A baby. There was a baby here. Lia has a baby.
Those words went through my head back and forth, on repeat, taking up reality.
The next thing that moved through my shock was pure jealousy, followed by a murderous rage to hunt down whoever had gotten her pregnant and tear their balls from their body before I fed them to him.
When I lifted my head and stared at Lia, I saw she’d taken that little blue blanket—which I now assumed might be a burp cloth of some kind—and started to wring it in her hands. She was watching me with a guarded expression, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip, her chest rising and falling as she breathed in and out hard.
I opened my mouth and closed it, not sure what to say, but it didn’t matter because no words came out.
Then the sound of a tiny little human came through from the bedroom. My heart jerked in my chest and my throat tightened. She glanced over her shoulder at the bedroom, then back at me, the wailing tapering off before picking up again even harder.
“I have to get him. I’ll be right back and we can… talk.”
I found my way stumbling over to the couch, my body falling down onto it, my foot bumping into that little woven basket with the baby stuff in it. I reached down and ran my finger over the tops of the diapers and along the soft blankets, then straightened.
My hands shook and I curled them into themselves to try and stop it.
And then Lia stepped back out into the living room and as I stared at her holding that tiny little baby in her arms, I swore the world opened up and swallowed me whole.
9
Lia
This certainly wasn’t how I saw telling Jameson about the baby situation. But life really did like to give you surprises, and as I looked down at my son, truer words had never been spoken.
The only place for me to sit was on the couch, but I left a cushion between us, thinking maybe he needed a little bit of room… some space because of this bomb I just dropped.
I knew I would have if the roles had been reversed.
The way he looked at me before glancing down at the baby, then back at me, told me all sorts of conclusions were popping up in his head. I wanted to just come out and tell him the truth, open myself up bare, let the chips fall where they may, but I was tongue-tied, scared of the fallout, afraid he’d be upset with me.
I exhaled slowly and adjusted the baby in my arms. I glanced down again at my son, seeing a tiny Jameson reflected back at me. He looked so much like the man I loved it was shocking. When I lifted my head to stare at Jameson once more, I cleared my throat, figuring I might as well just open this wound and bleed dry.
“You have a baby, Lia,” Jameson said before I could get any words out.
I had your baby.
Of course I kept that to myself at this very moment.
I cleared my throat again and nodded slowly. “He’s... he’s a couple of weeks old.” I felt myself smile in genuine love and happiness. I remembered everything that had transpired from the time I’d given myself to Jameson that night all those months ago to this exact moment now where he was back in my life and there was this tiny human that we’d created together in my arms. “His name is Caleb.” I let those words hang between us as I looked into Jameson's so very blue eyes, hoping he would understand the significance of that.
Jameson blinked a few times and stared down at Caleb, maybe not processing what I said fully yet. The blanket obstructed little Caleb's face, and I pulled it down more, letting Jameson see the dark tuft of hair that covered his head. I shifted on the couch so that Jameson could get a better look at the baby.
His son.
“His name is Caleb?” The way he spoke was low, as if he said the words almost to himself.
I nodded again, so much emotion clogging my body that I couldn’t think clearly, couldn’t focus on anything. Everything was running through my mind at hyper-speed; nervousness and anticipation, excitement and hesitation all waging war inside of me.
“That’s my middle name, Lia.” He looked at me now with wide, shocked eyes.
I ran my free palm up and down my thigh, my hand shaking before I lifted it back up and cupped the baby’s bottom.
“I… I named him…” God, get the words out. But I was all but shaking, and it was only when I felt Jameson place a hand on my knee, easing me, calming me further, that I took a deep breath and just finished saying what needed to be said. “I named him after his father.”