Mister Diamond

by Chance Carter

  “Uh huh,” seemed to be the only thing Casey could muster.

  “Not to mention,” I added. “Once you move in with me, you’d have a much shorter commute to the office.”

  Casey sat up to face me. “Are you serious?” she asked. “About the job, I mean.”

  “One hundred percent,” I said. “I know this position isn’t exactly where you want to end up, but I’ve got this all figured out. You could sit in on some marketing meetings, and maybe eventually make your way over to the marketing team. The sky’s the limit, baby!”

  “Definitely didn’t see this one coming,” Casey said softy. Slowly, her eyes brightened and her smile widened. “But it sounds absolutely amazing, Alexander. I’d love to. After the baby comes, of course.”

  “Of course.” I placed her hand in mine and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I don’t want you to feel pressured. I know this has been a whirlwind of a few months. If this isn’t what you want, I completely understand.”

  “It’s exactly what I want,” Casey said. She leaned in and placed a soft kiss on my lips. “A new job for a new chapter in my life.”

  Chapter 25

  Casey

  “There’s the heartbeat,” Dr. Ellis said, moving the ultrasound probe around my belly. The cold gel was annoying, to say the least, but I was too excited about seeing my baby to care. Alexander held my hand as we saw our baby on the screen for the first time as an engaged couple.

  “Wow,” Alexander said. I could see his eyes getting watery as he tried his best to remain composed.

  Dr. Ellis waited a moment before continuing. “Your baby is looking just perfect. Everything is right as it should be.” He paused. “I know you were concerned after that fainting spell of yours, but I promise that the baby looks completely healthy.”

  “Thank you,” I said. I could see the gratitude in Alexander’s eyes, as well.

  “Would you like to know the baby’s sex?” the doctor asked.

  Alexander and I looked at one another. It wasn’t something we’d discussed, but I always figured we’d know ahead of time. Once Alexander gave me a go-ahead nod, I shook my head at the doctor. “Yes,” I said, my voice a soft whisper.

  “Congratulations,” the doctor said. Alexander squeezed my hand in anticipation. “You’re going to be having a baby girl!”

  I completely lost it. Tears covered my eyes and cheeks as I searched for any response to say aloud. I figured my tears and screeches said it all. I had been hoping for a baby girl, one who I could raise as well as my mother had raised me. I wanted a baby girl who I could take to dance class, or art class, or karate class, or whatever she wanted. I wanted a baby girl whose hair I could braid and whose dates I could give advice on. My life was becoming one dream come true after another.

  My gaze turned to Alexander to see his reaction. “A baby girl,” I whispered to him, partly because I wanted to make it feel more real, and partly to gauge his reaction because I knew he’d secretly been hoping for a boy.

  “A beautiful baby girl,” Alexander said. I knew everything was going to be alright.

  The walk from the parking lot on 6th Street to the clinic seemed a million miles long. This was the moment I’d been anticipating—and dreading—since Alexander had asked me to come work for him at his company. I looked down at my stomach, which protruded past my feet and was evident in my black dress. This was the first time I was stepping foot in the clinic with my baby bump visible, and I was absolutely terrified.

  The thought of leaving the life I’d become so accustomed to over the past several years was one that I had mixed feelings about. I was excited to have a new job, new fiancé, and new baby. At the same time, change was scary. I was good at my job at the clinic, and I’d gotten used to all the regular patients. I really liked my co-workers and bosses and hoped they wouldn’t be too upset with me. Most of all, I hoped they didn’t ask too many questions. There was a lingering worry in my mind that they would find out how Alexander and I had met—and conceived—and that there would be some sort of repercussion. However, since I was leaving, and we’d done nothing illegal, I reminded myself over and over that there was nothing they could do to me.

  The bells on the front door rang as I opened it. Through the door that separated the waiting room from the back area, I could see Dr. Leonard sitting in the break room, eating breakfast.

  “Good morning, Casey,” he called.

