So I made notes to call my financial planner to talk about money, as well as my insurance person to talk about upping my life insurance. Football is a dangerous game so I’ve already had a will drawn up, but now I need to get with my lawyer to changethat around. I also made notes about items to look up in terms of strollers, cribs, and everything else baby that I don’t know anything about. Oh, and of course preschools. My kid is going to be whatever they want to be, and it’s going to start off by making sure they’re in the best preschool in the area.
Am I ready to be a father? Who the hell knows. Probably not. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try my damndest. Because like so many other times in my life, I’m going to do the exact opposite of what my father did.
“I need to start off by apologizing,” Gabi says as we take a seat on her couch. I sit next to her, putting my phone and keys on her coffee table. “I knew I needed to think, and thank you so much for giving me that space. But I shouldn’t have gone radio silent for that long. That wasn’t fair to you.”
“Thank you, but you don't need to apologize. It was good for me to think too.” I take the chance of reaching out and taking hold of her hand. Thank fuck she not only accepts my touch, but intertwines our fingers together. “How are you feeling? Are you okay? Have you been getting any sleep?”
“I’ve been hanging in there,” she says. “Nausea comes and goes all during the day. It’s been pretty constant, but that’s been the worst part. Luckily, no one at work has noticed my frequent bathroom trips, but I don’t know how much longer that’s going to hold up.”
“I’m going to guess Phyllis and Kitty know, but they’re probably waiting to see when you’ll spill the beans. After another week when you don’t, Phyllis is going to say something out of pocket and then Kitty’s going to come clean.”
Her smile is what my soul needs right now. “You’re right. And then they’re going to start knitting baby blankets at the bakery and pick out their grandma names.”
I smile at the thought, but then it hits me that she’s talking in future terms. I don’t want to ask the question, and I’m ninety-nine percent sure I know the answer, but I need to hear it for myself.
“So…you’re…we’re…”
“Yes, I’m keeping it,” she says, pushing back a stray tear as I do my best not to be obvious about the huge breath I let out. “Back when I was married, I’d always wanted a family.”
“Let me guess, the asshole gave you a million reasons why not to have a kid.”
“A million and two, to be exact.”
Gabi pauses for a second, which gives me an opportunity to bring her a little closer. Not too much that I’m invading her space, but enough for her to know that I’m here for her. However she wants me to be.
“I’m not going to lie to you,” she continues. “I’m petrified. This was also the last thing I had on my post-divorce bucket list. And it’s one of a million things in my life that have happened unplanned. But at the end of the day, this is something I had wanted. That I do want. And even though I’m terrified, scared, freaked out and everything in between, I want this. I want this baby.”
I have no words. For a guy who’s been voted most talkative in every classroom and locker room I’ve ever been in, I don’t have the words to express the joy, and relief, that is running through me right now.
So I show her in the best way I know how.
I take her face in my hands and pull her to me, kissing her with every excited, nervous, ecstatic, hopeful emotion I have in my body. I can’t hold back my own tears, and I don’t try to. In fact, there’s something poetic about knowing she’s crying as well, and feeling each drop of our emotions as they roll down our cheeks.
“Maddox…you’re crying. Do you not want…? I know we didn’t get to that part yet, but I want you to know, if you don’twant this—the baby or me or anything—I don’t want to force you or expect?—”
She lets out a yelp as I scoop her into my arms, placing her firmly on my lap. “Oh no, Gabrielle, these are the happiest tears you’ll ever see. You and me? Having a baby? I don’t know how I could be more happy than at this moment.”
I pull her into me again, our lips locking in what might be the most truly happy kiss I’ve ever experienced in my life. I didn’t know kisses could be happy. Hot? Sure. Sexy? Without a doubt. Needy? More often than not. But happy? This is a new one.
One I want to experience every day for the rest of my life.
“What are we doing?” she asks as we pull away, our foreheads resting against each other’s.
“Apparently, having a baby.”
She pulls away slightly, enough so our eyes can lock after my apparent bad joke. “Aren’t you scared? Why don’t you seem scared?”
“Of course I am. Every fear and emotion you said earlier, I’m those times a thousand. Plus add in a little childhood trauma for an additional kick.”
Gabi doesn’t laugh at my self-deprecating joke, but her hand runs softly down my cheek. I lean into it, trying to will it into giving me the strength to tell her everything—and every fear—in my mind.
“I’m so scared, Gabi, of so many things. Am I ready? I mean, I have to be, but am I? I don’t know. I had to Google last week how to set the clock on my microwave. That doesn’t sound like a guy who’s ready to raise a human.” That pulls a little chuckle from her, so that’s progress. And I hold onto it with everything I have as I spill my guts to her. “But I sucked it up and I did what I do best—I went to the store, bought twenty notebooks, and started writing down my plans. Everything I need to do now that I’mabout to become a father. I don’t know shit about shit, but I have roughly thirty-four weeks to get my act together.”
“Because I want to be there for you. I know I’m going to be there for you. But there’s this voice in my head reminding me I’mhisson, and I’m going to get scared and leave. I promise you, I’m fighting it. Every day. Because I’m scared shitless of becoming my father, and I don’t want to be anything like him.
“So yes, I’m scared. Terrified is probably a better word. But I am going to be ready. I’m going to be here. The best partner and father I can be. There’s going to be a million and a half things to worry about until November first, but none of those are going to be whether or not I’m in this with you. Because I’m in, Gabi. I’m all in.”
Her blinking picks up, and while I think I delivered one hell of a monologue, her curious look is making me wonder what I said wrong.
