Instead, what I’d received while out on the job was a frantic phone call with the first several seconds consisting of nothing but Arianna’s screaming. When she finally spoke, my heart was already pounding a mile-a-minute in my chest.
“Gio—I think it’s time. She’s coming! I gotta get to the hospital!” And then she descended into more screams as another contraction hit her. “Oh, my God! I think my water just broke!”
I swore. “Okay, I’m on my way.” But at that precise moment, I realized how far away from home I was and knew that if someone didn’t get to her soon, our child was likely to be born on the dining room carpet.
Fortunately, Arianna had called her parents too, and they had called her oldest brother, who was much closer and had managed to get her to the hospital that I was currently speeding
down the highway trying to get to.
When I reached the hospital, I had barely managed to park the car before jumping out and racing inside.
“My wife—she’s in labor! Where is she? Where is she?!” I yelled to the first desk.
“Okay, sir. Calm down,” the receptionist said. “Tell me your wife’s name.”
“Arianna Romano.”
Within minutes, I was running through the hospital to the maternity ward.
Immediately, I saw Dante Marino pacing the waiting room and halfway dressed in hospital scrubs. “Oh, thank God!” he said, looking close to fainting. He hurried toward me and clasped my hand. “Lord knows I didn’t want to go in there, bro.” He quickly began pulling off the scrubs and handed them over to me. “My folks are on the way.”
I nodded, struggling to put on the gear.
A door to one of the hospital rooms swung open, and screams I recognized as Arianna’s drifted out.
“Excuse me, are you the father?” a nurse asked, poking her head out through the door.
“Yes!”
“Come on in, Mr. Romano!” she said, hastily waving me forward.
I almost tripped over my own feet trying to rush into the room.
Arianna was on the hospital bed, prepped for delivery. Her face was scrunched in pain, and sweat dripped down her forehead. Yet, somehow, she managed to smile upon seeing me.
I hurried to her side, almost tripping again, and grabbed her hand. She proceeded to squeeze it. “Thank goodness you made it,” she said breathlessly. “Dante was about to faint.”
I clenched my teeth and refrained from telling her that I was about to faint too. I took a deep breath and pressed my forehead to hers. “It’s okay now, baby. I’m here.”
She proceeded to scream as another contraction hit, squeezing my hand for dear life.
The doctor walked in just in time. “Nice to see you, Mr. Romano. Let’s make you a father.”
* * *
Less than an hour later, a pink wiggly infant was in my arms. Arianna had made me believe in love at first sight, and now—my baby girl just solidified my belief.
I looked up at Arianna, who was in the hospital bed, tired but looking even more beautiful to me right then and there than she had at our wedding.
“She’s a beauty, just like her mama,” I said.
Arianna smiled. “I think she has your eyes though,” she said. “She opened them briefly for a moment while I was feeding her.”
I placed a gentle kiss on the top her head, which was adorned with silky black hair. I may have imagined it, but for an instant, I thought a saw a smile flicker across her tiny face.
It was at that moment that I realized no matter what kind of work I did for the family, I had now just gotten the hardest job I would ever have to do. Fatherhood. Yet, I was more than ready and couldn’t wait to experience every moment of it for the rest of my life. After all, I had to someday prepare this little beauty to inherit the Romano empire. The little girl in my arms was going to be the most powerful woman the Romano family had ever seen; I was going to see to that.
I returned my daughter to her mother’s arms, and then kissed Arianna, right as a knock on the door indicated that the new grandparents had made their way over, ready to see the newest family treasure.