Amelia
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I’m in the library trying to settle into a book, but I can’t focus. It was a rough month for April, the weather was shit in Chicago and throughout the Midwest. There haven’t been so many games postponed in over a decade. May is slowly looking better. While Chris spent more time in Chicago, which was nice, and he’ll be home for an eight-day stretch when he gets back from St. Louis in two days, he’ll have to play eleven games in ten days by the end of the month. Then to top it off we had the kitchen remodel while he was stuck inside. For three days we didn’t have a sink or stove yet he never got cranky. We ate out a lot, we hid in the bedroom and we made love often. I never thought the remodel would go fast and so smoothly but it’s done.
He left yesterday to play in St. Louis tonight. I wanted to go with him, but Holly is due any day and I don’t want to be away from her and Ethan. Even though he wasn’t happy, Chris understood.
I consider calling Catherine to check on her. Talking to her is so much fun, every time she has something different to tell me about Chris when he was younger. Her love for him is so clear. It was really disappointing when she canceled her visit to Phoenix because of the death of her best friend the day before she was due to fly out. However, she promised Chris with her friend passing there wasn’t really much left for her in Dallas, and once the season was over she would be happy to move to Chicago. The plan is for her to come out and visit in the first week of June when Chris will be in town. We’ll make plans then for her moving up.
I’m fighting the urge not to go check on the men working in the backyard again. I was shocked when I woke up two weeks ago to jackhammers. For some crazy reason I thought it was our kitchen remodel hitting a snag. And they knew not to start working before ten o’clock it was completely rude and we would look like the asshole who hired them to start before ten in the morning. Chris laughed and said sorry, but if I wanted a pool there was a price to pay. I’d run downstairs to look out the back door and see them tearing up our backyard.
Chris had purchased the house behind us, so he could have enough room for an in-ground heated pool to be built with a large glass enclosure, with doors like the ones leading out to the backyard in the house we rented in Scottsdale.
When he showed me the plans, I had a hard time not crying. Then he hugged me close as he whispered he loved seeing me happy playing in the pool in Arizona. He didn’t want to go another day without seeing me that happy again. I’m still stunned he bought a million-dollar house just for the backyard. When I asked him what he was going to do with the house, he said if Catherine liked it then it would be hers, and if not then he would figure it out later.
I couldn’t hold back my tears. They didn’t last long, though, when Chris asked if it had earned him getting his cock sucked on a daily basis. Laughing, I told him it did as I led him back upstairs and pushed him down to deliver. It was like Regina said, Chris was willing to give me anything I wanted, even when I didn’t ask for it. Would that include his heart, and forever?
The doorbell rings, startling me. I look down at Chris’s oversized shirt I’m wearing to keep him close while he’s away and my yoga pants. I’m not wearing a bra though. Peeking out the door I see it’s a woman holding a baby carrier. It’s cool out today. I whip open the door, not wanting her or the baby to get cold.
She’s very pretty, small, curvy; she appears Hispanic, her dark black hair in a pixie cut. The baby is tightly covered with a blanket. “You Amelia Bishop.”
It’s not a question, but I nod anyway. “Yes?”
“This is Simone Baldwin. She’s Chris’s baby. He needs to step up to his responsibilities. You all can see what it’s like taking care of a baby with no help. You all got a week, take that time, do your stupid little tests, then you all decide. I’m getting my money. You all want to keep her, it’s fine with me, but there’s a price and it’s high. You don’t want to keep her, then you all will be paying for it for the next eighteen years while she gets the life she shoulda got.” She sets the baby inside the doorway, then walks away without another word.
Baby? Chris’s baby? What the fuck? I clutch my stomach as it spins hard. The world blurs at the tears from the pain that spreads through my entire body. The carrier moves, and a weak cry comes from beneath the covers. I’m down on my knees, carefully pulling the blanket away. Bright blue eyes stare up at me through long lashes, no, then I take in her chin and the dimple in one cheek. It’s Chris’s. He has a baby.
