Epilogue
My phone screen is filled with the round face of the most beautiful woman in the world, Teaira. She’s smiling and stuffing her face with her newest obsession, cookies and cream flavored popcorn.
“Where are you? Where’s the phone?” I ask.
“On this huge belly your baby has stretched to maximum capacity. It’s propped up against this bowl of delicious popcorn.”
“Don’t eat too much,” I warn.
“I can’t. The police is here and she’ll snitch,” she says and rolls her eyes.
“Bitch, I’m not the police!” I hear Rebel yell in the background. “I’ll throw the whole bowl in the garbage.”
Because Teaira is in her final month, two weeks from her due date, she doesn’t attend any away games. She still insists on attending home games but these away games are not an option. She stopped flying before preseason. So, when I’m away playing, either Rebel, her mom, or Quay stays with her.
“I don’t even have to worry about that because you won’t deprive your godchild. Now, can you leave the room? I need to talk some freaky shit to my man before his game. He likes that,” she teases.
“Why you say that shit to her?”
“’Cause I wanted some privacy,” she says, smiling. “You ready for tonight?”
“Always.”
“What you giving me tonight?” she asks, starting our pregame routine.
“Seven assists.”
“Seven? Nah, Daddy. We want eight.”
“If that’s what my babies want, I’ll do eight.”
“I’m not gon’ even ask about turnovers. Expectations have already been set. Zero, right?”
“Bet. Zero, all day.”
“That’s my man. Do you thang tonight; I’ll be yelling loud enough for you to hear me in Chicago. One last thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Stay low. Keep them hands active to deflect and contest. And make sure you are using short, choppy steps to stay in front of your enemy.”
I can’t hold in my laughter because where did she hear this shit? Teaira is my biggest cheerleader but she isn’t an expert of the game. Her key phrases are “box out” and “D up.” This shit she’s saying is not in her vocab.
“Who told you that?” I question, still laughing.
“What? I’m learning,” she says. “I told you I’m an onion. I got layers.”
“Beautiful layers,” I say. My teammate Jabari motions that Coach is ready for our pregame speech. “I gotta go ball, baby.”
“Ball out and win. I’ll be waiting for you right here. We love you.”
“I love y’all too.”
I end the call then join everybody for Coach’s speech.
When he finishes, I check my laces, say a quick prayer, then head out with the team to warm up.
This shit never gets old. Every time I walk onto a court in this uniform, surrounded by my fellow Royals, I get hyped as hell.
I zone in, focus, and get ready to ball the fuck out and leave it all on the court.
The buzzer sounds, warmups are over. It’s game on. Jabari and Chicago’s Manski take center court. The referee tosses the ball up and Jabari takes it, tipping it to Grant.
Let’s fucking go!
Grant drives the ball past half court. We scramble to our spots. Grant looks to Meyer and he sets the fucking screen. Grant drives toward the basket then passes the ball to me. I catch that shit, quickly square the fuck up, and take the shot. Nothing but net.
The buzzer sounds. What the fuck?
Coach rushes over to me. “Teaira is in labor. We jus—”
I’m racing off the court before he finishes talking. My baby is having our baby. As soon as I’m in the locker room, I call Tearia’s cell. After a few rings, Rebel answers.
“They told you?” she rushes out.
While gathering my shit, I answer, “Yeah. Where are you?”
“At Highland. As soon as she got off the phone with you her stomach was hurting. She thought it was the popcorn at first but it got worse. She didn’t want to believe it was contractions but it was.
We called Dr. Blackwell and she told her to come in.
Hold on, this is her now,” she says and I end the call.
I call back on FaceTime and she holds the phone up so I can see.
“Nah. Give Teaira the phone.”
“It’s Tyriq,” Rebel says and the next face on the screen is Teaira.
She’s in pain. Her entire face is tight but for some reason she’s trying to smile. She’s failing miserably. “Baby, I’m here and I’m on my way,” I assure her.
“Sssss. Ugh,” she exhales. “No. You have a game.” She inhales and exhales deep then has the nerve to say, “The baby isn’t coming. We have another two weeks.”
“I don’t think so, Teaira,” I hear our doctor say. “Your contractions are coming about every twelve minutes. You don’t have another two weeks.”
“I’m about to get on a plane. How long do I have?”
“I wish I could give you an answer. Some women can be in labor for hours,” she says.
“Ugh! I can’t do this for hours,” Tearia groans.
