Lonely Heart (14 page)

“Oh my God, Kaity, I thought we were goin’ to lose you!” Tiffany lay across my chest, trying her best to hug me.

Too parched to argue, I accepted Antonio’s assistance when he reached behind my head, guiding me to the cup he held to my mouth. Ice cold water flowed over my tongue and down my throat; I choked.

“Slow down,” Antonio removed the cup while Tiffany wiped water from my chin.

“Where …where is my baby?” My vision fuzzy, I tried my best to read the expression on their faces.

“She’s fine and in the NIC Ward,” Tiffany paused. “She’s gonna be okay. The pediatrician put her on oxygen because she had a hard time breathin’ on her own. The doctor said she would be fine in a day or two.”

I could feel my eyes go wide. “A girl?”

“Yes!” they said in unison.

Antonio smiled. “Kaity, she’s beautiful.” He set the cup of water down, then pulled his cell phone from his pocket. After pressing a few buttons, he held it up for me. “Four pounds, eight ounces.”

“My niece is perfect!” Tiffany beamed.

I blinked rapidly, forcing my faulty eyes to focus on the image. My daughter lay in a see-through incubator, naked except for a tiny diaper. Her fists were covered with miniature gloves, a series of tiny sensors were attached to her body. A thin plastic tube ran from her nose, obviously the oxygen feed. She faced the camera, eyes wide as if searching for me.

Tears filled my eyes. “I want my baby.”

My daughter was born while I was unconscious, unable to welcome her into the world. This was a bad sign. I would not be a good mother.

Antonio wiped my tears. “I know, but I promise, she’s okay. We’ve made sure of it. Neither of us has left your side since they brought you out of recovery except to take turns checking on her once an hour.”

“Once an hour? How long have I been asleep?”

Antonio and Tiffany glanced at one another.

“You were in recovery for a while before being moved to ICU. With your blood pressure still high, and organ failure, they’re keepin’ a close eye on you,” Tiffany said.

“You’ve been out of it for over twenty-four hours,” Antonio added.

“What?” It was a struggle to understand what they were telling me. While my health was important, it did not detract from my fear. My daughter needed me. Precious hours had passed since she entered the world and I already had lost time to make up for. “Antonio, please, I need to see her.”

His eyes softened as he ran a hand over my head. “I know. I’ll let the nurses know you’re awake. You need to be taken care of first. The doctor will probably run more tests to make sure you don’t have a relapse. Besides,” his smile was faint. “You don’t want your daughter’s first memory of you to be fly away hair and tear stained cheeks.” He knew he appealed to my vanity.

Beside him, Tiffany laughed.

“I’ll go check on the baby and tell them you’re ready to see her.” He headed for the door, paused. “By the way, I hope you’ve got a name picked out so everyone can stop saying ‘Baby Rodgers.’” He chuckled. “They finally figured out I wasn’t her father.”

She had a name, but it would not be uttered until her tiny ears were close enough to hear.

****

“What’s takin’ so long?”

After my doctor checked on me and said my vitals were improving, I’d been allowed a sponge bath and now wore pajamas brought from home instead of hospital scrubs. I would still be under strict observation for a few more days, but I didn’t care.

“They were about to give her a bath before the pediatrician came in to do her rounds. Doctor Santini is very thorough, I checked.”

I glared at Antonio
who sat in a chair across the room, watching TV. He was acquainted with my daughter’s pediatrician. This would be remedied quickly. My well-meaning friends would not start taking over the care
of─

“Where are Ebony and Yasmine?” I angled my head to Tiffany who brushed my hair. Between my need to see my daughter and Antonio and Tiffany’s attentiveness, I didn’t realize my best friends were not around.

“Home in bed. They stayed until you came out of recovery, and have called every couple of hours to check in. Yasmine’s husband had to force her to go home and get some rest. I called them while you were takin’ a bath and told them you were awake. Yasmine will be here as soon as visitin
’ hours start. Ebony is
callin’ in to work, then she’ll be in,” Tiffany informed me.

“What time is it?”

Antonio consulted his phone. “Four A.M.”

Four o’clock in the morning, and I had been unconscious for an entire day.

