“Why have we stopped?” she whispers.
“Traffic light, but we’re almost there.” I hold her hand tighter as the vehicle starts moving again.
“I-I’m scared, Caleb,” she stammers.
“I know you are, but remember I’ll be with you the entire time. I promise I’m not going to let anything happen to you or the baby.”
How can I tell her that and truly mean it? She’s not stupid. Henley is one of the smartest people I’ve ever known. So in her mind, she can justify my words any way she wants to, but deep down inside, she knows I have no control over the situation we are about to be in. She’s scared, which is completely understandable, but my girl doesn’t cry. Ever. If the circumstances were different and she hadn’t lost her sight, then she would meet this experience head on without fear or tears.
“We’re here,” I tell her as I pull into Women and Children’s Hospital. I park the car as close to the entrance as possible.
“Have the contractions let up some?”
She nods. Her hand slides over the door panel until she grasps the latch and pushes it open.
“Hold up a second and let me help you.” I rush to get out of the car, grab her bag from the backseat, shove the keys in my pocket, and close the door. By the time I sprint around the car, Henley is leaning against the passenger door with her head down and shoulders slumping.
“Why didn’t you wait for me? Can you walk, or do you need a wheelchair?”
“No, I’m good,” she says, pushing off the car and reaching for my hand.
I grab hold of her tightly and we wind through the sparsely lit parking lot, heading for the doors leading to the labor and delivery wing of the hospital.
Before we make it through the door, I feel the tension radiate through her. She stops in her trek and releases my hand.
“Fuck!” she booms, bending over and resting her hands on her knees.
I quickly assess the distance left to the door. After adjusting the strap of her bag on my left shoulder, I scoop her up and rush toward the entrance.
“What the hell are you doing?” she belts, wrapping her arms around my neck. “You scared the shit out of me. Remember you have to give me some kind of verbal warning before attacking,” she tells me. Her voice is calmer, so the pain must be better. At least for now.
“Sorry, babe. I can’t stand to see you in so much pain, so this is me rushing things along.”
Henley lost her vision to a fucking terrible genetic disorder—Retinitis Pigmentosa—a few years back. She fought it hard, but in the end, she ultimately had no control. She still works every day teaching school. She shops, cooks, and is going to be the best damn mother ever. Sure, we both worry about our son or daughter having this disorder, but she wanted a real family—something she never had. Of course, I had many reservations about expanding the family, but have learned through Henley that I can’t let fear rule my life.
The double doors slide open and I hurry inside the large lobby. It’s four in the morning, so the desk is unmanned. I breeze by it, still carrying my wife. Her head’s resting on my shoulder, and her body is loose and relaxed. Henley’s breathing is steady, and the tears have dried up. I manage to press the elevator button with the only free finger I have. Once the door opens, we step into the car. The ride up to the fourth floor seems to take longer than necessary. Tension again radiates over Henley’s body, and she pulls forward, away from my hold.
“Be careful with all that moving around. I don’t want to drop you,” I tell her, and she stills for a few seconds before pulling away again.
“Fuck you, Caleb. Do you think I’m enjoying this?”
“There’s my girl.” I chuckle, but she doesn’t find it funny.
“You’re laughing? You truly are a son of a bitch,” she barks as she attempts to slide away from me.
The elevator door opens, and we’re greeted by three nurses standing behind a large counter.
Before Henley has time to finish her bitch session directed at me, the middle-aged, dark-haired nurse walks from behind the counter toward us.
“Mrs. Bonelli, we were expecting you,” she says in a calm voice.
Yes, they were expecting us, because I did exactly as I’d been instructed to do—call the hospital before leaving home, so everything will be ready and the doctor can be notified. I texted Smitty, my boss at The Drunken Peacock, and let him know, because he will surely bust his ass to be here at some point. He loves my Henley like a daughter. He’s the reason I’m here in New Orleans, and more importantly, he’s the reason I met my wife. Henley and I both consider him a part of our family. I was also instructed not to call my Aunt Maria or Henley’s parents, because she said she wants one full day of just me and the baby before anyone from our extended family shows up.
