by Ash, Nikki
Tristan
Four Months Later
It’s been nine months since the last time I sat in the hospital, in the labor and delivery unit. Granted, this time I’m in a hospital in Los Angeles, whereas last time I was in San Diego. This time, I’m waiting to find out if I’m the father, whereas last time I knew without a shadow of a doubt I wasn’t the dad. This time, I’m praying I’m not the father, whereas last time I was praying by some miracle I could’ve been the dad.
Last time, Bella gave birth. This time, Gina did. Bella held her baby and doted on her. Gina is refusing to hold her daughter and asking when she can get up and go outside to smoke a cigarette.
It’s been four months since I’ve seen Gina. Since she slipped out in the middle of the night and left with Ivan. Four months since Bella texted me Gina was partying it up back in San Diego. Four months since I begged Gina to come back, so I could try to protect the baby from her mother. I even tried to lie and say I would be with her. She called bullshit and refused to come back. So for the last four months I’ve hoped and prayed the baby is okay, having no clue about anything and feeling helpless as fuck.
When I got the call this morning after she had the baby, I thought I would be making a trip down to San Diego, only to learn she’s here in LA, still with the drug dealing loser.
“I’m pretty sure she’s yours,” Gina whispered into the phone.
“I’m on my way.”
“Hollywood Presbyterian.”
What the hell! She’s in Los Angeles.
Since I’ve arrived, the baby has been in the nursery. They’re running routine tests to make sure she’s healthy and doesn’t have any issues from the drugs Gina admitted to doing in the beginning of her pregnancy. They tested Gina’s blood when she was admitted, and they couldn’t find anything in her system. But that doesn’t mean she wasn’t doing shit that’s untraceable.
“Have you done any drugs?”
She rolls her eyes at me and looks away.
“Have you?” I ask louder.
“No, Tristan, I haven’t. I smoked cigarettes, but that’s it. Speaking of which, I need to go smoke one now.”
She stands and puts her sweatpants on she brought with her to the hospital. Without saying a word, she grabs her cell phone from the table and walks out the door.
After about ten minutes, the nurse wheels the baby in.
“Oh, where’s the mom?” Her eyes dart around the room looking for Gina who still hasn’t returned.
“She’s taking a cigarette break.”
The nurse, whose name tag reads Mila, scrunches up her nose but doesn’t comment. “Want to hold the baby?” Since there’s a chance I’m the father, I’ve been given a matching bracelet allowing me access to the maternity ward and to Gina’s baby.
“Umm…” I begin to tell her I would rather wait until I know for sure she’s mine, but before I can answer her, she places the tiny baby into my arms. And in that moment, I know what true love feels like. Don’t ask me how I know, but she’s mine. She doesn’t really look like me or Gina. She’s just a tiny little thing wrapped up like a tight little burrito. She has a pink, blue, and white striped beany on her head, and the only part of her you can see is her face.
Her nose is small and her eyes are fluttering open, trying to adjust to the lights in here. My heart begins to palpitate as she tries to zero in on me. She can’t, though. She’s only a day old. Her eyes can’t focus no matter how hard she tries. But mine can and I’m one hundred percent focused on this precious little girl.
“She won’t hold her.” I look up at the nurse. I completely forgot she was still in the room. “She won’t hold her or even acknowledge her. I just thought you should know.”
I nod slowly and look back down at this perfect little creature and wonder how in the world anybody could not want to hold her. Then it hits me, I didn’t want to hold her. But I also wasn’t sure if I’m the father. Gina knows damn well she’s the mother.
With one hand cradling the baby, I use the other hand to call my mom to bring her up to speed. After Gina ran into Bella one night at a local bar and told her she’s pregnant, I told my parents there’s a chance I might be the dad. However, I made it clear until I knew for sure, I didn’t want to discuss it. I spent the next several months in denial, refusing to buy anything or get anything ready for a baby. My mom tried to bring it up a few times, but I wasn’t having it. I didn’t want to be in the same position I was in nine months ago. Shit, I could still be in that position. What if she isn’t mine? But as I stare at her, something in me keeps insisting she is. I take a picture of her and send it to my mom and Mason. Then I call my mom.
