We Are Not Like Them(79)

“You’re going to be a father today,” the doctor says to Kevin, with measured joy. Kevin lets go of my hand so he can take the doctor’s, who shakes it vigorously. The hand that Kevin released finds its way to my belly.

I’m going to be a mother today. It’s a prayer, more than a statement. I focus every fiber of my being on Chase, willing him to be okay with a fervor that borders on unhinged. I have never needed and will never need or want anything more desperately than this, and the simple clarity of that is overwhelming. If I get this, I will never ask for another thing as long as I live. It’s the purest promise I will ever make.

Even though Dr. Atunde calmly explains what’s going to happen next, there’s an unmistakable urgency in his voice too. “Jennifer, we’re concerned about the fetal heart rate. It’s too fast; your blood pressure is rising, and the labor isn’t progressing. We have to do an emergency C-section. We need to get this baby out of you as quickly as possible. I’m going to get washed up and I’ll see you up there. The anesthesiologist is ready for you. Any questions?”

Kevin shivers as he strokes my hair, murmuring over and over, “Jenny, it’s gonna be okay.” His breath, with the faintest trace of beer, is warm on my face. But then it’s Riley’s voice I think I hear calling my name. It comes again, louder, my full name. And then Riley is there, bursting through the curtain, standing right at my feet.

“You came.” I don’t entirely believe it.

“Oh Jenny, of course I came.” She rushes over and kisses me on my clammy forehead.

Kevin and Riley are in the same room. It’s a struggle to arrange this fact in my mind. Not even the same room, in the same claustrophobic space. I glance at the heart-rate monitor, worried it’ll spike and give away how tense this makes me.

Riley nods hello at Kevin and moves to the opposite side of my bed. He responds with an unmistakable hint of anger that’s quickly replaced with relief. He no longer has to deal with this alone.

“Are you okay?” Riley glances at the beeping monitor, where the squiggly lines build to a pointy mountain every seven minutes or so. “Is Chase okay?”

“Chase?” Kevin looks confused. He takes a step backward, as if he’s been physically pushed. “Wait. It’s a boy? She knew?” He seems to be trying to process these facts as Riley stands there completely stricken. This has the makings of a hilarious setup in some wacky sitcom, except that exactly nothing about our life is hilarious right now.

“It was an accident, Kevin. I found out by accident,” Riley explains, desperately looking to me for guidance.

I don’t have enough energy for this moment. I grab Kevin’s hand and hope that does what it’s supposed to do, says all the things I can’t summon, mainly that I’m sorry.

A balloon of tension grows until a slow grin starts to take over his face, deflating it just like that. “It’s a boy.” He says the words with a reverential joy, and even though I had nothing to do with this, it was all biology and fate and genes, I still feel like I’m giving him a gift.

“I thought it was a girl. I don’t know… but a boy. I wanted a boy,” Kevin says, positively giddy now, like he’s revealing his own secret, even though I knew perfectly well how badly he wanted a son.

Riley’s wide brown eyes blaze with concern when I turn to look at her.

“They have to cut him out of me, Rye.” My voice cracks. “It’s too early.”

She leans over so her face is inches from mine. She smells faintly of sweat and cocoa butter.

“It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. You’re strong. Chase is strong. You’ve got this.” She straightens up to look at Kevin. “You’ve both got this. Gigi would say, ‘Women been making babies since the beginning of babies. Our bodies know what to do. You know what to do.’?”

“No, I don’t know what to do. My body isn’t doing the right thing.”

“It is.” Riley places both of my hands between hers. Hers are bigger than mine. They always have been. We’d compare them when we were little, placing our palms against each other’s, checking to see how much longer Riley’s fingers stretched than mine. Then I’d flip Riley’s palm up to the sky and pretend I knew how to read her future in the fine lines etched into the skin. “Your life line is long. Look at this love line. You’re going to have three great loves in your life and four babies and a mansion in Miami on the beach.” Now, Riley’s long fingers wrap around mine, a lifeline.

“Do you think he’s scared? Chase?” The question is ridiculous, but it’s what I want to know.

Both Kevin and Riley speak at the same time. “No. No. He isn’t scared. He doesn’t know what’s happening.”

I stare straight up at the ceiling. “I’m scared, you guys.”

“You’ll be fine. You’re going to do great,” Riley reassures me again.

“Hi, Momma, how about we get this baby out?” another nurse asks as she comes in and starts to unplug and unhook with ruthless efficiency.

“It’s a boy,” I blurt. “It’s a boy, and his name is Chase. Can we please use his name?” In case the worst happens, I need everyone to call him by his name, like he’s a real person in the world. He exists.