Epilogue
Bailey
Twenty-seven weeks later
“Bailey, are you sure you’re okay?” Pearlie asked me for the one hundredth time since I arrived earlier.
I wasn’t. I’d spent the night in a fitful sleep for two reasons.
The first was that I couldn’t find a comfortable position.
The baby was apparently huge and taking up every millimeter of space in my womb.
The second reason was the cramps in my back.
Every time I thought I was about to drift into the REM portion of sleep, my back wanted to act crazy.
Bright tried to convince me to stay home, but I refused.
I didn’t see the point in sitting at home all day bored out of my mind, when I could be at work getting things done.
It was already early March. We were barely a month out from the spring festival and Stronghart Manor Bed they were also pretty to look at.
Pearlie had gotten Brewer’s recipe and made them taste exactly the way I liked them.
Fawna wrinkled her pert nose. “It’s nine in the morning. Who eats mashed potatoes for breakfast?”
“Pregnant women,” Pearlie told her. “Come out to the kitchen, Bailey, and let me feed you.”
I followed her, and it was wasn’t too much longer before I was enjoying the meal Pearlie made for me.
I was resting my head on the countertop of the kitchen island, fighting my way through what I was starting to accept was a contraction when I heard a familiar voice.
“Bailey Boo,” my baby sister, Church, crooned. “Are you okay? Your mother called me, talking about she had a feeling that somebody needed to check on you. Here I am and you’re practically laying on the countertop.” She shook her head. “Mother’s intuition.”
“Why didn’t she come?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“She’s at your house with Bright getting everything set up. It seems like everybody has a feeling that this baby is coming soon.”
I was tired of pretending like I wasn’t in pain. “Okay. Let’s go. I’ve been hurting since last night. The pain is only getting worse and coming more quickly. Let me text the midwife.”
At the house, Bright met me at Church’s SUV and the two of them helped me into the house.
Even through the pain and distraction, I noticed that the living room of Bright’s home was set up just the way I’d asked him to do it.
Even though it wasn’t even noon, the blackout curtains I’d had him install were drawn shut.
Candles were lit and string lights were hung, giving off a soft aura.
The sound of a rainstorm coupled with the soft sounds of the familiar R&B slow jams that Alisha had raised us on floated from hidden speakers.
Tina Marie crooned soothingly about “Portuguese Love.”
“You okay?” Bright questioned, staring directly into my eyes. “You ready for me to fill up the tub, or do you want to spend some time on the birthing ball?”
This man was so attentive to me. He made me feel so seen and heard that I wanted to cry. I’d never had that before in life. I was thankful. “I want to sit on the birthing ball while somebody fills up the tub. But first I want to get out of these clothes.”
My mom wanted to help me change, but Bright wasn’t willing to let me out of his sight. After he helped me change out of my clothes and into a sports bra and swim skirt, I tried to find comfort using the birthing ball. The birthing ball didn’t give me much relief, so Bright helped me into the tub.
“You can do this,” he encouraged me as he massaged my lower back.
I rocked and hummed, trying to concentrate on everything except the intense pain.
Bright and I had opted against finding out the sex of the baby.
He probably wanted to know, but I knew myself.
I knew if the baby was a boy, like Hart, there was no way I wouldn’t have spent the entire pregnancy believing that this baby would suffer the same fate as Hart.
It was better for my anxiety that I not know, and Bright went along with that. We both had our suspicions though.
By the time the midwife arrived and got set up, I was ten centimeters dilated and fully effaced.
With her help, Bright’s encouragement, and my mom’s soft cheering, I managed to push the baby out in a little over an hour.
The loud cries coming from the baby finally caused my nervous system to relax and let my heart settle into the notion that I was a mother to a very much alive baby.
Once both the baby and I were cleaned up, we were moved to our bedroom.
I opened the fluffy, soft robe I was wearing so Bright could place our child on my chest and I could do skin-to-skin.
It was my dream to have the opportunity to be skin-to-skin with a warm, breathing baby ever since I delivered Hart.
I wrapped my arms around the baby as Bright dropped to his knees beside the bed.
His head rested on my stomach, right below where the baby rested on my chest. Both of us were consumed by tears.
“When we finally got ahold of ourselves,” Alisha spoke. “What’s his name, Bailey Boo? What’s my grandson’s name?”
“Brigham Kinglsey Strong,” I whispered, looking at my son with reverence. “He’s the first surviving male Kingsley.”
Alisha nodded as tears flooded her eyes. “You kept the Bs. Beverly’s gonna be so happy.”
“It’s a family tradition,” Bright joked.
“Brigham, Brighton, and Bailey,” my mother said through tears. “I love it!”
Later that day, all of the extended family visited.
After we’d convinced them to give us three days alone as just a little family unit.
After the midwife had done everything she needed to do.
After my mom, sisters, and brothers-in-law had put Bright’s home back together, as if nothing had ever happened.
The three of us lay together in the bed.
Brigham had conked out after his first attempt at nursing. He was fast asleep on Bright’s hard chest.
“For so long, I put the burden on myself to break the Kingsley family generational curse about having babies outta wedlock. In the end, it was Collins who actually broke it. I guess that’s what they mean when they say, tell God your plans and watch Him laugh.
” I sighed. “I was so stressed. Now that I don’t have to feel like I’m the only one who can save my family’s good name, I would be willing to try marriage again.
I feel like I would know I was going into it for the right reasons.
” I glanced at the man lying next to me. “I hope you ask me one day.”
Bright looked down at Brigham. “Your mother is finally ready to stop playin’. She’s been makin’ a trick outta me since day one.”
“Shut up,” I told him, watching him slip out of bed, still holding Brigham tightly.
He stepped into the walk-in closet. Less than a minute later, he came back out with Brigham and a black velvet box in his hand. I watched in silence as he approached the bed.
“I’ve had this for a minute, but I had no intentions of rushing you into being my wife.
I was willing to take you any way that you would give yourself to me, Bailey.
I’ve been praying to Big G about it, and He told me to be patient.
I’m thankful as hell that you’re finally ready to give yourself to me under the covenant of marriage.
” He dropped to one knee with our son still cradled lovingly in the crook of his arm.
“Bailey Kingsley, would you please run this race called life with me, right by my side as my wife? Will you marry me?”
I grinned the biggest grin. “I will.”
The End