King

Eight pounds and one ounce of perfection entered our world six hours later.

“She’s perfect.” Tears are streaming down her flushed cheeks. The delivery was exhausting, but Holland was a champ. She’s a little shaky still from the hormones rushing through her body, so I offer to take our daughter from her so she can rest.

“Of course she is, do you want me to take her?”

“No, I need both of you close. Can you just come and sit next to me?”

“Of course, but are you hurting?” I nod toward her belly.

I have just witnessed a doctor performing what I consider to be a gruesome repair of Holland’s female anatomy. He assured me everything went fine and that ‘things’ will be back to normal before we know it. I don’t think I’m ever going to be back to normal after watching an entire human come out of her body. I can’t imagine how she’s sitting on her ass after all that. She’s got to be sore. She was phenomenal. She even refused an epidural when the doctors and nurses were practically insisting she have one.

“Are you disappointed she’s not a boy?” she asks.

“You’re kidding, right?” I raise my eyebrows and sit on the edge of the bed, wiping her tears away with a scratchy hospital tissue. “Blow,” I say and hold another tissue to her nose.

“Okay, Daddy.” One corner of her mouth lifts in a mischievous smile with the double entendre, and she honks loudly into the tissue before handing it back to me.

“Watch it now, Mommy,” I say, and when I stretch forward to toss it into the trash, she reaches out to stop me, placing her hand on my stubble covered cheek. Her eyes are serious now, and the playfulness is gone.

“I mean it. I know you were looking forward to having a son.” Her eyes dart back and forth between mine, trying to read what I’m thinking.

The truth is that I am so incredibly smitten with this beautiful baby girl that I couldn’t care less that she’s not a boy.

I cover her hand on my cheek with mine and tell her exactly that. “Don’t ever, for a second, think that I’m disappointed. I thought she was a boy . . . I don’t know why, but she’s not, and I’m glad. Do you want to know why?”

“Yes.”

“Because now I have two remarkable, stunning women in my life instead of just one, and it doesn’t get much better than that, baby. It doesn’t get better than that.”

I pull her into the crook of my neck, pressing her face against my skin so I can kiss the top of her head. She snuggles against me, holding the baby between us and trying not to smash her.

“Here, let me have her,” I say, taking the little pink bundle out of her arms. I stand and turn to sit in the bed next to her. I slide one arm around her shoulders and hold the baby in my other arm so Holland can rest her head on my chest and ogle her.

“It’s weird, huh?” she says thoughtfully.

“Being a parent? Yeah, really weird. Doesn’t feel real yet.”

“It’s gonna feel real when she’s waking us up every two hours to eat.” I feel her smile against my chest.

“It won’t be that bad. You’ve been getting up every two hours to pee for months,” I remind her.

“That’s true. What are we going to name her?” Holland alternates between tenderly stroking the baby’s cheek with the tip of her finger and running her hand along the waffled texture of the pink blanket. She’s having trouble believing this is real too.

“You don’t have any girl names picked out?” I ask.

“No, you were dead set on her being a boy.”

“All right. Okay, do you want to name her after your mother?”

“King, that’s not even funny.”

“Sorry, you’re right. Speaking of your mother, did you call her and tell her you were coming to the hospital?”

“No. She never wanted me to have her, so I figured she wouldn’t want to be a part of this.”

“I think you should call. She’s your mom, baby. Don’t you think she’s gotten past the baby thing yet?”

“It’s not so much the baby thing as it is the violin thing. She thinks any chance of my being a professional violinist went out the window when I decided to have a baby. She’s obsessed with my success.”

“You can be successful at more than one thing, you know. I mean, your talent is larger than life. I have no doubt you’ll be famous. A baby is just a little detour on the map. You’re still going to get there, just not when you planned on it.”

“When she planned on it.”

“Let’s not hash this over again today of all days. We’ll deal with your mother later, but I do think you should call her and tell her she’s a grandma.” I smile and wink. She’s going to hate that title.

“Yeah, she’s gonna love that . . . Grandma.”

“Back to names—how about Destiny or Doris?”

“Destiny . . . or . . . Doris?” She giggles, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I should have never mentioned her mother.

“No? Okay, how about September or Marlene?” I say.

Our nurse is shuffling around at the other end of the room, cleaning up after the delivery. She stops and raises her eyebrows, giving me an ‘are you nuts’ look.

“September? What the heck, King, it’s February.”

“Okay, February then.”

