I used a condom. What are the fucking chances that I would fall into the one percent where protection actually fails?
A father? I never gave much thought to the title. Never had one to learn from, and now I have a daughter. A two-month old daughter who is currently sleeping soundly in her baby carrier while I attend a court hearing.
“Mr. Drayton, you were notified yesterday of your legal paternity. DCFS has agreed to place the child in question, Wren Drayton, in your custody. Are you prepared to address custody today?”
I force in a deep breath before facing the judge head-on, “Yes, sir. I just found out I had a daughter yesterday but yes, Your Honor…I’m prepared.”
The judge nods before turning back to his papers. “This court is concerned about the child’s welfare. The child was dropped off at a safe haven location yesterday with a handwritten letter and a birth certificate naming Mr. Jax Drayton as the baby’s father. The content of the letter details that the mother wishes not to be contacted about anything concerning the child. The law, however, states that she has a period of thirty days in which she can change her mind and regain custody. If that does not happen, and the father does not agree to take custody, the child will be placed into foster care.”
My head whips around to look at the judge and I experience the first emotion I’ve felt for the woman whose name I only know from reading Wren’s birth certificate.
“I see you have a problem with that, Mr. Drayton,” the judge says. “Do you have any experience in caring for a minor?”
“No, sir. Not until yesterday, but I can learn. I’ll keepmy daughter.”
If those last two words are spoken with a hint of steeliness, then it’s because I’m determined to be the one to take care of my daughter. My brother and I were raised in the system and I experienced firsthand what foster care does to a child who believes themselves unwanted. I turned out alright, all things considered, but my brother…
“I have a whole community of people willing to help, Your Honor. Women with children of their own to offer guidance. Wren is not alone.”
The judge nods. “Intent is not enough. You will be under supervision, weekly check-ins,” he says firmly. “The child stays with you temporarily while we evaluate long-term placement. All this is pending the DNA test results to determine paternity. Do you understand, Mr. Drayton?”
“I understand.”
I have so many questions, but they’re not ones a judge can answer so I keep them to myself as I try to process everything that’s happened in the last twelve hours. Paternity, despite all the circumstances surrounding it, was never a question for me. The second I saw her tiny face and those blue eyes staring up at me, I knew Wren was mine.
Mine to raise and protect. Mine to love.
Whatever happens in the future, I’m keeping her.
I give my address and write down the date for the first check-in. After the court case, grateful that Wren is still asleep, I make a call to my boss to request emergency family leave. I figure it’s going to take a shit ton of processing before it’sgranted, but surprisingly, it doesn’t take much once I offer the court documents.
Saint told me not to worry about getting any kind of supplies, that the women would take care of that for me. Hoping that means they have some diapers and maybe a few changes of clothes, I grab tightly to the handle of Wren’s carrier and head back to my apartment.
There’s a sense of nerves I haven’t felt in years when I step into my building with my daughter for the first time. She’s been sleeping for most of the time she’s known me so far, and cared for by others during court, but soon it’ll be just us two.
At the ding of the opening elevator doors, she stirs slightly, opening sleepy eyes.
“We’ll be alright, sweetheart,” I whisper to her in the silence of the elevator as we ascend, stroking her face gently. She blinks sleepily at me and grabs my finger in a tiny fist, making my heart constrict. I’ve only just met this little girl, and already I know I would burn the world for her.
With a sigh, I let myself into my apartment. I’m hit with a wave of pink, nearly tripping on a stroller parked near the door. At first, I’m convinced that I’ve entered the wrong apartment. I take a step outside to confirm that this is indeed my place before stepping back in.
The place has been completely transformed. The sharp corners of the coffee table are now covered in thick, squishy-looking materials. The electric outlets, once exposed, are now sealed with covers. My living room rug is adorned with a fluffy, pastel-colored playmat, and the art pieces I brought with me from Texas are now hidden behind a protective plastic screen.
“What is all this?” I ask when I finally find my voice.
“Surprise!” Jade, who’s standing by the window, turns and greets me, immediately bending down to coo at Wren. There’s another woman in the kitchen and I spot another coming out of my second bedroom. I haven’t had a single woman in my apartment since I moved, let alone three. “We turned the second bedroom into a nursery and made the rest of the space baby proof.”
As the three women bend over the carrier to smile at my daughter, I walk further into the living room, staring wide-eyed at my bachelor pad which has been turned into a playpen. My leather sofa is draped with a pink cover and a mountain of plush, brightly colored toys. The windows that open up to the distant view of beautiful Lake Michigan are covered with blackout curtains. A mobile dangles smiling stars from the ceiling, and a small pink bassinet is tucked neatly in the corner.
“You did all this…in three hours?”
Jade nods. “The ladies came together to get everything. Some went shopping to get the necessities and others focused on the decorations. You should have everything you need for the baby for the next couple of weeks.” She smiles sympathetically at my look of awe and possibly fear. “We got a baby monitor and set up a changing station in the nursery. There’s a basket of baby clothes so you don’t have to worry about wrapping her in old T-shirts like they do in movies.” She laughs at her own joke. “Anyway, she’s too small for baby food so we stocked your cupboard with formula and detailed instructions on how and when to feed her. Everything is labeled but of course, you can always call any of us if you need help.”
I’m floored. Completely and utterly floored.
I was right. The Steel Rebels are no different from the Steel Order MC. It’s not just a motorcycle club, it’s a family.
“Thank you,” I say, the words choking me as I realize that I actually meant the words I said to the judge. Wren does have an entire community behind her. “I don’t know how to thank you all. For all this. Please send me the bill, and I’ll cover the cost for everything—”
