249 Days #2
Her husband, David, fluffed pillows behind her.
Ada held their tiny newborn while Ekele whined to be picked up.
Chichi was on the ground with Zoe’s older daughter, playing with dolls.
Tiny sat in a chair, looking nauseated, with her legs splayed out and her belly more swollen than ever.
Marcus and Jason stood in the corner, sipping hospital coffee and discussing the promising start of the Dodgers’ season.
Rhea had not realized it until this moment, but she had been avoiding all of them.
Living a blissful, Dannyful, child-free existence with no desire to see her friends.
She did not want to be suffocated by their domesticity while she was trying to carve a new path for herself.
She felt a sinking in her stomach, like she was trapped, like no matter how many cappuccinos she drank or Paris trips she went on, she would always return to the maternity ward to be confronted with everything she did not have.
No one spotted her lurking in the doorway, and she had the urge to stealthily back up, run to the elevator, and call Danny to come rescue her.
Instead, Rhea bravely entered the room. When she closed the door behind her, everyone looked up.
She was greeted with hellos and hugs. Chichi demanded a joke.
Rhea had not thought to bring Chichi a new joke, so she recycled “What did one volcano say to the other?…I lava you.”
Chichi looked thoroughly disappointed and said, “But I already heard that one.”
“Tell Ahree ‘Thank you for the joke,’ ” Marcus said.
Chichi decided not to and went back to playing with her dolls. Zoe’s mom was filming on her iPhone while Zoe’s dad loudly told her what to film.
“You’re not getting the baby,” he said.
“Enough! I’m getting the girls on the ground,” she snapped.
Zoe’s sister was hovering over Ada’s shoulder; every move she made screamed, It’s my turn to hold the baby!
, but she kept her mouth shut. Rhea did not know the other people milling around.
One of them was a recognizable actress, and Rhea assumed it was the woman Zoe always referred to as her “favorite client.” Rhea also assumed Zoe called her this in front of her other clients.
Rhea approached Zoe and showed her the onesie. Zoe squealed with laughter and held it up for everyone to see, claiming it was going to be the very next thing she would put on the brand-new body.
David said, “My God, Rhea, I’m doing everything I can to prevent our children from becoming actors, and you’re working against me.”
“Hey, if the onesie fits…,” Rhea said, which earned laughter from the group.
Zoe asked Rhea if she wanted to hold the baby. Rhea watched Zoe’s sister’s face visibly twitch, but Zoe was not sensitive enough to catch it.
“Oh, that’s okay, I’m sure other people are waiting to hold her…,” Rhea said, looking directly at Zoe’s sister.
“Ada, give the baby to Rhea,” Zoe demanded.
And that is how, against her will, Rhea found herself holding a newborn: breathing in her musty sweetness, taking in the folds of her eyes, the impossible delicacy of her fingernails. A rush of old feelings, which she had been forcefully shoving out of her perception, overwhelmed her.
She imagined this was what an alcoholic might feel, sitting at a bar, inhaling the comforting essence of booze, cradling a frothy Guinness but not allowed to take a sip.
She felt a strong desire to run out of the hospital with the baby and keep running until they reached a foreign land where kidnappers and their victims could live together in peace.
She closed her eyes and relished the weight of new life in her arms. And suddenly she knew why she had not yet had sex with Danny.
There would be no turning back after they consummated their relationship.
She would be too attached to ever let him go.
The other side of the bridge would be forever closed.
As much as she wanted to believe she had erased motherhood from her vision board, it was still there, just hiding under construction paper. She felt her grip on the baby tighten.
“She’s so beautiful,” Rhea whispered.
“She looks exactly like David,” Zoe’s sister said.
Apparently, the fact that she had not yet been given a chance to hold the baby made Zoe’s sister angry, and she lashed out by saying out loud what everyone else was thinking. The baby’s face was indeed identical to her father’s very masculine face.
“All babies look like their dad when they’re first born,” Zoe said defensively. “That’s how the dad knows the baby is his, but they grow out of it. It’s called evolution.”
“Well, then, Sophia is very evolved,” Zoe’s sister said.
“Aw, you named her Sophia.” Rhea was trying to change the subject before the sisters threw fists. “I love that name. Hello, Sophia. Welcome to the world.”
Sophia’s crusty eyes briefly opened, took in all the complicated family dynamics around her, then closed again so she could process what she had just gotten herself into.
Rhea was three weeks sober and knew she should resist all the self-sabotaging urges coursing through her, but she ignored logic, leaned over, and kissed the baby’s velvet head.
This cracked her open; she was officially off the wagon.
How could a baby be this delicious? She wanted to grind Sophia into powder and snort her through a rolled-up dollar bill.
“Rhea, give her to my mom,” Zoe demanded.
But Rhea could not hear Zoe. Her eyes were locked on the baby.
How could she give up all this deliciousness for some guy she barely knew?
“Rhea?”
“Huh?” Rhea said, looking up from her trance.
“Give her to my mom.”
Zoe’s sister gave a furtive glance at Zoe’s IV, as if she might just yank it out.
“Oh…okay.” Rhea reluctantly released the baby to Zoe’s mother. “She really is such a…precious baby,” Rhea said softly.
But no one heard her, and that did not matter since she was talking only to herself.
—
In the backseat of an Uber, Rhea received a text from Danny: How’s the baby? Does she like you?
Rhea smiled, then sighed. She hated how much she adored this man.
Rhea: God I hope so. She’s v cool
Danny: Are you still there?
Rhea: In an Uber