Quarterback’s Surprise Baby(49)

The temptation of the comfortable bed I just prepared is too much for me, and laying down on the mattress,, I touch my belly gently. Little baby, are you there? I ask. I wonder about names. If he's a boy, should we call him after Nicholas? Nickie? Or a girl, Nikki?

Of course, this “baby” could be nothing more than a bad burrito that I ate. But if so, Nicholas would probably be sick too.

Hard to say. My heart says yes though, that there’s a new heart beating in my body, a heart made from the love of Nicholas and I - a love that I want to endure forever. And if there isn’t a baby, right now I have to admit to myself that I want there to be one soon.

Will the baby have my eyes? Or his smile? I picture Nicholas holding a bundle of sweet-smelling infant, wrapped tight in a soft little cocoon. I imagine him delicately moving a little bit of blanket to gaze adoringly into the little one's eyes, his love pouring out of him into the baby, my love pouring out of me into both of them.

And with my hand on my belly, and Nicholas name on my lips, I begin to doze and dream. Then my beloved’s voice calls my name.

"Hey Adisa," I hear at the door. "Are you feeling any better? Any chance you can come give me a hand out here?”

“Be right there!” I rouse myself out of my sleep and off the couch, and run to welcome my father.

"Daddy!" I yell, and hug him with enthusiasm, while still trying not to jar him in any way or squeeze him too hard. He's still pretty tender, obviously, and quite weak. "I made you a bedroom out of the living room. Just for now. You can go back in your own bed when it’s easier for you to take the stairs. Is that ok? Come this way, how are you feeling? Sorry I didn't come to pick up, I have an upset stomach. But Nicholas said he’d get you, so I knew you’d be well taken care of. How was the drive back?" I realize I’m talking like a house on fire, but I’m just so excited that he’s back in the house and that things will have a chance to return to normal around here. Slowly. Eventually.

"Settle down, little one," My dad says, shuffling to the house with a smile on his face, his breath in white clouds like smoke against the cold air coming in through the open door. "I'm ok, I'm ok." Nicholas takes him by the arm and helps him along the way to the living room, after handing me the few bags of supplies and my dad's things.

"Do you need anything?" I ask dad. "A cup of tea, or maybe a sandwich? How’s your appetite? Are you hungry?" I find I’m still doing the motor mouth thing, but I just can’t help it.

"No I'm just fine, just need a soft place to rest these weary bones," he says. His voice is still weak, but it has a little bit more of his old self in it. “Just glad to be home,” he says. “You can stop hovering, baby. I’m ok.”

I look at his frame as he disappears into the living room.. It’s looking thinner than before. He is definitely improving, but there will still be a bit of time before he can really be the strong man he used to be. I hope he gets there sooner rather than later - or never. Like my mother was emotionally, he was always something of a paragon of physical strength in our house, and to see him getting so weak is something I didn't know would be this difficult.

But that's life, I guess. It moves on, and you can’t stop it - and you can’t even change it much.

We both help him to the couch and he lays down gratefully. "That's better," he says, as I lightly cover him with the afghan blanket, and in less than two minutes, his eyes are closing and he begins to snore. Poor man. My heart fills with love and concern.

"How did he do on the ride?" I whisper to Nicholas.

He meets my eyes with a small smile. "Pretty good. I tried to take a less bumpy route, so that I wouldn’t be disturbing him but I couldn’t avoid everything. Every time we went over any kind of hump he let out a little groan. Broke my heart.” He runs a hand through his thick hair. “I'm sure he's going to need some rest right now - and maybe one of us should try to get him up for a little walk later. Doctor said he'd be needing to do some very light exercise every day to build his strength back."

"Ok, good to know.” My dad seems peaceful now, and I don’t want to wake him. “Let's go into the kitchen," I say as I grab Nicholas’ hand. I whisper as we walk. "Did you get the test?"

"You betcha I did," he smiles again, but this time there is a shy sweetness in his face. And maybe a bit of hope? I can’t tell, maybe it’s wishful thinking on my part, but I feel it too. He holds up a bag. "Right here."