“Tristan, is that who I think it is?”
“She had the baby.”
We talk for a good thirty minutes, and she tells me she’s going to fly out to help me if the baby’s mine. When the nurse comes back in along with the doctor, I tell my mom I have to call her back.
“We’re ready to do the paternity test,” the doctor says. “Is the mom here? She needs to sign off on it.” That’s when it dawns on me that Gina never came back up.
“She went outside to smoke a cigarette and hasn’t come back.”
The doctor calls security to check the cameras. Meanwhile, the nurse gives me a bottle to feed the fussy little girl in my arms. We wait to hear back from security and when we do, the next words he says change the course of my life. “She got into a car and left.” He shows me the stilled image of Gina getting into a beat-up Camaro and you can see it’s her drug dealer boyfriend, Ivan, driving. She must have looked at the baby and known it wasn’t his.
“What do I do?”
The doctor says he’ll call a police officer to come speak to me. When the officer arrives, he tells me the best option is to file for emergency custody. Everything following is a blur. They put a rush on the paternity test to prove I’m the dad. They come back positive. I’m the dad.
I call my parents, and my mom says she’s going to be here in a couple of days. She just needs to make sure the recreational center she runs is all sorted and under control since she plans to stay here until we get this all figured out. I call an attorney and he files for emergency custody. Within a few hours, it’s granted.
The attorney lets me know it’s for thirty days, during which time, he’ll file for full custody on my behalf. If Gina doesn’t respond within those thirty days, I’ll be granted full custody.
As the attorney is leaving, Mason shows up with a ton of crap in his hands.
“What’s all this?” I ask, grabbing some boxes from him.
“A car seat to bring your daughter home in. Figured you didn’t have one.” He shrugs. “The woman in the baby department said it’s rated the best.” He grins wide and I know she most likely informed him of that after he screwed her somewhere in the store.
“I also bought some clothes and bottles and stuff.” Then he surprises the hell out of me when he asks to hold her. “So, I take it this is her?” I hand her over to him and he sits down, cradling her head. “And what’s your name, little cutie?” He speaks to my daughter in a soft voice.
“I haven’t named her yet, but I need to. The attorney needs a legal name to add to the petition for custody.” On top of that, the data processor left the paperwork to fill out so I can bring her home tomorrow.
“What do you think I should name her?” I ask Mason. I have no clue about naming a little girl. To be completely honest, I think I’m still in shock over this entire situation. I woke up this morning planning to go to class, and instead found out I’m a dad.
Mason thinks for a moment before he says, “Shelly! No, wait. I slept with a Shelly once and she stalked me for months. How about Anastasia? Fuck! I slept with one of those too and she sucked in bed. I got it. You should name her Trina.”
“And where did you come up with that name?” I ask, scared of what he’s going to say. The nurse walks in, but she’s standing behind him, and before I can warn him, he says, “She gave me the best goddam
n road head of my life.”
“Jesus, Mason! I’m not naming my daughter after one of your conquests. Think of a name of a woman you haven’t slept with.”
The nurse makes herself known, taking the baby’s temperature, cleaning up the bassinet area, and preparing a bottle for the baby to eat, but Mason ignores her, holding my daughter and trying to think of a name.
“Okay, let me think. Jessica… Melissa… Heather…” Mason continues to spit out name after name, shaking his head as he remembers he has had sexual relations with each and every one of them.
“Okay! I got it… no, wait never mind.” He shakes his head, a tinge of sadness marring his features.
“What?” I ask, exasperated. “Just tell me the name.”
“Renee.”
“And have you slept with her?”
“Fuck no! That was my birth mother’s middle name and I can most definitely assure you I didn’t sleep with her.” It’s the first time Mason has ever mentioned someone from his past.
“So why did you say no to naming her that?”
“Because it’s my birth mother’s middle name… You don’t want this sweet little girl being tainted by that name.” He leans over and gives my daughter a kiss on her forehead.
