Kade
The celebration had barely settled into laughter before my entire world flipped upside down. One minute I was standing in the middle of that lawn with my wife wrapped safely beneath my arm, still trying to process the fact that I was about to become the father of a son and a daughter.
The next, I felt Ysis’ fingers tighten around my sleeve with a grip so firm it stole my attention away from everything else happening around us.
The smile that had been stretched across my face disappeared the second I looked at her.
Everything in her expression told me something had changed before our baby shower went to shit, sending her into an early labor.
“Everybody move!” I barked, scooping Ysis into my arms before she had the chance to argue.
“Marcus, get the trucks around! Cassian, clear the driveway! Somebody call the damn hospital!”
“I don’t want the hospital,” Ysis managed through another contraction, gripping the front of my jacket hard enough to wrinkle it.
“Babe, this ain’t the time—”
“Kade.” She looked directly into my eyes.
“I don’t...want...the hospital.”
I stared at her in disbelief. “Baby, your water just broke.”
“I know.”
“We need doctors.”
“We already planned this.”
Another contraction hit before she could finish.
“I want...to go home.”
Everything inside me screamed to ignore her.
Every protective instinct I possessed wanted to point the truck toward the nearest hospital and let somebody else handle the rest. Every instinct as her husband demanded that I choose the place where I knew she would have every resource available if something went wrong.
But then I remembered the dozens of conversations we’d had over the last several months, the birthing classes we’d attended together, the late nights spent researching every option available, and the promise I’d made while rubbing cocoa butter across her stomach one evening.
Whatever makes you feel safest...that’s what we’ll do.
Home.
She’d chosen home because hospitals reminded her of loss.
Because every life-changing medical experience she’d endured had happened beneath fluorescent lights surrounded by strangers.
After growing up without stability, she’d wanted our children to enter a world where the very first thing they experienced was peace. Our peace.
“Home,” I repeated, looking toward Marcus.
“Change of plans.” Marcus didn’t question it.
“You heard the man!” he shouted toward the security detail moving into position. “Everybody roll!”
Within minutes we were flying through Memphis with an escort that would’ve made the President jealous. Security vehicles cleared intersections as Marcus coordinated everything from the front seat, barking instructions into his radio faster than I could keep up.
Behind us, another SUV carried my mother, Bree, Kayla, Lauren, Nia, Bella, and September as the rest of the family followed close behind. Horns echoed through the streets as intersections emptied ahead of us, but I barely registered any of it.
I never took my eyes off my wife. Every contraction looked stronger than the last, and every time she squeezed my hand, I wished there was some way to take even a fraction of the pain away from her.
Watching her fight through each wave while all I could do was sit beside her, felt like its own kind of torture.
“You okay?” I asked for what had to be the twentieth time. She laughed weakly through another contraction.
“If you ask me that one more time...”
“I’m trying to help.”
“You can help...” She winced before another breath escaped her. “...by getting us home.”
“I am. We're going as fast as we can.”
“Then hush.”
Despite everything, I couldn’t help the faint smile that tugged at my mouth. If she still had enough strength to check me in the middle of labor, then my TroubleMaker was still in there.
“Copy.” My mother called before we’d even made it halfway home.
“The is doula on her way.”
“How long?”
“Ten minutes.”
“We’ll beat her there.”
“You better.”
The second our convoy pulled through the gates, I carried Ysis straight through the front door without waiting for anyone to open it.
The house erupted into controlled chaos as people scattered in every direction, each one somehow knowing exactly what needed to be done.
It looked frantic from the outside, but beneath the urgency was purpose.
Everyone had prepared for this day. Nobody panicked. They simply moved.
Mama Sina stepped through the front door only seconds later. “Everybody calm down!” she ordered with the authority only a mother possessed. “She can feel y’all energy.”
Instantly the room quieted.
“Marcus, boil water.”
“Mama...”
“I know we probably won’t use it, but boil it anyway.”
“Got it.”
“Kayla, Lauren, Bree, upstairs. I need towels.”
“Nia, make sure the birthing room ready.”
“On it.”
The front door opened again, and the doula hurried inside carrying two large bags. She took one look at Ysis before setting them down, years of experience crossing her face.
“How far apart?”
“About four minutes,” Ysis answered through another contraction. The doula nodded once, immediately taking control.
“Perfect.” She looked around the room.