The dark-haired nurse, who introduces herself as Mindy, brings a wheelchair around the counter and gently guides Henley until she’s sitting comfortably in the chair.
“Mr. Bonelli, I need you to sign some paperwork, and then you can go be with your wife,” a tall, thin nurse from behind the counter explains.
“Can’t this wait? I promised her she wouldn’t be alone,” I ask as Mindy slides Henley’s bag from my shoulder and heads down the hall with my terrified wife alone and in a wheelchair.
“It will only take a few minutes, and then you’ll be with your wife.” She places a clipboard in front of me with what looks like more than just a few minutes’ worth of paperwork to be signed.
“But you don’t understand.” I lean in and read the nurse’s nametag. “LeAnn, she can’t be alone.”
LeAnn walks from around the counter and gives me a pen. She squeezes my shoulder gently, before saying, “I understand how nervous the two of you are, but just sign these papers quickly and I’ll take you right to her.”
She’s right. No need to argue about something so trivial. I begin flipping through the paperwork and signing as quickly as possible, knowing once I’m done I’ll be back by Henley’s side.
Thirty-Three
Henley
Alone in the dark. The place I never want to be. Usually, Caleb’s around. And if he’s not, then I’m at school working. Keeping busy. And even when I’m at home, I don’t feel alone. But here, in this hospital, with all the strange voices and sounds, I’m terrified. And this is a feeling I don’t like, especially combined with the pain that is creeping back into my lower stomach.
The nurse, Mindy, helps me from the chair just as another contraction hits. I lose my footing and almost fall. Luckily, this Mindy person is quick and catches me as she eases my body back into the chair.
“I got you, hon.” Her voice is soft and sweet. Not exactly what the raging bitch inside me wants to hear. When the pain hits, I turn into a raging, screaming demon. I become confrontational and want to argue with someone. Anyone. But, I guess there is no need to piss off the people who have the medication to help with said pain.
“You okay, now? Let’s try this again,” she chimes.
I scoot to the edge of the chair, and Mindy grabs my forearms. I slowly stand, and immediately a surge of water escapes me. What the hell?
“Shit! I think my water just broke,” I tell the nurse.
“Yes, I believe you’re right.” She maneuvers me onto the bed. I stretch my arms out until my hands feel the softness of the sheets. It’s only then that I allow my body to gradually ease onto the mattress. Then Mindy’s gone; she’s moving things around, opening and closing what I assume to be cabinets, or maybe drawers. I fucking hate this. Where is Caleb? Tears form in my eyes, but I hold onto them. I’m not weak, but for the first time since I lost my sight, I’m scared—truly terrified. And it pisses me off, because it shows me how much I’ve come to depend on Caleb. If he ever left me, I’d be—
I shake my head, wishing that thought away.
“Henley, I’m about to help you undress and put on a gown. Then I’m going to hook you up to a monitor so we can listen to your baby’s heartbeat, okay?” Nurse Min
dy speaks slowly, clearly, and loudly, like she thinks I’m deaf.
I want to scream and tell her, “I can fucking hear you, bitch.” I’ve learned over the course of the last couple of years that people tend to associate me being blind with me being hard of hearing and stupid. I’m neither.
“Sure,” I tell her as she helps me undress. Once the gown is on and the monitor is secure, I feel better. The sound of my little one’s heart echoing through the room is all I need to hear. I’m no longer alone. He or she is here and has been the entire time. I smile at that thought.
The mattress dips slightly, so I’m alerted that someone is sitting next to me. Whoever it is smells of soap—hospital grade soap to be exact. It must be a nurse. Not Mindy, because she has more of a musky smell. Unfortunately, my sense of smell is incredible, because I use it as my eyes most of the time.
