Be My Baby

by Airicka Phoenix

  Willa ceased walking and turned to her, face bunched against the sun and the hurt shining in her eyes.

  “Is your shop more important than me?”

  Calla squinted at her, trying to determine if that was a joke, or a serious question. Willa stared back, unblinking.

  “That’s low.” She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. Show me. But slow down. Pregnant women aren’t meant for running.”

  Arm securely fastened around hers, Willa propelled her through town.

  “What are you showing me at town hall?” she wondered as she was dragged around the side.

  “Hurry up!” Willa panted.

  Bemused more than ever, Calla let herself be led through the side doors, down a short hallway, and into a small, sparsely furnished room. It was a space mostly used as a waiting area and only held a settee and a single mirror hanging on the wall. At that moment, the soft velvet divan was mounted high with an assortment of things.

  Willa shut the door and quickly relinquished her death grip on Calla. She hurried to the sofa.

  “Here!” She tossed Calla a garment bag. “Put that on.”

  Calla stared at the beautiful, strapless white gown in shimmering satin with wary suspicion.

  “What is this?”

  Willa was already stripping out of her jeans and sweater. “Why are you questioning everything?”

  “Because you kidnapped me, brought me here, and now you’re making me change my clothes.”

  Yanking open the second dress bag, Willa shook out a light, lacy dress in dark burgundy. She stepped hastily into it.

  “It’s a surprise for Mom,” she said, swishing her hips and hopping until the dress was securely in place around her body. “And you’re going to ruin it if you don’t shut up and get dressed.”

  “How come I never heard of this surprise?”

  “Because I forgot to tell you.”

  “Willa!”

  “What?” the other girl shouted back, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as she struggled to do up the zipper.

  “How could you forget?”

  Panting, grunting and groaning, Willa succeeded in drawing the dress together. “Because I have had a million things on my mind. Now can you please…?”

  Calla relented. She pulled out of her clothes and drew on the dress. The soft, silky material glided down the length of her frame, swooped gracefully over the bulge of her belly and floated seamlessly inches from the ground, giving her feet just enough room for movement without tripping. Gems glittered along the stiff bodice straining over her swollen breasts and rained down the front in a shimmering waterfall. It was beautiful, and a little too fancy for someone else’s surprise.

  “It’s not her anniversary.”

  “No,” was all Willa gave as she hastily scooped up Calla’s hair and twisted it.

  “Not her birthday.”

  “Nope.”

  A shiny clip was slipped into place to contain the messy, yet fancy knot.

  “Not Uncle Sloan’s birthday.”

  “Will you please stop guessing?” Willa pleaded as she hurriedly swept strands back from her own temple and shoved a glittery pin into place to contain it.

  “Why are we wearing these dresses?”

  “Because!” Willa’s voice came out high pitched and shrill.

  Thankfully, one of them was saved when there was a knock and Calla’s dad poked his head inside.

  “You guys ready?”

  “No!” Willa blurted and darted to the remaining two bags.

  She yanked out a pair of low, white, satin pumps and hurried back to Calla. She set them down in front of her and bolted back to grab a pair of black pumps for herself.

  “What’s going on?” Calla demanded of her father, even as she eased her feet into the shoes.

  “I told her it was a surprise for Mom,” Willa panted, face flushed, eyes sparking with frustrated tears. “She’s being difficult!”

  Her father chuckled. “You both look beautiful.”

  That wasn’t an answer to her question, but Willa was too busy slapping makeup on Calla’s face for her to say as much. A heavy diamond pendent in ice blue was draped around her throat and her favorite gold hoops were pushed into her earlobes.

  “Hey, where did you get those?”

  “Stole them from your apartment.” Willa answered without an ounce of shame. “Okay, I think we’re ready.”

  Her father offered them both his arm and led them out of the room. Willa was still out of breath and she refused to look at Calla, but Calla barely noticed.