We sit down at the table, and I take it and look at the box, which promises “99% accuracy” in big bold yellow letters. My heart jumps as I trace them with my fingers. Am I ready? Should I take the test now? We stare into each other's eyes, and he reaches for my hand, stopping its nervous movement.

"Whatever it says, we're in this together." His hand softly traces the lines of mine, then he picks it up and kisses it softly on the back, and then turns it over and kisses my palm tenderly, giving me shivers. "Know that I love you, Adisa."

"And I love you, Nicholas, with all my heart. I don't know how this all happened, but it did. And if I have anything to say about it, it's going to last." My heart feels open as the blue sky, and his eyes are shining with love that I can’t help but return.

After a long moment, we stand up, and he gives me a big hug, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing before leading me to the bathroom.

"Time to pee on a stick," I whisper, trying to lighten the moment a little, hoping laughter will somehow assuage my fear. My grin probably is making me look like a crazy person. But what can I do? I’m nervous, excited, full of love, and scared as anything.

"Go for it," He grins back and pats me lightly on the butt as I go into the bathroom.

Once I close the door, the possibility of this pregnancy seems so real it makes my hands shake, but I try to wrap my feelings in Nicholas' soothing words. Jamal never would have said something like what Nicholas has to me. He’d have probably said something like, “You on your own, baby. Shoulda taken that pill, it’s your own fault.”

Thank heaven I’m not going through this with a trifling man like Jamal. Crazy that I felt at first like he and I were meant to be together. When a man like Nicholas was in store for me!

I know that Nicholas won't let me down -- the long talks we had told me that he really does want kids. And so do I, with him. Maybe I wouldn't have chosen this exact moment to have them, but even so, I'm sure I can handle it. Or we can. Together. That’s what he said.

I unwrap the package, and am glad to see my hands are shaking a bit less. The instructions are pretty clear. Just uncap, pee on the stick, put the cap back on, wait for three minutes. One line, not pregnant. Two lines, pregnant.

Unzip my pants, do the deed, and then wait - that’s all there is to it, right? I peer at the window, where my fate lies. Well, our fate. There's a pink line. But is there another? I think I see something. Oh god, I do see something. It's very faint, but there's clearly another line appearing. I put the test down on the vanity and look myself in the eye in the mirror I’ve been staring in since I was a little girl.

"Can I do this?" I ask myself quietly, but another voice answers me, internally. The soft voice of my mother, a soft voice with an edge of steely strength.

"Darn right you can. Just take it -"

"One day at a time." I whisper it to myself. "One day at a time." I see in my eyes, in the antique glass: the fortitude of my mother, and in the slight creases in the corners, her humor. I know I am part her, and I know I can have this baby.

I can do this. And with Nicholas at my side, I can do anything.

Taking a deep breath, I turn the handle and peek out, expecting to see him. But he's not waiting outside the door now, so I put the test in my pocket and go looking. I find him in the kitchen, getting the kettle on.

"Your dad woke up and said he could use a cup of tea after all, and I thought you might want one too," he says. The expression on his face belies his curiosity.

"Baby," I put my hand on his arm. He puts down the kettle.

"Baby?" He asks, and I hand him the test.

"Baby!" We say together, and laugh. He hugs me and spins me around.

"Oh Adisa, I'm so happy," he says into my hair. "I can't believe this."

"Me neither." His strong arms feel so good around me, so reassuring. And with more than a hint of that electricity, that chemistry that flows between us right down to my core. "I guess it wasn't a bad burrito after all, huh?"

"I guess not!" We smile at each other, and in his eyes I can see the love and affection I've always dreamed of having in my life; the pure joy at the news, and the simultaneous realization for both of us that we are going to spend our lives together. I've never felt so purely happy.

The kettle whistles, and I can hear my dad's voice calling from the other room. "Hey lovebirds, don't forget the tea!"

"You got it dad," I say, and we break apart reluctantly, but when I sneak a look at Nicholas' face, there's a smile so beautiful and peaceful, I’m filled with even more excitement. I know we're going to be ok.





Epilogue