“No, no months or seasons. Something romantic because she was born on Valentine’s Day.”

“Romantic. Okay, let’s see . . .” I’ve been messing around, but now I’m really thinking. What is a romantic name for a girl?

“Juliette, like from Romeo and Juliette. I know it’s a tragic story, but it was the ultimate romance, don’t you think?”

“Yes, I do, and I love it. Juliette,” she says to the tiny wrinkly face sleeping in my arms. “Your name will be Juliette.”

I glance up at the nurse who is finishing up, and she gives me a very approving smile before leaving the room.

“Your nurse likes it too,” I say.

“She’s probably just glad we didn’t name her September.”

“Whatever, September’s a great name. What about a middle name?”

“We could name her after your mama . . . wait, I don’t even know what your mama’s name was. That’s terrible, King. I’m so sorry I’ve never asked.”

She props up on her elbow to look at my face and winces. “Wow, that numbing medicine is really wearing off,” she says.

“I’ll get the nurse. You need some pain meds. And don’t worry about my mother’s name. You already know it.”

“I do? How?”

“Because I just told you, Juliette.” I kiss her again on the head before getting up to put Juliette into the bassinette.

“Oh, King, your mama’s name was Juliette?”

“It was her middle name. Her first was Isabelle.”

“Did you think I wouldn’t like it?”

“I wasn’t sure. People are so into weird names these days,” I say, shrugging as if naming my daughter after my mother isn’t that important, but it is. I loved my mother very much, and a big piece of me died when she died. Naming my daughter after her feels like I’m getting a little bit of her back. If Holland had shot down my suggestion, it would have stung.

“Well, I love it, and just so you know, I would have named her Gertrude if it made you happy.”

“Yeah? I can’t believe it. My grandma’s name was Gertrude. We can name her Juliette Gertrude Romero.” And with that, Juliette burst into tears.

“She doesn’t like it, and you’re kidding, right? About the Gertrude thing?”

“Yeah, just messing with ya. Why don’t we give her your middle name?”

“Blue? Really? It’s sorta weird. I thought you didn’t like weird.”

“It’s not weird, and yes, really. Let’s name her Juliette Blue Romero. It sounds perfect.”

“Okay, so now that she has a name, can I take a nap?” Her big puppy dog eyes tug at my heart.

“You don’t have to ask me, baby. You’ve been through a lot today. I’d say you deserve a good, long nap. You want me to call Savannah and your dad? I’ll tell them to visit tomorrow when you’re more up to it.”

“Yeah, that’s good, but you’ll come back to bed with me, right?”

I move to her side and take the hair tie from her wrist. I scoop her damp hair into a ponytail the way she likes it, all messy and floppy on top of her head, and secure it with the band.

“I’ll go make the calls and tell Sebastián about the baby—he’s in the waiting room—then I’ll be back, promise.”

“Pinky swear?” she asks.

“Yeah, baby, pinky swear,” I say, linking pinky fingers with her again. “Great work today, champ. You were fucking amazing.”

“Thanks.” She snuggles down into bed with her arms wrapped around her pillow. Her weak smile and droopy eyes tell me all I need to know. She needs some serious rest. I tuck her in and dim the lights.

“Should I take her to the nursery so you can sleep?”

“No, please, just roll her over here next to me.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t want to be separated from her.”

“Okay,” I say, rolling the bassinette right up next to her bed and lowering the bed rail so she can reach out and touch Juliette while she sleeps.

Standing in the door of her hospital room, I watch the two of them until Holland’s heavy eyelids close and Juliette is still under her mother’s hand. They’re so beautiful that I slip out my phone and take a picture of the tender moment. Those two girls are my world. They are my responsibility, and I plan on providing them with everything they need in life to grow and flourish. After being alone in the world for the past five years, it’s an amazing feeling to have people I can call family again.

“King.” Someone whispers from behind me, and I turn to see Sebastián and Candy holding hands a few feet away. I still have a hard time thinking of those two as a couple for some reason.

I motion for them to come closer and hold my finger over my lips.

“They’re sleeping,” I say, and Candy peeks around me to look at them.

“Girl or boy?” Sebastián asks.

“Girl,” I say.

“You were wrong,” he says.

Candy clasps her hands together. “A girl,” she whispers loudly.

“Yep, now I have two women in my life. Here are some pictures I took earlier.” I hold out my phone to Sebastián, and he scrolls through them, his face brightening a little more with every photo.

