Rocker Series

by Gina Whitney

  Nothing.

  I heard a faint giggle. And in the meekest desperation, my head tried to follow the sound until our eyes met, entrapped in a sickening trance. My throat caught on a phantom snag and air ceased to flow. Medusa. The words never spoken aloud, but she grinned, enjoying my pain. I opened my mouth to speak, and she placed one long, thin, crooked finger to her lips. The snag pulled free, and my lungs filled again. Her smile spread wider, and her eyes glistened with pleasure.

  “Please…” I begged. Her smile faded into a thin sneer.

  Her head shook once and then she spoke. “You must cross. You have no place in this child’s life…no place in his life.” Her voice pitched angrily. He was the only one who treated me like I wasn’t broken—accepted me. And I was. So incredibly, irrevocably broken. But, I couldn’t find the words. All thoughts, all doubts, all confusion lost in the inescapable light beyond her.

  Her face now so close to mine, the smell of cigarette and alcohol clung thick to her skin. Her figure now drifting toward the light. “She’s the rainbow at the end of a storm, and the light at the end of a tunnel…but she’ll never be your anything.” The words were like a whip striking my soul. I tried to shut out the pain of this devil’s accusations, but I felt some truth to her words. But the thought of being apart from him caused the darkness to draw tighter around me. Her eyes glistened with malice, and mesmerized me to where I couldn’t look away. She closed her eyes and I closed mine. The pain too great. In the darkness once again, guided only by her words, all concept of time stopped. Unable to slow down or stop. I continued moving toward the transient light. I opened my eyes, gazing at my daughter’s silhouette with tears streaming down my face.

  “I’m sorry my angel.” The concrete weight of my words pulled a single crystalline tear from her own soulful eyes. And without hesitation, I leaned forward, fading into the light and from sight.

  I woke up to the sound of a heart monitor beeping steadily, and the sterile antiseptic scent of the hospital. My body felt heavy and frozen in both time and place. My ears searched for the lovely sound of the fetal monitor. Nothing. Panic started to set in, and someone began calling my name urgently. Who? There was no name attached, but the tone had a familiar authority to it. My body yearned to respond. However, the weight of my lids prevented that. Alarms sounded, and hushed tones turned into frenzied words as they poked. Pain… I felt pain. Bright white heat licked across my stomach, and then there was a warm burning sensation. Darkness was coming for me again. It didn’t matter, but this time I knew I was safe.

  A voice broke through, and the memory evaporated faster than the time that was steadily ticking by. Abel. My eyes remained firmly closed. In the back of my mind, remnants of memories swirled and lingered. A baby girl with blue tear-filled eyes. The breath raced to my lungs, faster with each passing moment, and in one final burst, several pictures ambushed me at once. Impossible. Green, brooding eyes shadowed with worry on the fringe of my world, but solid—and mine. Always there…always there. His words echoed in the stillness that, for a moment, seemed to fill my soul. His lashes brushed against my cheeks before my eyes fluttered open, and I stared up at him. My heart leapt, and a warm, stinging liquid came from nowhere and filled my eyes. His eyes went wide, his lips parted, and there was a mixture of clear relief and a half-dozen other emotions mirrored plainly on his expression. He reached down, kissing my lips, and I could feel the familiar maleness of him. His hands fumbling. He kissed each of my eyes, my cheeks, and then the hallow of my throat.

  Worn, unshaven, and undeniably handsome. He whispered, “Jesus, Beauty, you scared the fuck out of me.” He rested his head on my chest, and I fingered his messy hair softly, swallowing past the aching lump that strained against my throat, because right now, he needed me…she needed me.

  “Sorry.” My voice broke, the pain in his eyes still present. “I don’t remember anything that happened.” I shook my head. The panic began to slowly rise. “Where is she? Is she okay? That’s all I care about…” My heart shuttered. I pushed through the pain and events that led me to this bed, and focused on what really mattered. My baby girl…and the man in front of me.

  A wide, proud smile slowly pulled across his face. “She’s a perfect angel.”