“Hi, Henley.” The voice is young and cheerful. “I’m Sierra, one of the nurses who will be taking care of you this morning. I wanted to let you know what I’m about to do, so it won’t frighten you.”
I nod slowly. Her voice is so soothing and calming, and it relaxes me.
“First, I’m going to start an IV to give you fluids and medications.” She gently takes my right hand in hers. Her skin is warm and comforting, just like her voice. She’s young, I can tell. She hasn’t had enough years to be tarnished by this cruel, old world.
“Okay, Sierra, thank you.” I smile before bringing my left hand to my face. I run my fingers along the arm of my glasses to be sure everything is secure. I talked to Dr. Walters early on during this pregnancy, and he assured me that no one would take my dark shades off during delivery. The thought of anyone seeing me without them causes tension to shoot up my spine, just in time for another fucking contraction.
“Shit!” I scream. Sierra immediately releases my hand, waiting for it to pass. Her presence is still near; she’s just no longer touching me.
Once it passes, she secures my hand in hers again. “Are you okay now?” she asks.
“For the moment,” I tell her.
She shifts her weight around on the mattress before I feel a slight sting on the top of my hand. The needle stick, I presume, but it doesn’t hurt. At least not like the pain I’ve been experiencing throughout the last couple of hours.
“IV is in,” Sierra tells me while lowering my hand onto the mattress. “Now, I’m going to check your cervix for dilation.”
I simply nod and relax, because I know the less stress I allow myself to feel, the better off the baby and I will be.
Now she’s between my legs with a gloved hand, poking and prodding until she’s happy with what she discovers. Once she’s gone from down there, I quickly pull my legs together and adjust them until they’re securely closed.
“Four centimeters,” Sierra confirms to someone—probably Mindy—who is typing the numbers into a computer, or so I assume, because I hear click after click after click across a keyboard.
The air shifts in the room, and a gush of a woodsy scent fills my nose. He’s here.
“Caleb.” I reach for him before he makes it to the bed.
“I’m here, baby. And I promise I won’t leave again. Everything okay?” he asks, running his fingers through my hair.
I lean into him and all is right in my world again.
Thirty-Four
Caleb
Getting the paperwork signed took longer than I expected. Now I’m here in the laboring room with Henley. She looks calm. Almost relaxed. I wonder if the nurse has given her medication through the IV to help her relax. I shake my head and try not to think about how much is involved with bringing a new life into the world. A new life that will be part me and part her. I’m really going to be a dad. This thought makes me grin.
I maneuver my body next to Henley’s as she scoots over to make room for me. She knows it’s me. She always knows when it’s me. It’s my smell, or at least that’s what she says. As soon as I’m seated, her body clenches and she makes a loud grunting noise. Fuck! I hate this shit.
“Just breathe, baby. Breathe,” I comfort her with my voice. She always tells me that my voice is what keeps her grounded.
Within a few minutes, she’s relaxed again.
“Mindy, right?” I ask the dark-haired nurse from earlier. She’s tapping away at the computer across the room.
“Yes, Mr. Bonelli. Everything okay over there?” She walks away from what she was doing and heads toward the bed.
I rise to a sitting position with my feet planted firmly on the floor, never releasing Henley’s arm. “Yes, everything is as good as can be expected, but I was wondering when Dr. Walters will be here.”
“Don’t you worry about Dr. Walters.” She hesitates for a second, looking down at her watch. “He should be here any time. I notified him as soon as I received your call earlier.”
I lean in toward Henley and kiss her softly on the cheek. “Did you hear that? The doctor is on his way. Everything’s going to be fine.” She shivers under my touch.
“No matter what I say today, remember that I love you and I’m so thankful to have you,” she whispers. A couple of tears roll down her face.
I wrap my arm around her and pull her into my body. “I love you too, baby.”
She relaxes again for a couple of minutes, and then another contraction hits. Her breathing is ragged, and she’s slinging profanities right and left. God, I love this woman.