A gust of wind blows through the open door, and the baby shivers. On autopilot I close the door then pick up the carrier, taking it into the office and putting it on the ottoman. Aren’t babies supposed to be happier or fussier? She’s just sitting in the carrier, looking at me as if she’s trying to figure out who I am. She doesn’t look like she expects to be picked up, although she doesn’t really look happy in the carrier.
I’ve never really been a baby person for the simple reason I wasn’t around them very much. Since I started working with the legal clinic over the last two years I’ve had more interaction with them, and I found out I adore holding babies, the chunkier the better. Their soft little bodies snuggling up to you, the smell of them, the feel of their downy soft hair. The gummy little smiles they give you when you tell them how cute they are.
This baby..., Simone, her name is Simone. Simone isn’t smiling, she isn’t chubby. I remember vividly one woman I helped in the legal clinic saying she didn’t trust mothers who didn’t have chubby, happy babies. All babies should be chubby, then as they moved around and got older the baby fat fell away, she explained at my surprise. Simone is pretty darn thin, and she definitely doesn’t look happy. Unease builds inside me as I study her.
An urge I can’t suppress has me reaching out to touch her cheek. She flinches, and my stomach turns. No, no fucking way did she flinch from a touch. As I process the meaning behind the movement, tears flow fast and hard. The pretty woman had hard, empty eyes. Her casual way of saying we could keep Simone haunts me, as if the baby was nothing more than an item to be bartered instead of a living, breathing human being.
I snatch my phone up, but I don’t call Chris, I don’t call Holly, or even Ethan. I call Angie, the stripper, who took me under her wing the night in the club. It’s only two in the afternoon, and she answers right away. “Hey, Amelia, how are you doing?”
My eyes on the baby, I swallow. “I’ve been better. I was wondering, Chris mentioned an incident with a stripper, I have to assume it was at your club. He said she tried to set up him up to get her pregnant. Do you know anything about that?”
She sighs. “Yeah, that’s Triana, Triana isn’t her real name though, it’s Theresa Kirby. She came out to Chicago from, I think, Laurel Park, Maryland with a boyfriend who promised her the world then dumped her when she got knocked up. After the abortion she ended up here, trying to get enough money to go home.” I’m up grabbing a pen and a notebook and taking notes. “The thing she pulled with Chris wasn’t the first time she did it. Another stripper, Candice, pulled it once on a basketball player, get yourself knocked up then make them pay for the abortion. It got Candice fired.
“Theresa pulled it, she got twenty-five thousand. She tried it again, the guy wouldn’t pay, said he was happy to have another kid. Theresa didn’t want a kid, so she paid for the abortion on her own. She ended up talking to Candice, who told Theresa she would make more money in the long run by keeping the baby and getting paid for eighteen years instead of just one. After the thing with Chris didn’t work, Theresa left town, her parents paid to send her a ticket back home.”
“Thank, I appreciate it.”
“Everything okay?”
“It will be.” The minute I hang up I make another call, to Diego Valdez, the best security specialist in the country. His people can find out everything there is to know about a person, not all of it obtained legally. Right now it’s a perfect fit. I tell him what I need, and that I need it in less than a week. He assures me I’ll have it.
Ending the call, I turn my attention back to Simone. She’s still quiet, yet there’s no peace to her. There’s a tension in her tiny body I don’t believe should ever be in a baby. Carefully, I undo the straps of the carrier then lift her up in my arms. She is incredibly light. I hold her close, but she doesn’t melt into me, she’s stiff as if she’s not used to being held. Tears fall as I wonder what it’s like as a baby to not used to being held. My nanny adored me, told me my parents ordered her not to hold me so often as a baby and she told them they could let her do what she was hired to do or she quit. I’m not sure how long I hold Simone before she gives in and lays her small head on my chest. A little sigh, a tiny whisper of sound comes out of her as she snuggles into me. Well fuck, it seems only right I’d fall for her as easily as I did her father.
I’m not sure how long I hold her, it feels like hours. Gradually, I realize her bottom is wet. She’s soaked through the diaper she’s wearing. I know it’s not there, but I’m up checking the hallway. There’s no diaper bag. What the hell?