The nurse comes over and hands Mason the bottle, and he looks up at her for the first time. I notice once again her name tag reads Mila. She’s been here on and off since my daughter was born and she’s been an absolute godsend. I know a nurse’s job can’t be to help change diapers, make bottles, and clean up, but she’s done it all for me.
“Have you slept with a Mila?” I ask, and she rolls her eyes at me.
Mason runs his eyes up and down her body. “Not yet.”
The nurse snorts and throws her head back in mock laughter. “And you won’t, ever.”
“Perfect! I’ll name her Mila!”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Mason warns, continuing to eye-fuck the damn nurse. “I can promise you, one day she will most definitely be under me.”
The nurse’s eyes widen, her brows shooting up, and if Mason wasn’t holding the newborn, I can almost guarantee he would be a dead man. “And I can promise you, I will never be under him.” She emphasizes the word under. I cover my mouth and fake cough to hide my laughter because really, she has no idea she’s only making this more fun for Mason. And I must admit, in the last several years we’ve lived together, back in Vegas and now here, he usually gets whatever woman he wants.
“Just to be on the safe side,” I say, “do you have a middle name?”
“Yes, but I am telling you, your friend here”—she gives Mason a harsh glare—“is never going to sleep with me.”
“Who said anything about sleeping?” Mason scoffs, and Mila groans.
“You are safe naming your daughter Mila. Although, it might be awkward to name her after the woman who murdered your friend.” Her voice raises and her cheeks go pink, and I have to wonder if the tension she’s feeling is pissed off or sexual. They say there’s a thin line between love and hate…well in this case, it would be lust and hate.
“I understand where you’re coming from, but I’m just thinking it would be better to be on the safe side,” I admit.
Mason nods in agreement as he lifts my daughter up and gently pats her back to burp her.
“Fine! My middle name is Alexandria.”
I look to Mason and he says, “Nope! You’re good.”
“Great! Alexandria, it is,” I announce, happy my little girl has a name.
Mila shakes her head and takes my daughter from Mason. Once she’s placed her in the bassinet, she says, “I’m afraid to ask if you’re giving her a middle name.”
Fuck! “You know what, I think Alexandria is long enough to cover both.”
Mason agrees and Mila hands me the paperwork. “Now that you have her name, fill this out, so you can bring her home.”
I grab the pen and write down under name: Alexandria Scott
I look toward my now sleeping daughter, and vow, in this moment, to be the best goddamned father and mother this little girl could ever ask for.
Chapter Eight
Tristan
Present Day
I wake up and scrub my eyes, then look to the clock: 7:15 a.m. Lexi should be awake by now. It’s possible she’s so exhausted from her birthday weekend with our family and friends she’s still sleeping, but it would be a first. My parents are still in town at a hotel downtown. My mom wanted to stay a few extra days to spend time with us and Morgan—my younger sister, who is going to school here and living in an apartment near campus. Emma is going to school in Las Vegas, so she flew home last night not wanting to miss any of her classes. She’s majoring in education, and planning to become a math teacher.
Throwing my sheets off me, I take a quick piss before I head out to search for my five-year-old daughter. Holy shit! I can’t believe I have a five-year-old. Where the hell did the time go?
I walk down the hallway of our condo, passing Mason’s closed door and head straight to Lexi’s room. Her room is empty and so is her bathroom. I hear voices coming from the living room or maybe the kitchen. Maybe Mason is up or my parents came over?
“Are you here for my uncle Mason?” I hear Lexi ask.
“I am,” a woman replies.
“Did you go fishing with him last night?”
I turn the corner to see Lexi and a barely dressed woman sitting at the kitchen table. Lexi is coloring a picture and the woman is drinking a cup of coffee. Damn it, Mason! I rush back to Mason’s room and swing the door open without knocking.
“Get up! Your damn fish is in our kitchen with Lexi.”
He looks around groggily, then bolts out of his bed, throwing his sweats on and hauling ass out the door toward the kitchen. I follow behind him, listening to Lexi and the woman still conversing.