  “Good morning,” I said. I walked into the break room and tried to ignore the crumbs from Dr. Leonard’s breakfast sandwich that covered the table. “Is Dr. Rodriguez coming in today?”

  “He’s at that conference in Savannah. Remember?”

  I felt foolish for forgetting about the conference I’d heard so much about. It wasn’t ideal to have this conversation with only one of the doctors here, but I knew it was now or never. I’d already spent the entire car ride giving myself a pep talk. Besides, Dr. Leonard was the doctor I was closest to, anyway, as he was the one who had initially taken a chance on me. “That’s right,” I said. “It must’ve slipped my mind.”

  “Casey, is everything alright?” Dr. Leonard asked. “It’s not like you to be so forgetful.”

  “There’s something I want to talk to you about,” I said. I joined him at the table and sat in silence, waiting for Dr. Leonard to speak.

  He wiped his mouth with a napkin and cleared his throat. “I’m all ears.”

  “I’m pregnant,” I blurted. I let the words hang there in the air.

  “Well, that’s wonderful!” Dr. Leonard exclaimed. I could tell from the smile on his face that he meant it. “How far along are you?” I took off my oversized jacket and removed my scarf to reveal my bump, which was more than just a tad noticeable. “Oh my goodness! Six months? Seven?”

  “Seven,” I said.

  “Congratulations. I suppose you’ve found an OB/GYN by now?”

  “I’m actually seeing a doctor who’s a friend of my fiancé’s.” Ok, so that was a lie, but I knew that Drs. Leonard and Rodriguez would have insisted on caring for me themselves, despite the fact that my pregnancy didn’t really fall under the umbrella of fertility clinic cases. The truth was, I hadn’t wanted to tell the doctors here about my pregnancy too early on. More than that, I didn’t want these doctors I’d worked beside day after day for years getting a straight shot of my vagina. It just felt too weird. “Dr. Ellis. Are you familiar with him?”

  Dr. Leonard chuckled. “Familiar with him? He worked with me here before Dr. Rodriguez came on board about fifteen years back. Fantastic doctor. You’re in good hands.”

  I felt guilty taking in all this knowledge from Dr. Leonard when I was about to deliver some news I was sure he’d take hard. “Thank you,” I said, my voice softer than before. “There’s something else.”

  “What is it, dear?” For a moment, I looked at Dr. Leonard more as a father or grandfather figure than a boss. He was so concerned for my well-being, and I felt horrible to leave him without a daytime admin assistant. I told myself that at least I was giving him a month’s notice.

  “I have to resign from this position,” I said. I tried to read Dr. Leonard’s facial expressions, but he was a poker player. He knew better than to show his hand. “I’m so grateful for the opportunity you’ve given me here, and it was a really difficult decision to make. I just…” My voice trailed off as I failed to remember the rest of my rehearsed speech.

  Dr. Leonard shook his head. “No need to be sorry, Casey,” he said. “We love having you here, but I think, deep down, we all knew this was temporary for you. You’re destined for greater things than sitting behind the desk here.”

  “That’s so kind of you to say,” I said, wanting not to hold back for once in this conversation. “It really has been great working here, and I’m more than happy to help you find my replacement, or train them, or whatever you need to make the transition easier.”

  “I appreciate that. You just focus on keeping that baby of yours healthy, and I’ll let you know if
I need anything else from you,” Dr. Leonard said. The five-person office was too small to have any designated human resources coordinator, so I drew up my own paperwork and let Dr. Leonard know when my last day would be. I promised to make a guidebook to my job at the front desk to make training my replacement easier, telling him that my workload differed greatly from the evening admin assistant’s, and he seemed to be surprisingly grateful.

  Seeing how gracefully Dr. Leonard had taken my resignation made leaving that much more difficult. This had been my first real job. I was getting married, and I was having a baby, and I was leaving my first job in the real world. It was starting to hit me that I was growing up.