“Come on, baby. You got this. I’m on my way.”
“Let’s see how much you’ve dilated,” the doctor says and the phone moves and Rebel’s face is back on the screen.
“Can you really get here?” she whispers. “I think her stubborn ass is trying to hold the baby until you can.”
“I’m getting there. I’m about to get a car and a plane somehow. Let me make some calls. I’ll hit you right back.
As soon as I end the call with her, I order a ride then hit Mick. That nigga has connections and can make shit shake. He answers on the first ring.
“Jase McCormick.”
“Man, I need a solid. Teaira’s in labor. I’m ’bout to head to the airport now but I need a plane, straight flight, that leaves in an hour. I’m going to look but if you cou—”
“I got you. I’ll put my people on it. Give me fifteen.”
I rush out of the arena, and five minutes later, I’m in my ride.
I’m searching every commercial airline I can as he drives.
Luckily, Mick hits me back in twelve instead of fifteen and he’s arranged a flight on a private airline, BillionAir.
After telling the driver my new pickup location, I hit Rebel back on FaceTime.
“What did the doctor say?” I ask as soon as she answers.
“She’s only three centimeters right now. The contractions are still around ten to twelve minutes apart. She’s hanging in there. My girl is a trooper. I just called Miss Diane and your mom. They are both on the way. What about you?”
“Headed to the airport now. I’ll be there in three hours. I ’preciate you being there.”
“Riq! Where else would I be?” she snaps. “Here, she wants to talk to you.”
Teaira’s face appears and she’s crying. My chest gets tight as hell. I can’t get back to Diamond Falls fast enough.
“Are you coming?”
“Yes, baby. I’m in the car now. The plane is waiting on me. I need you to stop crying though.”
She inhales and exhales again. “Ooooooh. Another one. Mm. This hurts. Ooh.”
“They can give you something for the pain.”
“Noooo. I don’t want it. I can handle it,” she says. She has been adamant that she doesn’t want drugs.
“Okay. Just keep breathing through them,” I tell her and she nods.
“You just get here. I’ll be okay when you do.”
“I’m coming.”
I stay on the phone with her until takeoff.
Once we are in the air, I connect to the jet’s private wi-fi and call back on FaceTime audio.
During the flight, I mostly talk to her to keep her calm but I also speak to my mom, her mom, and even the doctor.
Right before I land, her contractions are every two minutes and she’s dilated nine centimeters. Our baby is coming and coming fast.
“If you can get me there in fifteen minutes, I’d really appreciate it.”
“You got it. We all heard the news,” he says. He must have been watching the game.
When I make it to Highland in thirteen minutes, I tip the brother three stacks on the app and rush out of the car. He’s yelling something after me but I don’t hear him. I’m trying to get to my babies. I make it to the fifth floor and find her private suite, walking in just in time.
Teaira is laying back and a tiny little caramel body with a head full of jet-black hair rests on her chest. The looks on my mom’s, Miss Diane’s, and Rebel’s faces are all the same, in awe.
“We have a girl,” Teaira cries as I lean in and kiss her lips. “She’s beautiful,” she whispers.
“Just like her momma.”
“You want to hold her, Daddy?” the nurse asks as she steps closer.
“Can I?”
“Of course,” she says with a slight laugh. “Momma, let me clean her up.”
When the nurse lifts her tiny body, I see her little round face and my damn heart skips a beat. She’s absolutely gorgeous; the prettiest baby I’ve ever seen. Her little eyes open for a split second and her brownish-gray eyes meet mine.
I’m your daddy.
As they clean her up, I lean down and wipe Teaira’s wet hair from her forehead before kissing it. Then I kiss her tears from her cheeks.
“I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” she mumbles.
“Thank you, baby.”
Tenderly, I kiss her lips again before standing back up. The nurse is back with our little baby girl. Very carefully, she places my little angel in my arms then positions her head on my forearm.
“Sit down,” Teaira utters. “You’re too high. I can’t see my baby.”
I look back and there’s a chair. I try to kick it with my feet but I’m not trying to hurt my baby.
Thankfully, the nurse sees my dilemma and pushes the chair closer to the bed.
When I ease down, Teaira turns her head then reaches her arm out.
Her hand touches my arm. I carefully move our princess to my other arm then wrap my free one around Teaira and smile.
I have everything I want and need right here in my arms.
THEIR BEAUTIFUL ENDING