As much as I want to call Chris, I don’t. If I do he’ll come rushing back, and as badly as I want him to, right now there are too many unknown variables that make him coming back and missing games a waste of time. The only thing I know for sure is no matter what, Triana or Theresa or whatever her name is isn’t getting this baby back. I don’t care what I have to do or how much money she wants, I will never hand over Simone to her. I wouldn’t hand over a feral rat to the woman’s keeping. I sure as hell won’t do it with my baby.
Woah. I catch my breath. As I hold her tighter, though, it feels right, it’s true. My immediate connection to her makes no sense, but I am already completely and utterly in love with her. She is a part of the man I love, it makes total sense to love her as much as I love him.
I pick up the phone and call the only person I can think of who can help me right now: Barbara, Holly’s mom. I’m having a hard time not blurting it out on the phone, but I just ask her to come over, I need help. She doesn’t ask any questions, telling me she’ll be right over. True to her word, she knocks on the door only fifteen minutes later.
When I open the door she smiles. “Ah, what a cutie. Is this who you need help with?”
“Yes, the birth mother just dropped her off with what she’s wearing and a carrier. She is Chris’s daughter, and from the math she’s about six months old. I don’t know anything about babies this little. I’m going to throw myself on your mercy and ask you to help me get everything she needs.”
Barbara’s eyes go wide then she nods. “Okay. Get your credit card, sweetie, we’re about to do some damage.”
We start at the closest Jewel for diapers, wipes, some bottles, formula, a new onesie, and a new diaper bag. Once the baby is changed, dressed, and offered a bottle, she takes it immediately but stops after only a few ounces as if she’s tired from eating. I’m wondering if it’s normal when I see Barbara with the same confused expression on her face.
“Can I see her?” Barbara asks.
I hand her over then am immediately struck by a sense of loss that she’s not in my arms. “What? It’s weird, right? How hungry she was then how quickly she stopped eating?”
“Yes.” Barbara holds Simone’s hands, then runs her hand down the tiny body before taking ahold of a small foot. “I think you need to get her into the doctor. Her hands and feet are cold, which means her circulation isn’t very good. Which kind of explains why she got tired eating. Why her circulation is bad is what worries me.”
A few minutes on my phone and I have the best pediatrician in the city on the line. They tell me they aren’t accepting patients, then I give them my name and Chris’s name and they have an opening tomorrow at eight when the office opens. With an appointment set, we bundle into an Uber to take us to Bloomingdales.
“You know we can get everything just as good and inexpensively at Target.”
“Barbara, if I don’t shop at Target for me, I’m not shopping there for my daughter.”
She shrugs as she smiles, then checks on the baby. “You are going to be the most stylish baby on the block,” she whispers to Simone.
You better believe it, I think as the car turns along Lakeshore Drive.
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Four hours later I’m putting Simone down in the Moses basket I couldn’t put back the moment I saw it. There’s an insanely expensive crib upstairs I paid a fortune to have put together. I know she should go in the crib, only I don’t want her out of my sight. There’s also a video monitor upstairs I got to enable me not to let her out of my sight, yet I still don’t want to put her up there.
Heck, I have to learn not to curse around her. I’m not happy at the idea of her not in my arms. My stomach demands it, though. I need to make some dinner. I’m also going to take Barbara’s advice of putting some bottles together ahead of time. Simone frowns with a sad little sigh as I put her down. Me too, baby girl.
“I know, sweetie, give me a few minutes. Okay? I have to get some food.” Her little head tilts as if she’s surprised I’m talking to her. I take a deep breath, no more crying. No, no way in heck is Simone going anywhere. She’s taken a bottle twice more, and each time her first sucks are as if she were starving. However, she only gets a few ounces before giving up.
Barbara left only ten minutes ago after helping me buy everything Simone could possibly need for her first year. There’s a high chair in the corner of the kitchen. A baby bathtub drying, from when Barbara walked me through how to give Simone a bath. There are about twenty bottles in the cupboard, ten different pacifiers on the counter, six different types of formula and her own little section for sippy cups, baby plates, and silverware, and bibs in the drawer.