  “How come you remembered to steal my earrings, but not to tell me there was a surprise?”

  “Uncle Cole!” Willa wailed.

  Calla’s dad stopped and turned to Willa. He took her sulky and blotchy face between his hands and kissed her lightly on the cheek.

  “Go on, sweetheart. I’ll handle this.”

  Visibly relieved, Willa sprinted away without a backwards glance.

  Alone, her dad turned to her, took her face in his hands the way he’d done a million times before and said, “You need to give your sister a break.”

  That wasn’t an answer either.

  “What’s going on?” she demanded warily. “I know it’s not Mom’s birthday, or her—”

  “Whatever it is, stop badgering. No one likes a badgerer.”

  “That’s not a real word.”

  He smiled and drew away. Her hand was taken once more and slipped into the crook of his elbow. He started them forward.

  “You know I love you, right?”

  “Is that the right question to ask me right now when you refuse to answer … yes,” she grumbled when he shot her a sidelong glance.

  “And that I will always love you, no matter what?”

  Calla tipped her head towards him. “Yes.”

  Her dad nodded, still staring straight ahead. “Did you know the first time I held you, I cried? You were this tiny, perfect little thing all bundled in blankets and I wanted you so much.”

  “Dad?”

  He pulled in a breath that lifted his shoulders. “I hate that you’ve grown up. I feel like I didn’t get any time with you at all.”

  “What are you talking about?” she whispered, trying and failing to keep her voice teasing. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me forever.”

  He paused and turned to capture the back of her head and press a hard kiss to her brow.

  “Much longer, baby.” His voice broke. “You will always be that bundle of blankets to me. You will always be that little girl who would run towards me, arms open wide, waiting for me to catch her, and I will always catch you.”

  Emotions lodged in her throat, bringing tears to her eyes. “Daddy, what…?”

  He sniffled and drew back. A tear slid down his cheek and the sight of it struck her square in the chest. She had never seen her father cry, not once.

  “What’s going on?”

  His answer was to pull her into his arms, so tight, she couldn’t breathe. “I love you, Cal. And, God, I am so proud of you.”

  She was crying by the time he finally pulled back. He cradled her face, wiped her tears and gave her a big smile.

  “Don’t cry, or your mother will kill me.”

  She did her best to stop, but the odd tear kept slipping past her defenses to trail down her cheeks. She got most of it under control by the time they reached the wide set of doors and the mess of red and white rose petals leading further into the dimly lit room. White streamers and balloons were pinned along the frame. They swayed under some invisible force. Her dad led her beneath them and she got her first view of the banquet hall.

  The long, rectangular room was empty save for a small cluster of chairs placed in two neat groups on either side of the rose petal trail. An archway of red roses adorned the front on a two tier platform and that was where the petals stopped, at the very base, right beneath where Reverend Peters stood next to a gorgeous man in a mouthwateringly fit suit in s
leek black with a crisp, white dress shirt. The satin trim complimented the nearly bloomed rose set against a broad chest. Stunning gray eyes met hers and all the air in the room seemed to vanish.

  “I never thought anyone was ever good enough for you,” her father murmured. “But I approve of the one you’ve chosen. He’s a good man and he’ll love you almost as much as I do.”

  Calla forced herself to look away from Jared and peered at her dad. “Dad…?”

  Willa darted forward and shoved a bouquet of bright, fully bloomed red roses into Calla’s hands.

  She grinned at her. “Surprise!”

  With another brilliant smile, Willa whirled on her heels to face the small cluster of people rising to their feet and turning in their direction. As though on cue, music erupted through the room, a low serenade of violins and piano. Calla recognized the wedding march, but her feet had rooted themselves to the floor.

  Willa started forward, leading their little group up the rose petal road. Calla’s father waited five steps before propelling Calla forward. Faces of all the people she loved filled her line of vision. There weren’t many, but her entire world was in that room, in that moment, watching her with smiles. Her mother, beaming and crying simultaneously, stepped out when they reached the top and took Calla’s face in her hands. She kissed her gently on the cheek.