Thirty-Five
Henley
After ten hours of excruciating labor, Dr. Walters lays this beautiful baby boy on my chest. Caleb’s breath is warm on my cheek as he leans in closer to get a good look at the new love of my life. I slowly trace my fingers over my son’s face as I memorize every curve and angle. His cry is music to my ears. I could lay here and listen to the sound of his sweet voice forever.
“You did it, Henley. He’s beautiful. Just like his mother,” Caleb whispers.
This moment between my husband, my son, and me seems so intimate. I wish everybody in the room would leave and give me this much-needed time with my boys.
“Does he look like a Benjamin?” I ask my husband. We decided on a couple names, but never made a final decision. Our plan was that our baby—whether male or female—would have a name of their own. To become the person he or she is destined to be. So, we chose not to name our future baby Bonelli after anyone, even though Caleb’s boss and my good friend, Smitty, felt that if the baby was a boy then we should name it Reginald after him, of course. Even as much as I love Smitty, it’s not happening.
“He definitely looks like Benjamin Tate Bonelli,” Caleb says.
The nurse takes Benjamin from me to give him a bath but says she will bring him back shortly. It takes everything I have in me to let him go. I want to scream that he’s mine and I can bathe him, feed him, and give him the love and care he needs, but I don’t, because the last thing the staff needs to think is that I’m a crazy blind lady. Because then they may not let me take Ben home.
“He’s beautiful. We made this amazingly beautiful kid, Henley. Thank you for giving me this life,” Caleb tells me. His lips are soft on my forehead. Tears fall from my eyes again. It must be hormones, because I have cried more in the last twelve hours than in my entire life.
I trace Caleb’s lips with my fingers before moving them across his cheek, over his eyes, down his nose, and around his chin. “He looks like you,” I say softly.
Caleb wipes my tears again and places another sweet kiss on my cheek.
“He’s beautiful, baby. The most beautiful little boy in the world. Thank you for making my life complete.”
I smile as his lips meet mine. The kiss is soft, sweet, and means more to me than any words he could ever say.
He quickly moves away from me as I sense Sierra’s presence.
“You have a beautiful baby boy, Mrs. Bonelli. He’s back from the nursery. Are you ready for him?” she asks.
I nod. “Yes.” I’ll always be ready for him. I grin as Sierra helps
to adjust me in the bed, so that I’m comfortable holding my son.
“How much did he weigh? I forgot to ask earlier.” I was so caught up in all my silly emotions I completely forgot to ask the doctor how much weight I’d been carrying around for the last few weeks.
“He weighs eight pounds and two ounces. Quite a big baby for your little body.” Sierra giggles, placing Ben in my arms. He immediately nuzzles into me. Even though he’s swaddled in a blanket, his warmth radiates through my gown to my skin. And his smell is one that I will never forget. I hold him near and place a kiss on his face. His breathing is a bit quick, but from what I’ve learned about babies, this is normal. Caleb wraps his arm around me as he sits on the edge of the bed.
This is my life and I welcome it. The one thing I was so afraid of for so many years feels so damn right. If it weren’t for Caleb’s persistence, I would still be wandering the streets of New Orleans without any direction. Without any hope. And without the love of this amazing man.
Acknowledgments
There are so many people to thank for being a part of this book writing journey. It would’ve been impossible to do alone.
Taylor Roth—Thank you for being the BEST PA ever!! Without you none of the important stuff would ever get done. Many—Many—thanks for designing graphics (teasers, FB Banners, etc.), making sign up forms that somehow become organized spreadsheets, BETA reading and telling me the TRUTH, promoting everything I write, hanging out with me and the BABES, listening to me talk about absolutely nothing for longer than you probably want to, and for organizing EVERYTHING. I’m sure I left some stuff out, but I hope you know how much I appreciate you!!
Kristi Falteisek—Thank you for being my friend and always listening to everything I have to say (which is a lot) and for being so patient and kind when I need it the most.
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