“Everybody out.”
Nobody moved. ”I said everybody out.”
Chairs scraped across the floor as they began filing into the hallway. Marcus. Cassian. Yayo. Majeston. One by one they stepped outside, each lingering just long enough to look back before leaving the room to us. My mother started toward the door before the doula stopped her.
“You stay.” She nodded.
Then the doula looked directly at me. “And you too.”
“I ain’t going nowhere.”
She smiled knowingly. “I was telling you to stay.”
Everybody else disappeared into the hallway, closing the bedroom door behind them until only four of us remained inside.
I looked over at Ysis lying in our bed, another contraction already beginning to build across her face, and for the first time since becoming a billionaire, I realized there wasn’t enough money on earth to fix what was about to happen.
No amount of influence, power, or success could carry her through this for me. All I could do was stand beside the woman I loved, hold her hand through every contraction, and keep the promise I’d made long before this day ever came while she brought our children into the world.
Mama and the doula moved through our bedroom with laying out supplies, checking temperatures, adjusting lighting, and speaking to one another in a language that sounded completely foreign to me.
Meanwhile, every instinct inside my body screamed that somebody should be taking my wife to a hospital instead of turning our bedroom into a delivery room.
“You sure about this?” I must’ve asked for the tenth time as another contraction rolled through her body. Ysis looked up at me with the same stubborn expression she’d worn since the moment her water broke.
“Kade...”
“But I’m just asking.”
“And I’m still saying no.”
“There ain’t no but,” Mama Sina interrupted, fluffing the pillows behind Ysis back. “This what she planned. This what y’all prepared for. Now either help your wife or sit over there and stop worrying everybody.”
“I ain’t worrying nobody.” Four sets of eyes lifted in my direction. The doula laughed first.
“Mr. Myles...”
“Hm?”
“You’ve asked me if she’s okay thirty-seven times since y’all walked through the front door.”
“I have not.” She smiled without missing a beat.
“Thirty-eight.”
Mama Sina covered her mouth, but it didn’t stop the laugh that slipped through anyway. Even Ysis looked over at me through the middle of another contraction and still managed to grin.
“I told you...”
“I am perfectly calm.”
“Mhm.”
“I am.”
Another contraction stole the rest of my argument before I could get it out. Ysis gripped my hand with surprising strength as the doula came closer, placing a hand against her shoulder.
“Breathe with me,” she coached gently.
Without thinking, I started breathing too.
“In...” I inhaled.
“Out...” I exhaled.
The doula looked over at me with the smallest smile.
“I was talking to Ysis.”
“Oh.”
Laughter rolled through the room so naturally it almost made us forget why we were there. Even Ysis laughed, though it quickly dissolved into another slow breath as the contraction tightened across her stomach.
“Kade...” she managed between breaths. “Baby...you ain’t gotta push.”
“I’m supporting.”
“You hyperventilating.”
Ma dukes folded her arms across her chest and looked me over the same way she always did whenever she thought I was up to something.
“You getting lightheaded?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“I...” I blinked twice before swallowing. “...maybe a little.”
“Kade...” she breathed, grabbing another pillow before another contraction hit. “...if you hit that floor before I do, I’m signing divorce papers before the birth certificate.”
My mama lost it. “Girl!” she laughed.
The doula doubled over, wiping tears from her eyes.
“See? Ain’t nobody taking my side.”
“Because you supposed to be catching babies...not passing out with ‘em.”
The doula pointed toward the chair tucked into the corner. “Go sit down before I end up delivering you too.”
“I don’t need—”
The room shifted just enough beneath my feet to make me grab the footboard before I embarrassed myself.
“I know you fuckin' lying.” Mama threw her head back laughing. Ysis had to stop herself halfway through the next contraction, grabbing my hand again.
“Oh my God. This man finna pass out before I do.”
“Im not passing out.”
“You gray.”
“I’m Black.”
“You ashy.”
The room dissolved into another round of laughter, and I couldn’t even be mad because hearing her laugh reminded me she was still okay.
For a few precious seconds she wasn’t just a woman in labor.
She was my TroubleMaker, finding a reason to clown me in the middle of bringing our children into the world.
“I don’t see what’s funny,” I muttered.
“The fact that you done negotiated billion-dollar contracts, but two little babies got you ready to meet Jesus.”
“It ain’t the babies.”