“Uncle Mason says he likes to go fishing a lot.” I can hear the disgust in Lexi’s voice.
“I’ve never been fishing,” Mason’s fish says.
“Me neither. I think fishing is gross! It’s good that he catches them and then lets them go back into the water. I don’t want a fishy to die.”
I stifle my laugh as Mason groans. One day when Lexi was younger, Mason used the term fish when referring to one of his many conquests. Looks like it’s about to bite him in the ass.
“Lexi girl,” Mason says, trying to end the conversation. “What are you drawing here?”
“A fish!” Lexi lifts the paper up and sure enough, there is a huge multicolored fish covering most of her paper, complete with a dark blue ocean and a bright yellow sun. “Did you catch a bunch of fish last night when you went fishing?”
“Umm…” Mason looks from Lexi to his one-night stand. “No, I didn’t.”
“Good! Fishing is so gross.” Lexi scrunches her nose up in disgust. Once, at the beach she saw a real fish firsthand. One touch of its slimy body and Lexi wanted nothing to do with fish or fishing.
“Britney, I need to get going. Why don’t you go back to my room and get your stuff?” He nods toward the hallway and the woman glares at him. I’m almost positive she’s caught on to the fake fishing scenario. She huffs, and taking my coffee mug with her, goes to his room.
“Mason, kitchen,” I demand.
Once we’re far enough away so Lexi can’t hear, I say, “Things are going to have to change. The whole fishing term was fine when Lexi was little, but now she’s old enough to ask questions. If you want to get your own place, I—”
Mason cuts me off. “No, don’t even say that shit. You’re right. I’m sorry. I thought she had left. I didn’t realize she was still hanging around. From now on, if Lexi is home, I’ll go back to their place or make sure they’re gone the same night. I would never want her waking up to different women here.”
“Thanks, man. But you know if you ever want to get your own place, I would understand. I imagine Lexi and I are cramping your style.”
“Tristan, we’ve been living
together for the last six years. While my game of catch and release is strong, no woman is coming before our friendship or Lexi. I’ll fish elsewhere.” He winks jokingly.
“You are such a pig!” We both turn to see Britney—I think that’s her name—with her hands on her hips. “Really? Catch and release?”
Before Mason can respond, Lexi pops her head in the kitchen. “Yeah! You catch the fish and then throw it back in the water so the poor fishy doesn’t die!”
Britney huffs, slamming the coffee mug down, and storms out the front door, slamming it behind her. Lexi looks completely confused. “Uncle Mason, I don’t think she likes fishing, just like me.” She shakes her head back and forth and then goes back to the table to continue her drawing.
“No more calling women fish,” I say, pointing at him so he knows I’m serious. “And no more women around Lexi.”
“You got it,” Mason agrees. He might be the biggest manwhore I know, but for the last six years—since even before Lexi was born—he has proven to be a great friend to me, and since the day she was born, he has taken his role as godfather to Lexi seriously. Mason never talks about his past but something tells me his commitment issues go deep.
And really, who am I to judge? I do plenty of fishing myself, just in other women’s oceans. There’s no way I’m bringing anyone back here for my daughter to see. The last thing I need is Lexi getting attached to a woman who won’t be around for the long haul.
We both go back into the dining room to find Lexi coloring. “Here you go, Uncle Mason!” She hands him a colored picture and he laughs as he turns the paper around so I can see. It’s a picture of a bright pink pig.
Mason takes off for the gym, and Lexi and I meet my parents for breakfast. We spend the day at their hotel lounging by the pool while Lexi and Morgan swim. Mason ends up joining us for dinner at the restaurant in the hotel.
“When do you guys leave?” Mason asks, shoving a bite of steak into his mouth.
“Tuesday afternoon,” my mom answers him. “We wanted a couple extra days with our kids and granddaughter without everyone here.” She smiles warmly at Lexi and gives her a kiss on her forehead. Lexi pays her no attention, completely caught up in whatever picture she’s coloring.