  “Love you,” she whispered before stepping back so Uncle Sloan could pull her into his arms.

  “I may not be your father, but I will always love you.”

  Calla shook her head. “You have always been my father, too.”

  His arms tightened around her before releasing her. He touched her face lovingly, before moving to stand next to his wife.

  She turned to her dad and got a smile that shone in the unnatural brightness of his eyes. He took her hand and led her up the platform to stand before Jared. Behind him, Toby and Damon grinned at her and she grinned back before focusing on the man before her.

  “What is this?”

  “I’m going to marry you,” he stated simply.

  “But we’re already married.”

  “Doesn’t count. I want us to remember it. I want it to be something we can tell our kids about one day.”

  Calla looked over the room at the time and effort that it must have taken to organize every detail. It wasn’t grand, or lavish. But it was perfect in its simplicity, in the thoughtfulness of it and the motivation behind it. It could have been them in jeans and sandals and it would have been equally memorable so long as her family was there.

  “You did all of this?”

  “No.” Jared chuckled. “Your mom, Beth, and Willa helped. They actually did most of it.”

  “He’s lying,” Willa muttered from behind her. “We followed what he wanted. He was very specific … and bossy.”

  A chuckle rippled through the crowd.

  Jared grinned sheepishly. “I just wanted it to be perfect. I know every girl has an idea of how they want their wedding and this might not be it at all for you, but I figured we could have something bigger in a few years. For now, I wanted to put my ring on your hand in front of everyone we love and—”

  She kissed him, putting all her heart and soul into it.

  “It’s perfect,” she whispered. “I love it.” She kissed him again, harder. “I love you.”

  “Now, hold on, you two,” Reverend Peters put his wrinkled hands up. “That’s not until later.”

  Laughing sheepishly, Calla pulled back.

  “What will it be?” Jared asked her. “Will you marry me … again?”

  Beaming, Calla nodded. “Yes.”

  Epilogue ~ Willa

  TWO MONTHS LATER…

  There was nothing safe, reassuring, or welcoming about a hospital. It didn’t matter how many smiling, cartoon animals they stamped to the walls, or how bright and cheery they painted the floors, hospitals were depressing and fraught with nervous energy. Willa hated them, hated being in them, hated waiting, not knowing what would happen next.

  Her gaze flicked to the doors that had swallowed her sister up over thirteen hours earlier. Her mom and Jared were with her, but Willa still didn’t like not being there, which had, ironically, been her choice. She hadn’t been sure she could handle watching her sister suffer in pain and being unable to do a damn thing about it. Oddly enough, not being there was somehow infinitely worse.

  Behind her on the waiting room floor, cuddled against her back, Damon was idly flipping through his phone. His free arm was hooked securely around her middle, the hand spanning the length of her abdomen. His long legs bracketed either side of her hips. One was propped up and he was using the knee as a place to rest his phone wielding hand, while the other stretched out alongside hers. Against her shoulder blade, his heart pattered calmly through the thin material of his top. His scent of motor oil, soap and tacos filled the space around her.

  “How are you so calm?” she wondered.

  “Because women have been giving birth since the dawn of time, even before hospitals were invented,” he mumbled. “And we’re not in the third world where medical attention is iffy.” He snickered at her appalled expression. “She’ll be fine.”

  “You don’t know that!”

  “I do.” He switched his phone off and stuffed it into his pocket. “Have you met Calla?”

  Her sister was tough, much tougher than Willa ever could be. But so many things could go wrong.

  “Stop worrying.”

  But worrying was what Willa did best.

  “I should have gone in,” she thought out loud. “Then I wouldn’t be here wondering if everything is all right.”

  Both his arms circled around her and she was cuddled comfortably in their embrace. His chin rested on her shoulder.

  “Jared’s with her,” he reminded her. “He won’t let anything happen to her, or the baby.”