  Angel. The name bubbled up through a haze of cruel words, shapes, and darkness that edged around the corners of my mind. “What did you call her?”

  “Angel, because she’s beautiful.” The love dripped out of him and the air changed around us.

  Dr. Mills walked into the room and to my side. A few resident students followed closely behind. “You gave us quite a scare young lady,” he said, putting the stethoscope into his ears. “Breathe and hold.” And I did. He listened closely, his eyes closing. “Again… One breath in and hold.”

  The nurse stepped around him, wearing a congenial smile. “I’m just going to untie your gown so the doctor can have a peek.” She untied the lower half and it fell open.

  He gently pulled the gauze off my incision and handed it to the nurse. “This needs to be changed a few times a day. Any additional redness, oozing, or sharp pains, you call right away. But the discharge nurse will go over that before you leave.”

  “Discharge?” Abel’s eyes narrowed into slits, and his arms crossed defensively. “Not a fucking chance in hell.”

  Dr. Mills quickly amended. “No. No. No. She’ll be staying with us and being monitored for a few more days. I’m just stressing the importance of keeping this area clean and dry. When she’s ready to go home, all this will be gone over again, and you’ll leave with instructions. A cesarean takes a good six weeks or longer to heal. The incision heals from the inside out. That takes time. So, you’ll need some help caring for your little one.”

  “She’ll have me, and I’ll hire a nurse if needed.” His voice held a protective edge.

  The doctor nodded, pleased by Abel’s response. “Good, the more support the better. First time mothers have a habit of over-doing it, and end up back in my office because they ripped a few staples or a fluid pocket developed,” he countered while blotting some residual blood with a clean piece of gauze.

  I tried to lean up on my forearms to see. The word staple made me cringe, and I didn’t want to sound vein. But what the fuck did I look like down there? My stomach was still swollen, and from this vantage point, I saw nothing but my aching breasts. However, thoughts of a long, jagged Frankenstein incision came to mind.

  “What about these?” I pointed to my swollen painful breasts. “They’re killing me, and hard as a rock.”

  He removed the last tie holding my dignity together, and my swollen breast fell out. “Did you bring a nursing bra?”

  I looked at Abel, who was equally confused.

  The doctor’s head tilted in question. “Are you planning to nurse, Gia?” he asked, and I shrugged. I hadn’t thought about it. “Your milk is coming in; that’s why they’re engorged.”

  “Does it matter if the baby’s bottle fed already?” Abel asked with clear concern that I may have missed my window to nurse her. I was still focused on my milk coming in and engorged breasts. Abel chuckled and returned his attention back to the doctor.

  “Not at all. The baby has to eat either way, right? If there’s an emergency with the mother…the child still needs sustenance.” Well, that made sense. However, I was sad that I missed watching Abel feeding our daughter. But thankful it was him instead of a stranger.

  I took a moment to give it some real thought. I wanted both, but I didn’t know if it were possible. “I’d like to try, but I want her daddy or family to be able to feed her, too.”

  Abel looked pleased with my response.

  “Absolutely. Nurse Williams will get you a nursing bra to use. And your baby nurse will explain how it all works.” The nurse left the room speedily, and the doctor continued his examination. I quickly covered myself in front of a room full of strangers.

  “When can I see my baby?” I asked, releasing the breath I was holding.
>
  The doctor’s eyes were sympathetic. “The baby can visit with you in the morning. In fact, Abel or the baby nurse can bring her to you. She’s still in the NICU until tomorrow. Purely as a precaution. And you, my dear, need to stay in bed until you’re cleared. If you do well tonight…I don’t see why we can’t get you up and sitting in the chair tomorrow. Let’s see what tomorrow brings,” he said, patting my hand in comfort. “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

  The room cleared out, and all that remained was Abel and me. He handed me his phone, and on the screen-saver was the first time I saw my daughter. “You took her picture…”

  “Of course I did. It didn’t feel right seeing her without you. So this was the next best thing,” he said, kissing my forehead as I studied the picture. With my forefinger and thumb, I widened the image. “She needs a name, though.”

