipped her up and then tied the corset, pulling it as tight as she asked us to. Her waist looked ridiculously tiny, and the beautiful curve of her body made me almost jealous. I was still trying to get my pre-baby body back, but it was a slow process and I’d only barely started to accept that.

Bean was happy to receive all the attention from the bridesmaids. Rita didn’t mind. She was rocking Bean in her arms before walking down the aisle, laughing as my daughter babbled happily. Wes came ten minutes before the wedding march to collect Bean, and then I walked down the aisle with a groomsman, taking my place as one of the bridesmaids.

The wedding was beautiful. Brian, surprising us all, cried as he read his vows. Rita punched him in the arm for making her cry. The church smelled of old, rich wood and flowers, the day was bright and sunny, and my daughter didn’t fuss through the ceremony. It was a perfect day.

Wes found me at the reception, pressing a kiss to my lips. I saw the way he interacted at the wedding, dancing on the floor with our friends, raising his glass for all the toasts, grinning through the speeches. He seemed so at ease, and I realized that Wes fit naturally in a wedding. He blended in so well that he might as well have been the groom. He gave free medical advice to the guests, danced with Rita, fed me cake while I held Bean.

Like Rita and Addie had said so long ago, he was husband material.

I tried not to think about it. We were already happy.

Weren’t we?

Elena and Janie moved to Maryland right before I started school in the fall. Janie had just graduated high school, and Elena wanted to be close to her grandchild. As I began my journey of classes and homework and lectures, I was infinitely grateful for their help. Elena and Janie were always happy to take Bean, and on night classes, sometimes I took Bean with me to school where she’d sleep in her wraparound sling, cuddled up against my body while I’d take notes in class or research topics at the library. The professors were accommodating and kind, one even holding Bean while I took my exams so I could concentrate.

Wes worked hard at the hospital, I worked hard at school, and Bean worked on being a baby, learning new tastes and smells and textures. She hit all the major milestones right on time, and began walking early, toddling across our hardwood floors, which we’d quickly covered with rugs to help cushion the blow on her little knees when she’d topple over. We’d rented a house and began to furnish it slowly, putting our lives together with each piece, cementing this future that we were building together.