“When you’re up to it, I’ll call momma and daddy so they can hear your voice.” Tiffany said.

I looked over at my sister, surprise on my face.

“You didn’t think I wouldn’t call them did you? Especially after the scare you gave us? I waited until we knew you were alright first. Bailey and Justin sent their love and they all went in on the roses and balloons over there. It was a special delivery.”

For the first time, I noticed the table in the corner. Several dozens of flowers had collected while I’d been unconscious.

Tiffany stopped brushing my hair and walked over to the table. She held up the gift from my family.

“Momma…
and
Daddy?” It had been months since the last time I spoke to my mother over the phone, and my father…well, that was a completely different story.

“Yep. They were ready to jump in the car and drive over from Texas when I told them what happened. I made them stay home because I figured the shock of seein’ them both here might make matters worse. I promised we’d both call.” She cocked her head to the side. “I swear, Daddy really surprised me. He tried to hide how worried he was, but it was in his voice. I guess he cares about us more than we think.”

I fought back tears that threatened to spill and instead, cleared my throat.

“This basket full of goodies came from Yasmine and Zack, Ebony and Brian, and me.” She picked up this humongous gift basket and brought it over for my inspection.

Inside of the cellophane was a collection of baby bottles, rattles, stuffed animals, pacifiers, and bibs….all in pink.

“Oh that is beautiful. I can’t believe you guys bought more stuff. The baby shower was enough. Thank you.” I wiped at an escaped tear.

“Hey, you can never have enough baby stuff!” Tiffany laughed.

Antonio walked over to my side of the bed. “I didn’t get you flowers because there wasn’t any more room left on the table. So, I got you this instead.” He handed me a card.

I pulled it out of the sleeve and found a beautiful picture of a newborn baby lying on its stomach, naked. A simple printed message said, ‘Congratulations.” Beneath it in Antonio’s writing it said:

Kaity,

You are the most beautiful woman I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know. You have given me something to look forward to every time I see you. Now looking at your daughter, you’ve blessed me with even more beauty. Congratulations, and know I am here for both of you whenever you need me.

Antonio

My eyes were wide when I looked up at him. To my surprise, he seemed nervous. “Antonio, I don’t know what to say…”

“I meant every word of it.” His nervousness seemed to morph to confidence when our eyes met.

For a moment I could swear something between us had begun.

A knock on the door drew everyone’s attention.

“Okay, Momma, I’ve got someone who’s anxious to meet you.” The nurse who wheeled in the bassinet had a sweet voice full of enthusiasm. I smiled my thanks and trained my attention to the white blanketed bundle. Tears flooded my eyes.

“Alright,” she pulled a hand held scanner, then reached for my wrist. “I need to confirm your ID tag matches hers.” She scanned my arm band, checked the screen, then repeated the process with the band on my daughter’s leg. “Everything’s good.” She set the scanner down and lifted my daughter out of the bassinet.

My hands were in the air, fingertips wiggling in anticipation of feeling the weight of the life I’d carried within me. “Oh my God…” I cradled my newborn daughter in the crook of my arm and cried.

My vision blurred even further, but that didn’t stop me from kissing every inch of her exposed skin.

Her skin was a perfect shade of pink, and smelled of baby powder.

“Hi, little one,” I whispered, “It’s Momma.” As if she’d been waiting to hear my voice, her eyebrows came together the same time her eyes opened.

They were deep rich brown…just like Luke’s.

Holding her close to my heart, I slid the cap from her head; a soft tangle of blond curls, like mine, adorned her head. She was a spitting image of my baby pictures.

Then I realized there were no tubes. “Wasn’t she on oxygen?” I addressed the nurse, then turned to Antonio and Tiffany for confirmation.

“Yes, but not anymore,” she replied. “She’s a fighter, like her momma. The doctor performed a checkup before I brought her here. She’s got a clean bill of health, but we’ll still monitor her for a few more days.”

I breathed a sigh of relief, then unwrapped the swaddled blanket. Instinct guided my actions to do what every mother did: lay her on my lap and examine every inch of her skin. I counted ten fingers and toes, visually confirming the fact she was indeed perfect.

