I had begun to develop jealous tendencies concerning Rayna and it was so out of character for me. I couldn't place the reasons behind it and that was killing me. The thought of Rayna being with another man caused my blood to rush heatedly through my veins. Prior to last night, those thoughts were distant nightmares but Thompson's presence in the picture made the nightmares my reality. The last thing I needed was a man, who could give her a blemish-free future without the illegal baggage I carried, coming in and sweeping her off her feet.
“Yo, Duke, you look nervous back there. You good?” Petey’s calling out from the front seat snapped me out of my deep rumination.
I knew he was referring to Tara’s baby and the possibility that it was mine. Truth be told, I hadn’t given thought to it since Rayna learned about Tara’s pregnancy, when she all but left because of the mere possibility of me being a father. That’s how confident I was about the paternity. The only thing that concerned me previously was Rayna learning about it and once that cat was out of the bag my trepidations vanished.
“Nah, Crack.” I couldn't fight my introspection as I sat alone in the back of the 750Li and endured Wop’s chancy driving. He kept bobbing in and out of lanes.
I knew the baby wasn't mine. As callous as that sounds it was the truth. I hadn't slept with Tara in nearly a year and the last I checked it took ten months to produce and incubate a baby. She was off my stick about a month and some change before getting knocked up.
We arrived at Labor and Delivery and was directed to the waiting room where we found her cousin, Stephanie, and several other friends and family.
“Oh my god, Azmir! You've made it!” Stephanie shrieked with panic in her eyes, running over to hug me.
“How is she?” I asked.
“We don't know much about her yet. They had to take the baby via Caesarian section. Her blood cell count had already been very low and she lost so much blood that the doctor had to give her a transfusion. I'm just so happy that you're here.” She damn near sobbed in my arm.
That’s when I saw Big D appear from behind the doors wearing scrubs. Did he help deliver the baby? His eyes were large and red as he sauntered over to the waiting party. His scowling of me was searing. I knew we’d have to address this at some point. I just wondered how soon now that the baby was here.
“How are things with her?” I asked once he arrived over to me.
“We tried calling and texting you. After failed attempts I called Petey. Were you indisposed?” Big D was being coy. He saw me standing there in a suit. It was clear that I had been working.
“My phone died last night and was forgotten while charging in my office. I attended my staff downstairs when I missed the calls.” Sufficient enough of an answer without giving him my life story.
He shook his head. “Ready to go back and see them?” His voice was low and calm, revealing his distressful state.
I’d quickly thought about how precarious this situation was. I nodded and glanced over to Petey who regarded me stoically in return, but gave a slight nod. I followed Big D back to her room and once we got to the nurses’ station of her floor I had to suit up in scrubs as the baby was in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. I didn’t ask any questions, though a few bounced through my head.
We entered a room where I saw nearly a dozen tiny newborns resting in incubators, some smaller than others. Many of them could fit in the palm of my hand. I followed D to one that had a pink card on it designed for a girl with the name A. Jacobs handwritten on it. Naturally it arrested my attention, almost like a punch to the gut.
Big D’s eyes rested on the pint-sized baby who had a tube running into her nose and bore a couple of bruises that I was later told happened during delivery. She laid there peacefully, resting on her back with her hands clawed. I observed her knitted pink hat covering her head and her miniature pamper. She looked so helpless and...precious.
So this is what parents experience while looking at their newborns. My mind jumped to Rayna and if she’d be overwhelmingly protective of our child had we ever been fortunate enough to deliver. Me a father? I can’t wait. Rayna would make a great mom and could show me how to care for a baby.
“Little miracle, huhn?”
Huhn?