  I went through my regular daily motions, but for the first time without some sort of clothing covering my baby bump. I was surprised how differently people treated me, and how my own perspective changed with my due date creeping closer. Even the snooty women who usually brushed me off were kinder, asking me about my baby. The only question I had trouble answering, which I was asked twice, was what I was naming the baby. I hadn’t really given it much thought. I had a few names in the back of my mind, but I wanted to wait until I actually saw the baby before making any final decisions. I’d known far too many women in my life who said they’d wished they waited before naming their children.

  There was a patient at the clinic a few years back who had been trying for nearly a decade to get pregnant. Her miracle child finally came, and the patient gave her daughter the name she had been set on for years. Evelyn. Not only was the name completely outdated by the time she had her baby, but, from the pictures she sent to the doctors, she didn’t look remotely like an Evelyn. I wanted to avoid the Evelyn curse, so, while I’d read some baby name books to get ideas, I didn’t want to get too attached to any name yet.

  Shortly after my lunch break, a patient came in with her husband to meet with Dr. Leonard about in vitro fertilization. She’d been into the clinic three or four times before, but the child in her arms caught me off guard. I hadn’t known her to have any children. After all, that’s why they were here. She walked up to the counter with the child, no more than eighteen months or so, and tried to balance him while she signed in. “Hi, sweetie,” I said in my baby voice. “What’s your name?”

  “This is Vincent,” the woman said, smiling. It was clear that she could tell I was wondering where this mystery child had come from. “We’re fostering him for the time being. He’s been with us for almost four months now.”

  “That’s wonderful of you,” I said. I genuinely meant it, but I also couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to Vincent if the in vitro process worked out for the family. Success with fertility doctors had been the source of two of my foster home departures. The longest I’d ever lived at a foster home was thirteen months. Things had been going great, and they’d even drafted up the adoption paperwork, but then the wife suddenly became pregnant. They decided they didn’t need an older kid like me when they could have a baby of their own. I knew I shouldn’t get involved, but I had already given my notice, so I didn’t have much to lose. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure,” the woman said. She moved the fidgety toddler from one arm to the other.

  “What’s your plan with Vincent if you do get pregnant?” I asked.

  The woman didn’t look upset with the question, but, rather, confused. “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t mean to overstep,” I started. “It’s just that I was in foster care for a good part of my childhood, and I had a few foster parents that kicked me to the curb once they found out they were expecting. I just don’t want any child to experience the hurt that I felt.” I hoped I’d said my piece gently enough that I hadn’t offended anyone.

  “Ah,” the woman said. “Well, we have no intention of trading Vincent in for a newer model. He’s part of our family now.” I breathed a sigh of relief. “As a matter of fact, we’re looking into the process of adopting him.”

  I apologized profusely for rushing to judgment, but the woman actually thanked me for taking the time to ask questions instead of making assumptions. We had a surprisingly interesting conversation about the realities of foster care. She seemed genuinely thankful for my insight as someone who had been where Vincent was, and I was open with her about the ups and downs of the foster care system.

  When it was time for them to go back and see the doctor, I said, “This really is such a wonderful thing you’re doing for Vincent. I admire you both so much for taking him into your home, and I wish you the best of luck with any other future children.”

  I stood up to shake the woman’s hand, and she took notice of my bump for the first time. “You too,” she said with a smile.

  Despite the positivity put forth toward me throughout the day, something was bothering me. Now that I wasn’t hiding my pregnancy, I was more aware than ever of the cruel irony of working at the clinic. I felt guilty. These women had tried for years and years, spending thousands of dollars to have a child of their own, and I’d gotten pregnant on the first try. I knew it was something beyond my control, but it still made me feel as though I was selfish for some reason. When I got home from work, I expressed my thoughts to Alexander. All he said was, “God must’ve wanted us to be together.”

