Together, the three of us all urged Baby Whitlock to come. In between contractions she’d glare at Tate or me, occasionally trying to talk. I think it was her way of keeping her mind off the pain.
“Do you want kids?” she asked me. I blinked. What? “I mean, like more kids. With you and him,” she shot a look of disgust at Tate. Tate looked unsure of how to help me. I swallowed.
“Can we focus on this one first?” I chuckled nervously. She rolled her eyes and just then another contraction came. I thanked the powers that be they shut her up. When it passed, she looked over at Tate and snapped at him.
“Get out.”
“What? Why? I told you I’d be here,” he protested but she was practically foaming at the mouth. She had been trying to push for almost two hours now and it seemed like she was no closer than she was before they wheeled her in. Her entire body was covered in sweat and her long hair wild with stress.
“Call your parents or something. I don’t want to see you right now. I hate you.”
Tate took a step away from the bed and shook his head, putting his hands up in innocence.
“Feeling’s mutual,” he said as he turned and stormed out of the room. Only when the door swung closed did she turn to me with large, bright eyes.
“Good. You and I need to talk.”
My eyes shot back to the door as I straightened quickly. Her words were like a jolt to my nervous system. I didn’t want to talk.
“Whitley, I’m so-” I started but she gave me a look of disgust.
“Ugh, enough. I’m not interested in Tate. You can have him. Seriously. We would have been horrible together. Woman to woman, do you want kids? With Tate, you and him. Not this one, more.” She squeezed my hand tighter, almost as if she was sincerely trying to break something.
I shook my head, growing exhausted of her nonsense.
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead. I literally decided today that I was in.”
“He told me you want to adopt it. The baby,” she gasped as the pain washed over her again. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. I watched her swallow before speaking again. “Thank you.”
I didn’t reply. I wasn’t even sure how to take it. Why was she thanking me? A few more attempts at pushing went by before she spoke again.
“You two should have some of your own. You’ll make cute kids. I hope this one looks like him. Maybe not the bright hair though. But those eyes. I almost want to stick around just long enough to see if they’ll have his eyes.”
“What do you mean? Aren’t you going to be here for a few days?”
She looked up at me pointedly, like I was missing something.
“Once it comes out, it’s all yours. Tate said he’d keep the baby, so now it’s his. I’m on the next flight back home. I don’t know if I’ll see you guys after we’re done in here, but I wanted to give you my blessing, I guess. Love this baby like your own, they’ll never know the difference.”
“Okay dear, I think you’re close enough. Baby is coming. Are you ready?” A nurse interrupted our conversation. We both turned.
“Fuck yes. Someone want to go grab Tate? He’ll probably want to be here,” she smirked. I rolled my eyes. My stomach lurched as I was asked to step back to let the doctor and nurses do their jobs. Tate returned and stood next to me. We made a point to remain near her head.
Time stopped and flew by all at the same time. As I stood holding Tate’s hand almost as tight as Whitley had held onto mine earlier, we watched a baby be born.
There was a long pause after the blood covered wiggly mess was lifted up. We all waited anxiously for it to make its first cry, and when it finally did the room relaxed and rejoiced.
“Dad, you want to come over here while we finish up?”
Tate stiffened. He didn’t move for a moment. I had to urge him forward. He moved mechanically towards the nurse. She held the now wrapped up infant towards him and he took it, almost unsure of how to do it. I watched his face intently as he stared down at his... daughter? I hadn’t gotten a good look through the goop.They hadn’t said anything regarding the gender, but I realized that was probably per Whitley’s request.
A moment later the rest of the delivery process finished and Tate was asked to cut the cord.
“Why not have her do it?” Whitley asked, her eyes closed. She was resting, her entire body deflated into the bed. The staff who assisted the delivery all turned towards me. My eyes widened with surprise. Tate smiled and laughed lightly. He raised the child and shrugged.
“You want to?”
“Are you sure?” I took a tentative step forward.