  I nodded. Yes, she needed a name. However, the names we spoke about didn’t really seem fitting anymore. “She’s a perfect angel.” I gasped, swallowing the knot of emotion in my throat. I chewed on the name that so readily rolled of our tongues. “Does Angel sound like a stripper name?” I asked, as I seriously considered it as a possible name.

  His brows pulled together as he considered it. “I love it as a nickname or term of endearment, but as her actual name, I think it does sound stripper-ish.”

  I nodded in agreement. I didn’t want my daughter named after a stripper.

  “What about something Italian? She was conceived in Italy, and you are Italian.” He grabbed the pitcher of water and offered me a cup to drink.

  “I’d love that,” I gushed. “That’s a perfect idea.” I was almost pissed I didn’t think of it…almost.

  He rubbed his hands over his worn face, leaning over the tray-table. “I got it! What about Bella Mia?”

  “Translates to…” I didn’t want to come off as snotty, but I didn’t know a lick of Italian.

  “Well, my beauty in Italian is bellezza mia. That doesn’t work, but Bella Mia does. It’s all in the interpretation, and it fits her. It fits us.”

  Happiness and contentment replaced the pain and anxiety I’d felt. I said it out loud a few times…seeing how it sounded. And it fit perfectly. “I love it. We have a name…” I squealed, and winced in pain at the same time.

  The past already gone. The future was not yet here. However, in this present moment, we named our daughter and the symbolism behind it was a treasure beyond pretty words or sonnets.

  “I’d do anything to see that smile…” His voice sounded full of pride. It was that pride and adoration that glued all the fractured pieces of my damaged heart in place. He was thread woven into the fabric of my soul. He’s the sun in the rain. My relief in pain. The moon, stars, and universe. But at the end of the day…he’s the father to my daughter, and we are family.

  We both shared our love for each other to equal measure. As there is no one without the other. So, as the sun set and the room grew dim, he hopped onto the bed, drawing me close, and began to recount the good, bad, and the ugly events of the day.

  The following morning, Chance brought a fresh change of clothes and sat with Beauty while I showered. I didn’t want her alone for a moment. Her emotions were all over the place, and I was concerned enough to speak with the nurse privately. She was kind enough to explain in detail what some mothers can experience after delivery. My other concern was Gia’s bi-polar disorder and how all this distress would affect it.

  She began slowly, but academically… “The days after birth are a time of mercurial emotions—feelings change from one moment to the next, along with quickly fluctuating hormones and a rapidly shifting sense of identity,” she explained and I nodded for her to continue. “If the birth of the child wasn’t how the mother envisioned it, particularly if trauma was involved, the emotions are even more likely to swing from one extreme to the other. Ms. Mastro had a cesarean birth, and even though one was already scheduled and planned for, she went into labor early. Which happens all the time. But”—she lifted her index finger, shaking it—”what was unexpected was the level of trauma her body and psyche went through.”

  “Yes, we never expected anything like today. I never want to live through that again—ever.”

  “I don’t blame you. It was traumatizing for you, and the infant as well. So, you all suffered to some degree. But her body, and mind, are just catching up. She needs time and perspective to understand more deeply what she feels…whether it’s anger, disappointment, self-reflections, or tears. Keeping it pent up is no good for anyone.”

  I blew out a deep breath. “What can I do?”

  “What you’re doing…being supportive and loving her. It’s the best medicine in the world. I would let the doctor know your concerns. He’ll address them with you both. Also, there are herbal remedies that some people find helpful.” She handed me a sheet from a folder she held in her hands.

  I took it, folding it into a little square, and stuffed it into my pocket. I’d have Chance make sure we had her recommendations in the house.

  After taking a quick shower and dressing, I sat in the other seat across from Chance. I had some guilt about not informing the gang what was going on. However, my father stepped up and filled them in. There just wasn’t a moment I felt secure enough to leave either of my girls. My own emotions were all over the place. I was still trying to wrap my head around yesterday’s events. I left out some of the more troubling parts, as I didn’t want to add to Gia’s anxiety.