I’m finishing my dinner and watching Simone settle into sleep when the doorbell sounds. It’s Ethan. His eyes widen when he sees me. “It’s true?”
I nod, then walk him back to the kitchen. “Quiet, she’s sleeping.”
Ethan stares down on her, and his face softens. “Fuck, she is his.”
“Yeah, you should see her eyes. I know we’ll need to do DNA testing, but the woman knew we would. She told us without a worry it would come back showing him the father. I’m telling you right now, Ethan, I’ll fight till death, the woman isn’t getting her back.
She left her baby in the doorway as if she was leaving trash behind for someone else to throw away. She said we can keep her but we have to pay. If we don’t keep her than she wants eighteen years of payments. I don’t care if she isn’t Chris’s, I’m not handing her back over to that woman.
“Simone acts like she doesn’t know what it’s like to be held. Then—” I fight not to cry. “I went to touch her and she flinched, Ethan. She flinched as if I was going to hit her. She’s just a baby. How the hell does she even have that as a muscle memory?”
He hugs me tight, rubbing my back soothingly. “It’s going to be all right. She’ll never know that fear again. I’ll make sure the bitch won’t ever get close to her.”
I cling to him, believing every word. “I know. I’ll need your help, but this is my fight. Simone is mine and it’s up to me to keep her safe. I called Valdez, discovery. He’s on it.”
Ethan nods then pulls out his pocket square, mopping me up. “Good, once we have it we’ll be better prepared. When is Chris due back? What did he say?”
“He’ll be back the day after tomorrow. I haven’t told him yet.”
He squeezes his eyes shut. “Fucking hell, you can’t keep this from him. He has a right to know what is going on.”
“He will, just not yet. What exactly is there for him to do except sit here and worry? Tomorrow, I take Simone to the doctor. Once we get there I’ll let them know she’ll need a DNA test. It will take a few days, and we still need to get the information back from Valdez. Until we do there’s nothing anyone can do.”
“He will not thank you for keeping this from him.”
“I know he won’t. It’s my decision to make.”
Shaking his head, he sighs. “Holly is dying to see the baby. After the doctor’s appointment can you go visit her?”
“Yes, I’ll be happy to.”
With a kiss to my forehead and a last look at Simone, he’s gone. I check the clock, the game is about to start. I clean up the kitchen, pop some popcorn so I don’t have to come back down when the munchies start, then carry Simone upstairs to the third floor to watch the game.
She’s alert after her small nap. I notice she only sleeps an hour or two at a time. Once we’re upstairs I keep a running commentary of the game while I hold her. She finds the game as interesting as I used to before there was Chris to focus on then falls asleep halfway through.
When Chris calls I’ve just given in to putting Simone down in her crib for the night and am staring at the video monitor.
I take a deep breath as I answer. “Hey, honey, good game.”
“Was it? We lost, sugar, I’m not calling it a good game.” He snorts.
“You played great, three more RBIs. I’m calling it a good game.”
“If you say so. What did you do today?”
Why do I remember the promise not to lie from all those months ago now? If I lie to him now, he might never forgive me. There’s no such thing as avoiding this answer. “I love you. Have I told you that? I tried not to. I knew you probably didn’t want to hear it when you were trying to talk me into fun and a fuck, but I knew it even then. Does it count as a lie if I never told you? You never asked if I did.”
“You’re killing me, you know that. Why are you doing this to me when I can’t reach out and pull you into my arms? When I can’t show you how much I love you. Why?”
“I need you to trust me and stay in St. Louis and do your job.”
“What’s going on, Amelia?”
“Promise me you’ll stay in St. Louis.”
“No, I’m not promising you shit. Tell me what is going on.”
Taking a deep breath, I clench my eyes tight. “The stripper who tried to set you up...she did. She dropped off a baby today, as if she were dropping off lost luggage. She’s beautiful, she has your eyes, your chin, a dimple in her cheek and your lips. Her name is Simone and I’m in love with her just as deeply as I’m in love with you. We’re keeping her, even if somehow, some way, she isn’t yours. That bitch who dropped her off is never getting her back.”
Stunned silence. “I’ll be home soon,” he says, then he hangs up.