  Chapter 26

  Alexander

  It had been two weeks since the idea had first popped into my head, but I’d been majorly procrastinating. I couldn’t put it off any longer. Casey and I were engaged, and, with the baby on the way, that meant the wedding could be any day now. It seemed to be implied at my parents’ house that we’d have a longer engagement, but there was something inside me that told me Casey wanted to get married sooner. I knew it was only a matter of time before she came to me and asked if we could get married before the baby came. In fact, part of me hoped she would. I wanted to be the one to bring up the subject, but I knew it wasn’t my call to make. I wouldn’t be the one walking into my special day with an extra thirty-pound bump in front of me. It wasn’t fair of me to ask Casey to sacrifice the day she had dreamed of just so we could be married before our baby was born. Nonetheless, in case she happened to ask, I wanted to be ready with my vows at any moment. In fact, I wanted to be ready with more than that.

  Rolling my chair closer to my desk, I tried to find the words to start. How could I sum up my feelings for Casey on a single piece of paper? I wanted something special for her on our wedding day, and I knew a letter was the perfect way to go. She’d mentioned a few times throughout our relationship that one of the worst parts of foster care was never getting much mail, since she never really had a permanent address. Sure, we’d decided on the car ride back from Tampa that, whenever we did decide to marry, we would recite vows we wrote ourselves, but I wanted something more personal for Casey. I wanted to share with her the commitments and passions I didn’t want to share in front of our family and friends. I placed the tip of the ballpoint pen against the paper and hoped it would find its own way.

  Dearest Casey,

  You’re reading this because our special day has finally come. Should I say finally—or is “already” more suitable? It’s been a whirlwind, that’s for sure. A year ago, I couldn’t imagine this life with you. Now, I can’t imagine this life without you. I know we’ll be going in front of our loved ones in a bit and reading our nice, put-together vows to one another, but I want to share some private vows with you, as well.

  I vow to put our marriage first. I know I can be a bit of a workaholic, or a gym rat, or a camping recluse, but you come first. We come first. I want you to always know that and never be afraid to tell me if you feel like that isn’t the case.

  I vow to be the best father to our daughter that I possibly can. I’ve heard this whole parenting thing is hard, but I’m going to work my hardest to figure it out. I’m going to be there for every milestone and ballet recital and loose tooth and college tour.

  I vow to be patient with you. I know a lot of the families you lived with didn’t provide you the
patience you needed when you were adjusting, but you don’t have to worry about that with me. I know that these next few months will be challenging for both of us, but I will be as patient and understanding as I can.

  If I write out every vow I want to make to you, you’ll be reading this until the baby’s born. For now, I leave you with this: I vow to never stop appreciating you. I vow to never stop trying new things with you. I vow to visit your mother’s grave with you every Christmas and honor her memory in any way we can. I vow to not only be a good parent, but a good co-parent. I vow to try to like white chocolate macadamia cookies. I vow to make lasagna once a week. I vow to love you the best that I can.

  I’m thankful for all that you have brought into my life. You have taught me about honesty and openness and selflessness, and I wake up every day grateful that I’m starting another day with you. I’m thankful for the passion that we share and that you’re not afraid to be adventurous with me. You make me want to be a better person.

  I love you, and I can’t wait to say “I do!”.

  Yours forever,

  Alexander

  I lifted my pen, pleased with myself, and pushed the pieces of paper to the side. I wasn’t the strongest writer, but four years as the leader of a business had taught me to effectively put my thoughts onto paper. Telling Casey my hopes and dreams for our life together was the easy part, though. I’d spent the better part of the past few months with her. The next letter I wanted to write would be the tricky one. How could I sum the next eighteen years into a single note? I had to at least try.

  Dearest baby girl,

  You probably won’t be reading this letter until years from now, and hopefully we’re just as close as I hope we will be. You’re a beautiful, wonderful surprise, the love of our lives, even though we haven’t met you yet. I have high hopes for you, kid. I hope you have your mother’s big, brown eyes and innocent smile. I secretly hope you get my athletic ability, but, if not, your mother’s artistic talent would be nice, too. I pray that you have your mother’s resilience and your dad’s determination. Together, I know they will make an unbeatable pair.