  That was true. Her brother in law would move heaven and earth to keep her sister safe. That made Willa feel slightly better.

  “I’m going to be an aunt,” she said, getting excited as she always did at the thought. She paused and peered at him hesitantly. “Is it wrong that I secretly hope it’s a girl?”

  He shook his head. “Nope, I wish it too.”

  Willa blinked. “You do?”

  His mouth curved into a grin that made her pulse pick up. “Can you imagine a baby with his face?”

  “Damon!” She lightly elbowed him. “That’s horrible. He’s your best friend.”

  “Doesn’t mean he should pass his curse on to an unsuspecting baby.”

  She knew he was joking. Damon loved Jared. They’d been friends since preschool. She just didn’t understand why they had to be so mean to each other.

  “I think Jared’s very handsome,” she defended. “Between his pretty gray eyes and Calla’s beautiful hair, I think they’ll have a gorgeous baby.”

  Damon leaned into the wall and pulled her back against him. Both his hands folded neatly over her stomach.

  “You should get some rest,” he stated. “Who knows how much longer they’ll be.”

  Despite her resistance, Willa yawned into the back of her hand. “What about you?”

  “I’m not tired, but you go ahead.”

  He dragged his coat over her gently. She snuggled into it and him and closed her eyes.

  “Damon?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Do you want babies?”

  The organ beneath her shoulder blade gave a hard kick that popped her eyes open with a start.

  “Babies?”

  “Yeah.”

  He was quiet for a moment.

  “Yeah, I do.” His lips brushed her temple, warming the spot with his breath. “Do you?”

  A smile turned up her mouth. “Yes, I want two.” She tipped her head back on his shoulder to peer up at him. “Doesn’t matter what they are.”

  Damon said nothing, but his sharp, blue eyes raked over her face, leaving a hot flush in their wake. The scrutiny drove up the volume on
her own heart and it galloped a little faster.

  “Two sounds nice,” he murmured at last. “But boys.”

  The absolution in his tone made her chuckle. “Why?”

  “Because the girls would look like you and I would have to buy a shotgun.”

  Willa laughed. “A shotgun? Why would—”

  Jared appeared in the open doorway of the waiting room, flushed, beaming, and sweaty. His paper gown crinkled as he stopped to stare at the group waiting. Willa bolted out of Damon’s arms and scrambled to her feet just as her dad and Uncle Cole did the same. Damon stayed where he was, but the tension that ran through all of them had stiffened his shoulders.

  “It’s a boy!” Jared panted, beaming so wide Willa wondered if his face hurt.

  Willa squeaked and did a little hop on her feet. “Can I see him?”

  Nodding, Jared motioned them all to follow before bolting out of sight.

  Willa waited only a split second to wave at Damon to hurry up before running to catch up.

  The room was sparsely furnished with a bed, one end table, a roll table, and two plastic chairs. The blinds on the large window were thrown open wide to the murky, black twilight. But the harsh lights in the room were on, spilling over the sweaty, pink face of her sister and the tiny lump of blankets in her arms.

  Calla looked up when Jared barged in, followed closely by Willa and everyone else. Her smile was almost as wide as his was.

  “Hey!” Willa darted forward, straining to look into the blankets. “He’s here!”

  Calla laughed. “Yeah, it only took thirteen hours.”

  “But you did wonderful,” their mother said from the foot of the bed, beaming proudly.

  From Calla’s other side, Aunt Beth fiddled with the monitors and IV bags, making sure everything was just right before turning her gaze down on Calla and the baby.

  “Everything looks great. Do you need anything?”

  “Water?” Calla asked.

  Touching her shoulder, Beth left, but not before pausing to kiss her husband on her way out.

  “Congratulations, grandpa,” she teased.

  Uncle Cole grimaced sheepishly and laughed. “I don’t feel old enough for that.”

  “Can I hold him?” Willa pleaded, arms already outstretched.