“What did you name her?” he asks.

“Juliette . . . Juliette Blue Romero,” I say with just a little pride. Sebastián stops scrolling and stares at me. Candy notices the awkward stillness and compliments me on the name.

“It’s so beautiful. Where did you come up with it?” she asks.

“It was his mother’s middle name,” Sebastián answers, handing me back my phone, and I swear I see tears in his eyes before he turns abruptly and walks away.

“Oh, did I say something wrong?” Candy asks.

“I don’t think so. He knew my mother very well. Maybe it just brought back some memories or something,” I say for her benefit, but inside, I’m really shocked at Sebastián’s strong reaction to my naming my daughter after my mother. I thought it was a perfectly acceptable thing to do, but Sebastián seemed torn between grief and anger when I told him.

“Oh, okay. Yeah, I guess you’re right. Hey, can I see those pictures now?” she asks, and I hand her my phone.

“I’m gonna go see if he’s okay. Be right back.” I turn and head down the hall where Sebastián disappeared.

When I find him, he’s in the hospital lobby, staring out the window into the dark with his hands in his pockets. I stand next to him and look out into the dark parking lot of the hospital.

“You okay?” I ask

“Oh yeah. Just caught me by surprise with the name is all.”

“Yeah? It’s not so weird to name your kid after your mother, is it?”

“No, of course not. We just all figured it was a boy. You were pretty insistent, so I figured you had the OB tell you and you were just keeping it a secret.”

“Nope, I’m just as surprised as you are.”

“Is Holland all right? Did everything go well?”

“Yep, she’s great—tired as hell, but she was amazing.” I glance over and catch him swiping tears from his face.

“What’s going on with you? Why the tears, old man?” I ask.

“Just happy for you, that’s all, King. I never saw this coming, but I know it’s what you’ve always wanted.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

An ambulance speeds by the window, drawing our attention back to the parking lot with its red and blue flashing lights.

I slide my hand to the back of my neck and sigh.

“Now I just need to get out of this this damn business without getting us all killed.”

Sebastián turns to look at me hard for a long time before turning to look out the dark window again.

His cold, skeptical eyes drain me of the adrenaline high I’ve been riding since Holland delivered.

Getting out of the drug business is proving to be much more difficult than I’d anticipated. There is no one left of the Romero family to handle the business, only me. We have the largest, most intricately orchestrated importation of illegal high quality drugs coming into the United States and Europe. The people I deal with trust me because my name is synonymous with a smooth, uncomplicated business. My father was equally feared and respected in his industry. He developed a relationship with the law in the countries he distributed to, and they trusted no one but Arturo Romero—now that he’s dead, they trust his son. They hold me to a certain standard. They expect things, demand things that only the Romero name can deliver. I’ve been trying to find a way out ever since I found out Holland was pregnant, but so far nobody’s budging. They want my drugs, my connections and my protection.

“Go get some rest, and love on those two ladies.” Sebastián grabs me in a one-armed hug that lasts too long. He stands there squeezing me for a while, slaps my back, and then he pushes me away. The whole thing felt very foreign. Sebastián doesn’t hug. He’s not the touchy feely, chatty type at all, but then again, I’ve never had a baby either, so . . .

“Thanks. I will.”

“I’ve gotta go get Candy before she blows her cover. She’s a sucker for babies.”

I hired Candy as my personal assistant, but Holland’s never met her, and I’d like to keep it that way for now. I found out after my flight with Candy and after Sebastián came clean about their relationship that she was my father’s private bookkeeper. She somehow lost her job when we restructured after my father’s death. Sebastián couldn’t help her because no one knew they were together. My father had a strict rule about mixing business with pleasure. He forbade it under any circumstances.

Candy knows the drug business from the inside and she’s street smart, but she’s kind and loving and motherly . . . just the kind of person Holland would love.

I need her and Juliette as far away from anyone associated with my family as possible if I am going to keep them alive. Candy’s just too close. She knows too much, and she’s an asset that enemies would love to destroy, and that’s why Sebastián is the perfect match for her. He keeps her safe. It’s also why I don’t want her associating with Holland.

Back in our hospital room, I slip off my shirt and shoes, leaving my suit pants on, and slide in behind Holland. She doesn’t move a muscle, and her hand is still laying on a very sleepy Juliette. This might be as close to heaven as I’ll ever get, and I’m going to enjoy every second of it while I can.