“What is her name?” Antonio asked, while snapping pictures with his phone.

I cradled my daughter and kissed her tiny nose. “Chloe. Chloe Michelle Rodgers.”

Three months later…

“Why can’t I get this right?”

I threw down my pencil and tossed the costume sketch aside. The first meeting with the costume department of my new job was one week away. For the past week, I had taken notes from the information provided by the director. I had a week to create a theme for the cast’s wardrobe for the show’s opening sequence. My ideas would in turn be relayed to my team.

From there we would hit the ground running.

I read the script for the pilot and the first three episodes. Each scene was broken down by characters and action in the scene to determine what wardrobe would be needed. That included everything from shoes to nose rings.

Then came scouring the used wardrobe department for items or costumes that could be recycled before shopping for new ones.

I assisted my previous boss with this type of detail so this was nothing new. The only problem was being unfamiliar with the new set, studio, and members on my team.

Add the fact I no longer followed the vision of someone else…

The thought unnerved me.

Now it was my vision, my interpretation of what the show’s writers and producers wanted.

Everyone would be looking at me for direction. Talk about stress.

A high pitched cry came from the corner of my room. My attention immediately went to the crib.

How in the hell could I lead a team of experienced adults, when I couldn’t appease my three month old daughter?

Chloe bawled, her legs kicking and arms flailing. For the past hour, I did everything in my power to help her feel better, but nothing worked. A diaper rash irritated her beyond belief. The cream wasn’t working fast enough. The little relief it provided did nothing for the fact my daughter didn’t want to lay in the crib, she wanted to be in my arms. With my deadline approaching, I didn’t have time to pamper her.

Frustrated beyond belief, I yelled. Her cries mixed with my own.

I hated myself, failed my daughter, and realized I was not the person for the job…either of them.

Every decision made in the last year culminated into one big disaster.

I pulled myself together and walked over to the crib. My red faced baby now cried so much her voice was hoarse. Chloe calmed and turned her head to my breast the instant she was in my arms, wanting to suckle. It wasn’t from hunger because she’d been fed an hour ago. I slipped the pacifier into her mouth. Not wanting it, she spit it back out, her tiny lip trembling as she worked up another cry.

How in the world could I possibly balance being a mom, my new job, and anything else life threw my way?

It was too late to change my past. I could only deal with the repercussions of my decisions.

I refused to end up like my mother. I would not become the emotionally fucked up woman who withdrew from her daughter and gave up on life. Giving up on everything would mean leaving Chloe alone for the rest of her life.

No siblings. No mother. No father.

Luke, the arrogant asshole.

I didn’t inform him of his daughter’s birth until we were discharged from the hospital. With my medical issues up in the air, the last thing I needed was additional stress brought on by whatever his reaction would be. Since then, he’d only visited her twice.

Once he came with flowers. He appeared uncomfortable and didn’t stay long. The next time, he came with a box of diapers and gave me fifty dollars as if she was someone else’s baby.

Money meant nothing. Right now, Luke needed to be her father. Needless to say, the second visit had been as brief as the first.

We hadn’t talked since.

My daughter’s life was screwed up and it was my fault.

Unable to contain my emotions, my tears started mixing in with my baby’s.

“What is goin’ on in here?” Tiffany walked into the room, a towel wrapped around her damp head, wearing a robe. “I was in the shower when I heard you scream bloody murder. It’s a wonder the cops aren’t beatin’ down the door.”

I peered over my shoulder at my sister. Concern, pity, and fear were on her face. I recognized her expression. It was the one I used on momma when it was evident she was about to have one of her mental breakdowns.

“Oh God, I’ve turned into Momma!” I sobbed. “Take her, Tiffy! I’m no good!” I pushed my daughter into the arms of my competent sister, then climbed underneath the covers, unable to stop the heavy flow of tears.

“It’s okay, Chloe, Auntie Tiffy’s gotcha.”

My sister did the one thing I hadn’t been able to do in the past hour; comfort my daughter with a sense of confidence. Her voice grew distant as she left the room.

Alone, I contemplated my life’s decisions. The good, the bad…the ‘what if’s’ of my past.