  Chance handed me the LA Times. “She made their page six,” he said proudly.

  I opened the paper, thumbing to page six. Born to Rock—Welcome Bella Mia Gunner, born to Abel Gunner (Lethal Abel) and his fiancée, Gia Mastro, July 6th, 2015. “You see the nightmare outside? You need a cattle-prod to get through.” He shook his head in disbelieve.

  “Security will work it out. No worries,” I said, blowing it off. Today was a new day. The media will always be rude and intrusive. I didn’t want to taint this day with ugliness and worry.

  I’d been up for a few hours watching her sleep peacefully. The nurse gave her a sedative to help her sleep, and as soon as I heard her deep sigh, I knew it was working. Finally, her body relaxed, her heart calmed down, and her eyes closed.

  Chance raised an eyebrow. “Okay, whatever you say. What about her? My poor thing…do you know how worried we were?” His face drained. “I’m going to be sick thinking about it.” He choked back a sob. “I promised I wouldn’t give you shit, but Christ, if that wasn’t the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced in my lifetime.”

  I nodded. What could I say? I agreed with him. It was the worst and best day of my life, but I was looking forward to moving past it. “Listen, I don’t want to mar Beauty’s experience today with all the drama of yesterday. I’m going to bring the baby in shortly.”

  He held up his hands defensively. “Understood. By the way…I snuck a peek with the boys and Cindy.” He beamed euphorically. “Woody schmoozed the head nurse. They held her up to the window. She’s the tiniest, most beautiful single thing I’ve ever seen.” His eyes shifted toward Gia. “Good morning.” He popped out of his chair and went immediately to Gia’s side.

  She managed a smile. However, her face appeared to be marred by pain. I buzzed the nurse and went to greet my love. “Morning, beautiful.” I kissed the top of her head. “I buzzed the nurse.”

  She nodded and mouthed thank you. Then turned back to Chance. I’m sure she needed to use the bathroom, and the nurse needed to care for her wound. “Where is she?” she asked. “You said in the morning. Well, it’s morning. Please, go get her…” She continued to plead. I was powerless to deny her anything, and just as eager for her to formally met Bella.

  “Yes, go get my Bella,” Chance added as he focused on Gia’s appearance.

  Gia’s head whipped around, her eyes narrowing.

  “I’ll work on fixing you up in the meantime. What a mess you are…” Chance teased and Gia rolled her eyes, growling at him. The familiar
interaction made me smile. She needed a distraction, and what better distraction than Chance.

  As I breached the doorway, I heard Gia’s first spirited crack and I had to laugh. “I don’t think I like the way you say Bella. You hold on to the L too long. Sounds like that creepy Aro from Twilight. Which would make my baby that twit Bella. Worst actress ever… If you can’t be normal, call her Mia,” she said, propping up on her elbows. I was amused by this exchange, but I had a little girl to bring back to her mom.

  Twenty minutes later, nurse Jill and I wheeled Bella Mia’s incubator to Gia’s room. She packed the drawer below with everything we would need for the day. A breast pump, diapers, formula, nipples, pacifiers, burp clothes, and a file folder of literature about parenting, babies, and dos and don’ts.

  “Here’s little Mia.” Chance clapped, but gave Gia a sneer as he pronounced the baby’s name.

  Gia’s smirk turned into a grinning smile. She looked more like herself. The nurse changed her dressings, gown, and helped wash her up while Chance primped her hair and added some touches of makeup and a blanket over her legs as she sat up in the red reclining chair in the corner. I wheeled Bella over, motioning for Chance to step aside. He was a blubbering mess, but I explained we needed this time as a family. Our friends and family would have time later this afternoon to visit. However, this was a private moment, I was unwilling to share with anyone other than Beauty.

  Jill asked to see Gia’s hospital bracelet. Our numbers and information matched the baby’s. Gia looked at me puzzled. “Security, baby.”

  “Sorry, it’s procedure,” she explained. I already received a thorough check yesterday. “I’m Jill, your baby nurse. I’ve had the pleasure of caring for your daughter.”